The Witch Hazel and the Sweet Gum 



The English "wych hazel" is an elm. In the mining regions 

 it would be counted the height of folly to sink a shaft without 

 first determining with a hazel wand where the rich veins of coal 

 or metal are. No more would one think of digging a well until 

 the same divining rod pointed to the hidden springs. Our 

 American witch hazel is credited with all the occult powers of the 

 Old World tree from which it gets its name. In hamlets and 

 country neighbourhoods not too close to the currents of modern 

 life we may still meet old fellows who can "water witch," and a 

 goodly number of neighbours who believe in his powers. 



Billy Thompson's well goes dry and he sends in haste for 

 Old Andy. Promptly, but with no undignified haste, the old 

 man goes out into the woods that join his "clearin'." He chooses 

 a forked twig whose Y stands north and south, for the rising and 

 setting suns must have sent their rays through its prongs as it 

 grew. Carefully the leaves are removed, as they drive to Billy's 

 place, where the whole family and a neighbour or two await them. 

 A solemnity settles on the company as the supple twig is grasped 

 by its two forks, thumbs out, knuckles down, and the stem of 

 the Y is thrust forward. Holding it as rigid as his trembling old 

 hands are able, Andy paces with dignity over the ground that 

 Billy has chosen as a convenient site for the new pump. He 

 shakes his head as the stubborn wand keeps its position. "There's 

 no use diggin' than" Billy is disappointed, but convinced. 



Old Andy stumbles along and the wand points downward. 

 It is most emphatic. Back he comes across the same spot, and 

 down goes the wand again. He moves away — even to the other 

 side of the barn — then returns and the sign is repeated over the 

 exact spot indicated before. "D'ye see his wrist move?" asks a 

 doubter, nudging his neighbour, and speaking under his breath. 

 But it is not a time for levity. All eyes are on the seer who 

 announces with proper dignity: "Thar's the place, Billy. The 

 signs is plain. You'll git a good spring-fed well if you go deep 

 enough." And nobody has the hardihood to dispute his word. 



Hamamelis water, or extract of witch hazel, in a variety of 

 brands, is for sale in every country and city drug store. There 

 is widespread faith in its soothing and curative powers when 

 rubbed on bruises and sprains, and applied to burns. Strangely 

 enough, the Indians taught white folks to use it. But chemical 

 analysis has failed to discover any medicinal properties in bark or 



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