Thank you for the invitation but I must be getting back and start developing my film which will keep me busy for some time. Katie, boys, would you like to stay here or go back to Albion Towers with me? 'Oh do stay,' begged Barbara. These meetings can be tedious but they don't last too long and then if you have time we can go back to my house for tea and crumpets. I can always arrange for Connor to take you back in one of our carriages.' No doubt because Mr. Nolan would be busy in the darkroom, Katie promptly accepted her invitation but Frank decided to go back home with Fred Nolan as he genuinely did feel the beginnings of a headache coming upon him (in later life poor Frank-or Sir Frank Folkestone to give my oldest friend his proper present-day nomenclature, for he inherited the family baronetcy in April 1912 when his father perished at sea, being a passenger on the ill-fated Titanic-has suffered badly from severe migraines, the pains of which can only be mitigated by lying down in a darkened room and when possible, having his prick sucked by a willing naked maidservant though I doubt whether his physician prescribed this latter treatment!). 'What a shame! After we have concluded the few items of business our little gathering is to be addressed by the hypnotist Dr Glanville Porterfield and it could prove to be a very interesting affair as he will offer to hypnotise members of the audience,' she said with regret. 'Oh, I'd like to come and see Dr Porterfield in action, if I may,' I piped up. 'Certainly, Rupert, do join us,' said Campbell and so I asked Frank to instruct Goldhill to send Wallace our coachman back with the pony and trap to Farnham Village Hall at five o'clock sharp. 'Katie, Wallace can take you back to Harbottle Hall,' I added. So we made our way to Farnham Village Hall where fifty or so ladies and gentlemen of the local gentry were gathered. The main business of the meeting was to thank those ladies and gentlemen who had taken part in the croquet, cricket and lawn tennis matches played by Farnham against other localities. Most of these matters were only of minimal interest but I will record the words of one Mr. Anthony Cheetham, the captain of Farnham cricket team, which so far that season had vanquished all before them, winning eight matches and drawing one, and that only because rain stopped play when Farnham were poised for victory. He asked that despite past successes all members of the side should keep their noses to the grindstone. Mr. Cheetham's wise advice was reproduced later in the week by our county newspaper and, being a keen cricketer myself, I reproduce them here-American readers of my journal may well consider that they apply equally to baseball, a sport which I also enjoy in the summer months. He said: It is related of the Hon. Peter Forbes-Hornby, one of the best-known old Yorkshire gentlemen sportsmen, that whenever he had an unoccupied half hour, he used to set up a stump and bowl at it. It is to be wished that there was more of this commendable practice. Bowling is much more of dogged perseverance than of initial skill and many more players would stand a chance of distinguishing themselves by their bowling than by their batting,' Mr. Forbes-Hornby also said: 'A good cricketer will always keep a ball perpetually about him; to be always tossing it and throwing it so as to get thoroughly used to the feel of it.' Perhaps this is how Mr. Forbes-Hornby achieved his sensational throw of more than one hundred and twenty yards with the cricket ball which was witnessed and attested to by Mr.
Cheetham though it was impossible to ascertain the distance with absolute accuracy for the ball struck the trunk of a tree some four feet from the ground. Once all these affairs had been completed, we settled down to listen to Dr Porterfield's address. He began by explaining just what hypnotism is-an artificially induced state of semi-consciousness characterised by a greatly increased susceptability to suggestions made by the hypnotist. “There is nothing supernatural involved despite the warnings of some ignorant and irresponsible journalists in the popular press,' said Dr Porterfield, a plump, distinguished-looking gentleman who, though almost as bald as a coot, nevertheless sported a full black beard. 'Although the science of hypnotism probably dates back to ancient times, it was the Austrian physician Friedrich Mesmer who first used hypnosis in a medical capacity, proving that by imposing his will upon that of his subject, he could treat his patients and at the same time spare them much pain.
'On the music hall stage, there are hypnotists who put members of the audience in a trance and make them perform strange acts. Frankly, this concerns me as I believe that hypnotism is a serious business and should not be popularised purely for the purposes of amusement.'
His speech was interrupted by a snort of disapproval from a lady sitting in the back row. The Reverend Armstrong, acting as Chairman, frowned and cleared his throat as he stood up, presumably to ask for order, but Dr Porterfield waved his hand. 'No, my dear sir, I think it obvious that the lady at the back has a point to make. Madam, would you like to say something?' The lady concerned rose to her feet.
She was a not unattractive woman in her early thirties, with a haughty expression on her rather sharp features. That's Mrs. Robinson. She's a real martinet of the same ilk as my Papa,' whispered Barbara to us.
'I don't believe a word of all this mumbo-jumbo,' said Mrs.
Robinson firmly. 'I'd like to see somebody try and hypnotise me!'
'Well, rest assured, Madam, it is extremely difficult for even the most expert practitioner to hypnotise somebody against their will,' said Dr Porterfield. 'Stuff and nonsense! That's just an excuse-I've seen a so-called hypnotist at work at a house-party and he pretended to make a gentleman believe he was a duck and go quacking all round the room. He made a lady say “Please do not touch my nose” to another lady five minutes to the second after she came out of her trance and performed other parlour tricks.' Dr Porterfield spread out his hands. These may have been parlour tricks, but I assure you that if the hypnotist was genuine then these tricks, as you term them, were genuine enough and had not been planned beforehand by those concerned.' 'I find that hard to accept and would need further proof,' she said, shaking her head in disbelief. Then come up to the front and I will hypnotise you here and now,' said Dr Porterfield.
'On the condition that you will not fight against me, I will prove to you and the ladies and gentlemen present, that I am not trying to perpetrate a gigantic confidence trick.' 'Very well,' said Mrs.
Robinson and made her way up to the stage to an excited buzz in the audience. Campbell Armstrong gave her his chair and she sat down, looking directly at Dr Porterfield. He called for silence and then took out his pocket watch and dangled it on its chain in front of her.
'Just look at this watch,' he said, 'and follow its progress as it moves from side to side. There, you are feeling sleepy, very sleepy. Your eyes are drooping and now, on the count of three, you will be asleep, one, two, three.' The audience watched fascinated as Mrs. Robinson's eyes closed as she sat slumbering in her chair.
'Raise your right arm,' commanded the hypnotist and she immediately obeyed. 'Now when I tell you to do so, you will try and rest your elbow on your lap. But your arm is so light, as light as a balloon so though you want to bring it down, you find you cannot do so because it flies up again straightaway. Now, on the count of three, try to bring down your arm, one, two, three!' It was quite extraordinary how Mrs.
Robinson dropped her arm and that as soon as she did so, it shot up again as if of its own accord! 'Are your subjects able to speak under hypnosis?' asked Katie Harbottle. 'Oh yes,' said Dr Porterfield and, turning to Mrs. Robinson, told her to open her eyes.
'Now perhaps you will tell us if you received any visitors at home earlier today?' An innocent enough question to be sure-but what a Pandora's Box was opened when Mrs. Robinson replied that her friend Mrs. Thatcher had come round for morning coffee. 'Oh, yes,' said Dr Porterfield. 'And what did you talk about?' Mrs. Robinson replied: 'We had a most exciting conversation about Walsh, the new window cleaner who has taken over from Chamberlain who moved to Alwoodley last month. Walsh is a most personable young man and does his work far better than his predecessor.' 'He makes the windows shine brighter?' prompted the hypnotist. 'Never mind the bloody windows,' she said impatiently. 'It's his prick that Mrs. Thatcher and I were concerned about.' 'His what?' spluttered Dr Porterfield, who was as shocked as anyone in the hall. 'His prick,' she repeated. 'After all, Chamberlain was hardly up to completing his round any more, what with trying to satisfy up to a dozen ladies who wanted to be fucked during one working day. But I think Walsh will be able to cope. He came round yesterday afternoon and after he'd done his work he came into the drawing room-' 'Stop her, Dr Porterfield, tell her to stop talking!' said Campbell Armstrong urgently, pulling Dr Porterfield's coat-tails to attract his attention. But the unfortunate hypnotist's foot slipped as he turned back again to instruct Mrs. Robinson to keep quiet-though by now the cat was well and truly out of the bag-and he crashed over Reverend Armstrong's chair sending them both sprawling onto the floor. Although the curate was only slightly dazed by the impact, our poor speaker hit his head on the floor with a resounding crack and was as soundly out for the count as if a pugilist had felled him with an uppercut.