"We have been trying experiments at Colonel Dutton's, and Mr. Johnson's, and at our house, and we find that we can make the tables move about the room as long as we keep our hands on them. We have not yet succeeded in making them follow us or spring up from the floor; but I have no doubt we shall. Our power seems to increase every day." "What kind of power is it?" "Some persons think it a new development of electricity. I think myself it is some mysterious physical agent residing in our bodies--a kind of magnetism that works all these wonders. That is also Dr. Whitman's opinion." "How do you try your experiments?" asked I, rather more inclined to believe in it, since I had heard those scientific terms and Dr. Whitman's name. "We sit round a table, and lay our hands upon it so as to cover as large a surface as possible; the thumbs must touch, and the little fingers of each hand be in contact with the little fingers of the one on either side, so as to form a complete circle. You must not allow any other part of your person or dress to touch the table, or the communication will be interrupted; and it is better not to talk or laugh, but to be perfectly quiet and intent on your object." Thus fully instructed, I went home bent on experimenting. Who could tell but that I should go to my room at night followed by all the furniture in the drawing-room in a slow procession? Though thus extravagant in my hopes, I showed a proper humility in my first attempts, selecting a very small tea-poy as the object of my experiment. I obtained an assistant, a lady, who, at first, when seated opposite to me with her hands outspread on the table before her, having nothing else to do, was very much inclined to converse, but, at my earnest entreaty, she relapsed into silence; and thus we sat for two weary hours. I had been told that my fingers would tingle, and they did tingle, and that was the sole result of this patient waiting. Tired out at last, we came to the conclusion either that, in our ignorance, we had neglected something essential to the success of the attempt, or that we were entirely deficient in that mysterious physical agent, of which some other persons seemed to possess such a super-abundance. After having been pursued all night by tables, from which my utmost efforts hardly enabled me to escape, I arose with a nightmare-feeling of oppression upon me, for which a walk in the bracing air of a cold bright day in February seemed the best remedy. "I will run over directly after breakfast to Mrs. Atwood's, to get the receipt for that new pudding, which she promised me, and then return and devote the rest of the morning to making calls," thought I. And, accordingly, a little after nine, I put my head into Mrs. Atwood's sitting-room.