Another experience. One day at Wyoming, Ill., a friend said to me, "I must introduce you to our 'water-witch,'" who proved to be a gentleman named ----, a banker of the place. After some conversation with him, we agreed to try an experiment together and compare experiences generally. I asked first, "What do you use?" "Willow, hazel or peach--perhaps any green twig would do as well; but I only employ those three." "What would you say to an old barrel hoop?" I asked. "Oh, that would not do at all; there must be sap in the wood." We each took our rod and went forth, I holding mine in my hands, whilst my companion held one end of his in his teeth, the other in both hands. I asked what he meant by that mode of holding the switch. He replied, "That is my way; there is no chance for presumption or pretence in it; some persons can make the switch turn and be deceived." I observed that our switches moved at the same moment, mine turning down, his sidewise; but in every case we agreed, and thus traced a number of streams. I tried his plan, but it would not answer, while his switch moved held in either way. In discussing the matter, I asked his theory, which he declined to give, but which I divined by a question he asked, viz: "Did you ever see a switch turn for stagnant water?" I said, "Yes." "Well," he responded, "I never did, and the rod will not turn over stagnant water for me." "Now," said I, "I understand your theory; it is that the friction of running waters underground produces an electric current which causes the switch to turn." He admitted that I was right. "Now," I said, "I propose to explode two of your notions at once. In the first place, let us get an old barrel hoop." I found one, which we divided. I then went with him across the railroad track, which at that place runs north and south. The rod turned down for both of us at once; in this case he used the rod in his hand. "Now, you see," I said, "that the rail represents stagnant water, and you find that a dry twig or stick is as good as a green one." I then obtained a piece of copper wire from the telegraph office and gave him. He walked across the track with it in his mouth and hands, and in every case the rod turned to the south for him. In finding water the rod always turned for him in the direction the stream ran. I found he knew nothing about estimating the depth beneath the surface. He remarked that he had fancied that he knew much of the subject, but that a man must "live and learn." I went with him to his bank, where we threw down a rod of iron on the floor, and with our switches found the movement to be the same at every trial. Again, we placed a silver coin on the floor, with the same result--trying several times with his hand on my arm. I told him that I meant to invent an instrument for finding water and estimating its depth. A few months ago I received a letter from him, asking after my proposed invention. This gentleman gave me a