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  Poisoned Apple Perfume Oil

  The queen stepped before her mirror:

  Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
  Who in this land is fairest of all?

  The mirror answered:

  You, my queen, are fair; it is true.
  But Little Snow-White with the seven dwarfs
  Is a thousand times fairer than you.

  When the queen heard this, she shook and trembled with anger, “Snow-White will die, if it costs me my life!” Then she went into her most secret room — no one else was allowed inside — and she made a poisoned, poisoned apple. From the outside it was red and beautiful, and anyone who saw it would want it. Then she disguised herself as a peasant woman, went to the dwarfs’ house and knocked on the door.

  Snow-White peeped out and said, “I’m not allowed to let anyone in. The dwarfs have forbidden it most severely.”

  “If you don’t want to, I can’t force you,” said the peasant woman. “I am selling these apples, and I will give you one to taste.”

  “No, I can’t accept anything. The dwarfs don’t want me to.”

  “If you are afraid, then I will cut the apple in two and eat half of it. Here, you eat the half with the beautiful red cheek!” Now the apple had been so artfully made that only the red half was poisoned. When Snow-White saw that the peasant woman was eating part of the apple, her desire for it grew stronger, so she finally let the woman hand her the other half through the window. She bit into it, but she barely had the bite in her mouth when she fell to the ground dead.

  The queen was happy, went home, and asked her mirror:

  Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
  Who in this land is fairest of all?

  And it answered:

  You, my queen, are fairest of all.

  A perfect, lovely, gleaming red apple whose sweetness masks a swirl of narcotic opium, oleander, and hemlock.

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  Phantom Team of Horses Perfume Oil

  About two miles from the village of Canton, Me., is a cosey, old-fashioned farm-house which is located directly opposite a graveyard, with no other house in sight. From the window of this little house nothing can be seen except the graveyard with its gleaming stones, and the hills and mountains round about.
  
  The family that has been occupying the house moved out not long ago, declaring that they could not stand it any longer, that they were wellnight distracted by the demonstrations. When they told their story a former resident, who now lives in Hartford, announced that he had known for years that the place was haunted. He had not told any one for fear of the ridicule of his neighbors.
  
  The demonstrations were not only in the house, but in the barn and around the premises. Regularly every night at 12 o’clock a team of horses rushes from the direction of the village, rumbles over the little bridge at a slashing gait, and then disappears. It never reaches the house. Instead, ghostly voices address the members of the family who have the temerity to live there, the voices coming from all parts of the house, but never so clearly that they can be located.
  
  On one memorable night a member of the family went to the barn just at dusk without a lantern. A figure stood at the corner of the building, and he ran to learn what the straggler wanted about the place. The figure silently and mysteriously melted into the shadows and was gone.
  
  The Buffalo News, April 20, 1904
  
  A spectral cacophony of shimmering, translucent dun sandalwood, grey amber, and wraith-chilled chestnut galloping through the mist-cloaked shadows of time, a clattering of clove and black pepper, and a crack of phantom leather.

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  Who Would Not Tremble, Too? 2024 Perfume Oil

  The new discovery of “Table Moving,” by means of an unseen power from the human hand, has only been introduced into England within the last few weeks; but it would be difficult to dingle out any scientific subject which has with such rapidity, taken so extensive a hold of the popular mind. If we travel by railway carriage, steamboat, or omnibus, this is the universal topic of conversation. From the aristocratic saloons of Belgravia to the “Parlours” of Whitechapel – the Green Park to the Cat and Mutton Fields, “table moving” is all the rage. From the Royal Institution, where the secretary pokes his head through a forest of electrical apparatus, to inform the audience that the facts are established, down to the humblest Mechanics’ Institute, all are full of it, and the tables, to quote the words of the old song – “are all a moving, move, move, moving,” – Every evening party must of course have its experiments; accordingly, gentlemen come provided with very elegant chapeaux for the occasion, and many an innocent flirtation occurs consequent on the proper arrangement of the little fingers of some of the fair operators. As “sweet eighteen,” with her blue eyes and golden locks, gracefully links her little finger with Charles’s, in a retired corner, what wonder if the hat should tremble? And Charles, being of course fond of poetry (his very name is a guarantee for that), cannot resist softly breathing into Lucy’s ear, that exquisite line from Waller, on his fair one’s harp –

   

  “Touched by that hand – who would not tremble too?”

   

  And after a little more conversation of a strictly scientific character, they feel quite satisfied with the success of the experiment. Mamma, who has been watching the progress of the magnetic influence at a distance, “has no patience with such nonsense, and wonders young men and young women cannot find something better to do.” She forgets that there was a magnetic influence at work about twenty years since, and what little trifles served as conductors then.

  – Table Moving, its causes and phenomena: with directions how to experiment

   

  A spirit-touched courtship: sweet orange blossom, white honey, jasmine tea, white sandalwood, green apple, and lily of the valley.

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  A Cup of Tea in the Verandah Perfume Oil

  Whilst I was residing at Maulmain I saw a ghost with my own eyes in broad daylight, of which I could make an affidavit. I had an old schoolfellow, who was afterwards a college friend, with whom I had lived in the closest intimacy. Years, however, had passed away without our seeing each other. One morning I had just got out of bed, and was dressing myself, when suddenly my old friend entered the room. I greeted him warmly, told him to call for a cup of tea in the verandah, and promised to be with him immediately. I dressed myself in all haste, and went out into the verandah, but found no one there. I could not believe my eyes. I called to the sentry, who was posted at the front of the house, but he had seen no strange gentlemen that morning, The servants also declared that no such person had entered the house. I was certain I had seen my friend. I was not thinking about him at the time : yet I was not taken by surprise, as steamers and other vessel were frequently arriving at Maulmain. A fortnight afterwards, news arrived that he had died, six hundred miles off, almost the very time I saw him at Maulmain. It is useless to comment upon this story. To this day I have never doubted that I really saw the ghost of my deceased friend.
  
  Banbury Advertiser, 18 July 1878
  
  A fragrance steeped in wistful melancholy and the ache of near-forgotten longing. Black tea and bergamot shimmer in the glow of sunlit amber as cypress boughs cast lingering shadows. The heart blooms softly with jasmine sambac and tender orris.

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