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THE
HISTORY
OF
A WILD GIRL.
ONE evening in the month of September 1731, a girl nine or ten years old, pressed, as it would seem, by thirst, entered about the twilight into Songi, a village situated four or five leagues south of Chalons in Champagne. She had nothing on her feet: her body was covered with rags and skins: her hair with a gourd leaf; and her face and hands were black as a Negroe's. She was armed with a short baton, thicker at one end than the other, like a club. Those who first observed her, took to their heels, crying out, "There is the devil." And indeed her dress and colour might very well suggest this idea to the country people. Happiest were they who could soonest secure their doors and windows;
but
