267. If you look at a bright star intently before retiring, you will dream of your sweetheart. Alabama. 268. Count nine stars for nine successive nights. (If a rainy or cloudy night intervene, the charm is broken, and the project m... Read more of Stars at Superstitions.caInformational Site Network Informational
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The Coral Sprigs






Mrs. Weiss, of St. Louis, was in New York in January, 1881, attending
a daughter, Mrs. C., who was about to have a child. She writes:--

"On Friday night (Jan. 21) I dreamed that my daughter's time came;
that owing to some cause not clearly defined, we failed to get word to
Mr. C., who was to bring the doctor; that we sent for the nurse, who
came; that as the hours passed and neither Mr. C. nor the doctor came
we both got frightened; that at last I heard Mr. C. on the stairs, and
cried to him: 'Oh, Chan, for heaven's sake get a doctor! Ada may be
confined at any moment'; that he rushed away, and I returned to the
bedside of my daughter, who was in agony of mind and body; that
suddenly I seemed to know what to do, . . . and that shortly after Mr.
C. came, bringing a tall young doctor, having brown eyes, dark hair,
ruddy brun complexion, grey trousers and grey vest, and wearing a
bright blue cravat, picked out with coral sprigs; the cravat attracted
my attention particularly. The young doctor pronounced Mrs. C.
properly attended to, and left."

Mrs. Weiss at breakfast told the dream to Mr. C. and her daughter;
none of them attached any importance to it. However, as a snowstorm
broke the telegraph wires on Saturday, the day after the dream, Mrs.
Weiss was uneasy. On Tuesday the state of Mrs. C. demanded a doctor.
Mrs. Weiss sent a telegram for Mr. C.; he came at last, went out to
bring a doctor, and was long absent. Then Mrs. Weiss suddenly felt a
calm certainty that _she_ (though inexperienced in such cares) could
do what was needed. "I heard myself say in a peremptory fashion:
'Ada, don't be afraid, I know just what to do; all will go well'."
All did go well; meanwhile Mr. C. ran to seven doctors' houses, and at
last returned with a young man whom Mrs. Weiss vaguely recognised.
Mrs. C. whispered, "Look at the doctor's cravat". It was blue and
coral sprigged, and then first did Mrs. Weiss remember her dream of
Friday night.

Mrs. Weiss's story is corroborated by Mr. Blanchard, who heard the
story "a few days after the event". Mrs. C. has read Mrs. Weiss's
statement, "and in so far as I can remember it is quite correct". Mr.
C. remembers nothing about it; "he declares that he has no
recollection of it, _or of any matters outside his business_, and
knowing him as I do," says Mrs. Weiss, "I do not doubt the assertion".

Mr. C. must be an interesting companion. The nurse remembers that
after the birth of the baby Mrs. C. called Mr. C.'s attention to "the
doctor's necktie," and heard her say, "Why, I know him by mamma's
description as the doctor she saw in her dreams". {48}

The only thing even more extraordinary than the dream is Mr. C.'s
inability to remember anything whatever "outside of his business".
Another witness appears to decline to be called, "as it would be
embarrassing to him in his business". This it is to be Anglo-Saxon!

We now turn to a Celtic dream, in which knowledge supposed to be only
known to a dead man was conveyed to his living daughter.





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