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 Dayton Ohio.
and neat -- roads coarse gravel -- side walks paved with large flat lime stone -- formed of depositions of marine shells. 
The dwellings are large and neat. The Stage House is a very large & well kept Tavern -- there are several other taverns in Town -- a Court House, tolerable Presbyterian Church, and a Unitarian Church--the first I have seen in the state. There is a pretty good cotton factory here also. 
A few miles before reaching this town I passed a large and very beautiful ‘Mound’ -- about 300 yards around the base -- & about 12 feet high, or 16, situated in the midst of an extensive plain -- a beautiful young orchard is growing upon it -- Small mounds are very common in this Country -- so far as they have been examined -- they appear to be Indian Cemeteries --

from Virtulon Rich journal and memoir, vol. 1, 1832-1850. Transcribed by Jveitch on 07/24/2020

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1
Notes from a Strange mail bag.
II.

Some years ago I published in the Strand some cases taken from my [[?]] correspondence. They were mostly connected with dreams, and the seemed to arouse some interest, judging from the [[?]] comments. I am now drifting again into the same material, but in a wider sense. I have become [[?]] father Confessor of a large number of people into whose lives there has been some strange intrusion and who imagine that I can give them advice or assistance, which occasionally I have been able to do. I have many drawers and boxes filled with much communications, and they are of the most varied description. I will now take a dip, almost at random, into one of these collections, and present them in my own words to the reader. naturally I make such minor and [[?]] changes as will screen me from any charge of breach of confidence.
The first which I pick out is from an ex-soldier who was sent out upon a [[?]] party and lost himself in No man's land. Presently as he groped about in the dark he met a person in a similar predicament, and after a long [[struggle?]] he choked his antagonist. A Very light went up at the end of the fight, and in its glare he saw the German lad's young face, all twisted into a horrible smirk. After his return to [[?]] he was haunted by this terrible face, which used to come as a sort of vision in the night, the figure of the dead German approaching in a series of [[?]], with the smiling face always luminous and visible. A long course of such visions had broken his nerve and he had lost his promotion in his business on account of his weakened health. What was he to do? The only possible answer was

from Arthur Conan Doyle essay draft, 1930. Transcribed by mmhanson on 06 / 10 / 2026