"The lady observes, 'In the year 1772, (I was then nineteen), I passed six months at Aix, in Provence. I there heard the popular story of one of the fountains in that city having been discovered by a boy who always expressed an aversion for passing one particular spot, crying out each time _there was water_. This was held by myself and by the family I was with, in utter contempt. In the course of the spring the family went to pass a week at the Chateau d'Ansonis, situated a few miles to the north of the Durance, a tract of country very mountainous and where water was ill supplied. We found the Marquis d'Ansonis busied in erecting what may be termed a miniature aqueduct to convey a spring the distance of half a league, or nearly as much, to his chateau, which spring he asserted had been found out by a peasant, who made the discovery of water his occupation in that country, and maintained himself by it, and was known by the appellation of _L'Homme a la Baguette_. This account was received with unbelief almost amounting to derision. The Marquis, piqued with being discredited, sent for the man and requested we would witness the experiment. A large party of French and English accordingly attended. The man was quite a peasant in manners and appearance: he produced some twigs cut from a hazel, of different sizes and strength, only they were forked branches, and hazel was preferred as forking more equally than most other trees, but it was not requisite that the angle should be of any particular number of degrees. He held the ends of the twigs between each forefinger and thumb, with the vertex pointing downwards. Standing where there was no water, the baguette remained motionless. Walking gradually to the spot where the spring was _under ground_, the twig was sensibly affected; and, as he approached the spot, began to turn round; that is, the vertex raised itself and turned towards his body, and continued to turn till the point was vertical; it then descended outwards, and continued to turn, describing a circle as long as he remained standing over the spring, or till one or both the branches were broken by the twisting, the ends being firmly grasped by the fingers and thumbs, and the hands kept stationary, so that the rotary motion must, of course, twist them. After seeing him do this repeatedly, the whole party tried the baguette in succession, but without effect. I chanced to be the last. No sooner did I hold the twig as directed than it began to move as with him, which startled me so much, that I dropt it and felt considerably agitated. I was, however, induced to resume the experiment, and the effect was perfect. I was then told it was no very unusual thing, many having that faculty--which, from what has since come to my knowledge, I have reason to believe is true. On my return to England I forbore to let this faculty (or whatever you may term it) be known, fearing to become the topic of conversation or discussion. But two years afterwards,