Block · one region of the page, as the scanner read it. It may hold a whole story, part of one, several, or an advertisement; stitching blocks into articles is the next step. Text is supplied OCR.
Page 5 · column 1 of 6 · from the scan, no model involved
By GERALD S. HAWKINS
Rappahannock News Contributing: Writer
“My name is Hazel,” the young girl said, as she shook my hand rather jerkily in a cold northeast wind, which whipped us as we stood on the Ridge. She was tall, slender, and had large brown eyes.
Her name, Hazel, seemed a good omen for the job ahead. She was a student halfway through a course on water dowsing, and wanted to try out what she had learned in a farm situation. Myself, although I had not been too impressed with the results I had seen in England, I would never turn down the prospect of a gushing spring beneath my feet, and so I had agreed to the experiment.
Hazel was the name of the .' nearby river with clear, soft-flowing water, and on the farm we had witch-hazel trees growing at the edge of the meadow. When you hold a hazel twig in your hand it twists and jumps anytime you are over water — if you are a skilled dowser —of course.
Strangely enough, Hazel refused to use the hazel twigs that I cut for her. They were too brittle, and not -the correct “V” shape. Hazel was strong-willed, competent and in; sisted on doing things her own way.
She pulled out a cut crystal hanging by a silk thread, and explained -how the gentle swing of the crystal would answer questions about water, if water was there, such as “what is the exact location?” “is it running?” and “what is the depth in feet?” She needed to be left alone, in perfect quietness on the slope of the Ridge, otherwise the crystal would pick up the wrong vibrations. ,
My wife, Julia, and I went back into the farm house, and watched the process through a chink in the curtains. Hazel walked slowly up the ■Ridge for a few paces, stopped, and then walked on again. She repeated
94.0%