set it against a hole in the wall, and made a circle round about the
pot, and then cried, Come Christ, come Christ, come Mounsier, come
Mounsier." No imps appearing, she said her daughters had carried them off
in a white bag, and demanded that the said daughters might be "searched,"
"for they were naught." They were searched, and were found witch-marked.
Margaret denied all the charges against herself, but was condemned
nevertheless; and only escaped the executioner's hands by dying on her way
to the gallows.

Judith Moone helped her mother a step gallowsward by a rambling, pointless
confession about some wood, and how her mother threatened her, and how
something seemed to come about her legs that night; but when she searched
she found nothing; so Judith Moone probably died because she did not know
how to distinguish a false sensation from a true one.

Elizabeth Harvey, widow, Sarah Hating, wife, Marian Hocket, widow, were
"searched:" the first two were marked, the last not, but yet was the worst
witch of all, for she had made Elizabeth Harvey as bad as herself by
bringing her three things the bigness of mouses, which she said were
"pretty things," and to be made use of. As for Sarah Hating, she had sent
Francis Stock's wife a snake, which the said wife espied lying on a shelf,
and strove to kill with a spade, but the snake was too quick for her and
vanished away; so Francis Stock's wife was taken sick, and within one week
died. A daughter was taken ill immediately after her mother, and she also
died, and then another child; all because Francis Stock had impressed
Sarah Hating's husband for a soldier, and Sarah Hating was angered. Marian
Hocket was told on by her own sister, Sarah Barton, who said that she had
given her three imps, "Littleman, Prettyman, and Dainty." They were all
executed, Sarah and Marian denying their guilt, but Elizabeth Harvey
sticking to her tale of the three mouses which Marian had brought her, and
which sucked her.

Rose Hallybread bewitched Robert Turner's servant so that he crowed like a
cock, barked like a dog; groaned beyond the ordinary course of nature,
and, though but a youth, struggled with such strength that four or five
men could not hold him. Says Rose, fifteen or sixteen years ago, Goodwife
Hagtree brought an imp to her house which she nourished on oatmeal, and
suckled according to the manner of witches, for the space of a year and a
half--when she lost it; then Joyce Boanes brough