hurn. If a Horse sweats in the Stable, _Moll White_ has been upon
his Back. If a Hare makes an unexpected Escape from the Hounds, the
Huntsman curses _Moll White_. Nay, (says Sir Roger) I have known the
Master of the Pack, upon such an Occasion, send one of his Servants to
see if _Moll White_ had been out that Morning.

This Account raised my Curiosity so far, that I begged my Friend Sir
Roger to go with me into her Hovel, which stood in a solitary Corner
under the side of the Wood. Upon our first entring Sir Roger winked to
me, and pointed at something that stood behind the Door, which upon
looking that way I found to be an old Broomstaff. At the same time he
whispered me in the Ear to take notice of a Tabby Cat that sat in the
Chimney-Corner, which, as the old Knight told me, lay under as bad a
Report as _Moll White_ her self; for besides that _Moll_ is said often
to accompany her in the same Shape, the Cat is reported to have spoken
twice or thrice in her Life, and to have played several Pranks above
the Capacity of an ordinary Cat.

I was secretly concerned to see Human Nature in so much Wretchedness
and Disgrace, but at the same time could not forbear smiling to hear
Sir Roger, who is a little puzzled about the old Woman, advising her
as a Justice of the Peace to avoid all Communication with the Devil,
and never to hurt any of her Neighbours' Cattle. We concluded our
Visit with a Bounty, which was very acceptable.

In our Return home Sir Roger told me, that old _Moll_ had been often
brought before him for making Children spit Pins, and giving Maids the
Night-Mare; and that the Country People would be tossing her into a
Pond and trying Experiments with her every Day, if it was not for him
and his Chaplain.

I have since found, upon Enquiry, that Sir Roger was several times
staggered with the Reports that had been brought him concerning this
old Woman, and would frequently have bound her over to the County
Sessions, had not his Chaplain with much ado perswaded him to the
contrary.

I have been the more particular in this Account, because I hear there
is scarce a Village in _England_ that has not a _Moll White_ in it.
When an old Woman begins to doat, and grow chargeable to a Parish, she
is generally turned into a Witch, and fills the whole Country with
extravagant Fancies, imaginary Distempers, and terrifying Dreams. In
the meantime the poor Wretch that is the innocent Occasion of so many
Evils begins to be fri