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  Blueberry Lavender Lemon Crepes Perfume Oil

  Limoncello-soaked blueberries nestled between layers of golden crepe, topped with a splort of lavender whipped cream and sprinkled with tiny curls of lemon zest.

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  The Fox Sisters 2024 Perfume Oil

  For the sake of continuity the subsequent history of the Fox sisters will now be given after the events at Hydesville. It is a remarkable, and to Spiritualists a painful, story, but it bears its own lesson and should be faithfully recorded. When men have an honest and whole-hearted aspiration for truth there is no development which can ever leave them abashed or find no place in their scheme.
  
  For some years the two younger sisters, Kate and Margaret, gave séances at New York and other places, successfully meeting every test which was applied to them. Horace Greeley, afterwards a candidate for the United States presidency, was, as already shown, deeply interested in them and convinced of their entire honesty. He is said to have furnished the funds by which the younger girl completed her very imperfect education.
  
  During these years of public mediumship, when the girls were all the rage among those who had no conception of the religious significance of this new revelation, and who concerned themselves with it purely in the hope of worldly advantage, the sisters exposed themselves to the enervating influences of promiscuous séances in a way which no earnest Spiritualist could justify. The dangers of such practices were not then so clearly realized as now, nor had it occurred to people that it is unlikely that high spirits would descend to earth in order to advise as to the state of railway stocks or the issue of love affairs. The ignorance was universal, and there was no wise mentor at the elbow of these poor pioneers to point the higher and the safer path. Worst of all, their jaded energies were renewed by the offer of wine at a time when one at least of them was hardly more than a child. It is said that there was some family predisposition towards alcoholism, but even without such a taint their whole procedure and mode of life were rash to the last degree. Against their moral character there has never been a breath of suspicion, but they had taken a road which leads to degeneration of mind and character, though it was many years before the more serious effects were manifest.

   

  Some idea of the pressure upon the Fox girls at this time may be gathered from Mrs. Hardinge Britten’s* description from her own observation. She talks of “pausing on the first floor to hear poor patient Kate Fox, in the midst of a captious, grumbling crowd of investigators, repeating hour after hour the letters of the alphabet, while the no less poor, patient spirits rapped out names, ages and dates to suit all comers.” Can one wonder that the girls, with vitality sapped, the beautiful, watchful influence of the mother removed, and harassed by enemies, succumbed to a gradually increasing temptation in the direction of stimulants?
  —Arthur Conan Doyle
  
  Deception and despair: rose geranium and tea roses with mahogany wood, bourbon vanilla, and apple peel.

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  The Human Double Perfume Oil

  Among the most intelligent inquirers with whom I converse at Brighton was a lady of title. She told me that she was one of those present at the Davenport séance, held at the residence of Sir Hesketh Fleetwood. She was seated in the dark séance by the side of a gentleman whose previous scepticism, he confessed to her, was fast disappearing in the face of the facts they were witnessing, when a light was suddenly struck, and both of them distinctly saw the form of Ira Davenport glide close past them. This incident very much disturbed the confidence of Lady L—, and entirely satisfied the sceptic that imposition was practiced, and he left the room a confirmed unbeliever. I told Lady L—that, on his return to London, Mr. Ferguson spoke to me of this very fact, as one of the most curious that had yet occurred at any of the séances. He was holding, he said, the box of matches, as he usually does, when the box was snatched from his hand, and a light was struck by the invisible operator, and during the momentary ignition of the match he plainly saw a form, apparently of a human figure. He said nothing at the moment, but whispering the fact to Mr. Fay, he confirmed it, and afterwards several of those present admitted that that, too, had seen it. Mr. Ferguson, however, was not aware that anyone present supposed it to be the actual person of Ira Davenport, as no observation to that effect was made, and as Ira Davenport was seen instantly afterwards when the light was restored, fast bound to his chair, it was simply impossible that the suspicions of Lady L—or her friend could have been well founded.
  
  But, admitting that two competent witnesses did actually see the form of Ira Davenport on that occasion, it is corroborative of a very important and interesting fact, and distinct phase of these puzzling mysteries of spiritual appearances – viz., the duplication of individual form. Mr. Ferguson, who did not on that occasion recognize the resemblance to Ira Davenport, nevertheless has, as he solemnly asserts, seen at other times, when alone with them, the entire duplicated form of Ira Davenport, and a part of Mr. Fay ; and in my first conversation with the Davenport Brothers they told me, among other curious facts of their extraordinary history, that persons had said they had met one or other of them in places where they had not been. On one occasion their father went to a neighbouring shop to order some fruit, when he was told by the shopkeeper that his son Ira had just been there, and had ordered the fruit. It was, however, satisfactorily proved that Ira had not left the house, and that the man must have seen his “wraith,” or “double.”
  
  The Spiritualist, December 19, 1873

  
  The uncanny echo of your second self: a shadow-blackened fougere steeped in an uncanny, discomfiting lavender tar.
  

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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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