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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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  The Phenomena of Witchcraft Perfume Oil

  The Rev. Joseph Glanvil, chaplain in ordinary to Charles II., was a writer of great erudition and ability. In his “Sadducismus Triumphatus,” written to show that the phenomena of witchcraft were genuine occurrences, he gives an account of Mr. Mompesson’s haunted house at Tedworth, where it was observed that, on beating or calling for any tune, it would be exactly answered by drumming. When asked by some one to give three knocks, if it were a certain spirit, it gave three knocks and no more. Other questions were put, and answered by knocks exactly. Glanvil himself says, that, being told it would imitate noises, he scratched, on the sheet of the bed, five, then seven, then ten times ; and it returned exactly the number of scratches each time.
  
  Melanethon relates that at Oppenheim, in Germany, in 1620, the same experiment of rapping, and having the raps exactly answered by the spirit which haunted a house, was successfully tried ; and he tells us that Luther was visited by a spirit who announced his coming by “a rapping at his door.”
  
  In the famous Wesley case, the haunting of the house of John Wesley’s father, the Parsonage at Epworth, Lincolnshire, in 1716, for a period of two months, the supposed spirit used to imitate Mr. Wesley’s knock at the gate. It responded to the Amen at prayers. Emily, one of the daughters, knocked ; and it answered her. Mr. Wesley knocked a stick on the joists of the kitchen ; and it knocked again, in number of strokes and in loudness exactly replying. When Mrs. Wesley stamped, it knocked in reply.
  
  It is not surprising that John Wesley was a Spiritualist. “With my last breath,” he writes, “will I bear my testimony against giving up to infidels one great proof of the invisible world ; I mean that of witchcraft, confirmed by the testimony of all ages.”

  Planchette, or The Despair of Science : being a full account of modern spiritualism, its phenomena, and the various theories regarding it : with a survey of French Spiritism, Epes Sargent
  
  Green balsam, bay leaf, fossilized amber, blackened vetiver, and clove bud cloaked in oud.
  

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  Black Annis Perfume Oil

  Vast talons, foul with human flesh, there grew
  In place of hands, and features livid blue
  Glar’d in her visage; while the obscene waist
  Warm skins of human victims close embraced.

  The blue faced hag of the British Hills. She lives in the Dane Hills, Leicestershire, in a cave called Black Annis’ Bower Close, which she dug out of rock with her own iron-strong claws. Dozens of huge cats prowl the Bower with her, and it is guarded by a great pollarded oak in which she hides so that she may catch lambs and small children to eat. She carries her victims back to her cave, where she flays them alive before devouring them. She drapes their skins on her guardian oak to dry. Her skirt is fashioned from the skins of her prey, and her bed is a high-piled bed of their bones.

  Black Annis’ perfume is a mixture of damp cave lichen and oak leaf with a hint of vetiver, civet and anise.

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  Vintage Snow Clown Blow Mold Perfume Oil

  Chase away the sads with a sip from a cheery snowglobe filled with slushy grenadine and lemon-lime soda, topped with a maraschino cherry and illuminated from within by 40 watts of glowing amber.

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