neighbour,
to look after her child, but expressly forbade her to suckle it in her
absence. When asked by the court why she gave this caution to an old woman
far past the age of performing such an office, Dorothy answered that Amy
had long had the character of a witch who might suckle the devil himself
or any of his imps; and that moreover old women were apt to give the
breast to a crying child, to please it during its mother's absence; a
habit that made the children ill. But it seems that Amy disobeyed her, for
when she came home the old woman told her that she had given the breast to
her infant, which made Dorothy very cross, and a high quarrel ensued. And
that very night her child was taken with "strange fits of swounding," and
was held in such a terrible manner that she expected to lose it every
moment. Not knowing what to do or where to get it relief, she went to a
certain Doctor Jacob, well known through the country for skill in helping
children that were bewitched, and this Dr. Jacob advised her to hang up
the child's blanket in the chimney corner all the day, and to put the
child into it at night, and not be afraid at anything she might see, but
to throw it at once into the fire. Dorothy did as she was bid, and when
she took the blanket from the chimney-corner, down fell a great toad,
"which ran up and down the hearth, and she having a young youth only with
her in the House, desired him to catch the Toad and throw it into the
Fire; which the youth did accordingly, and held it there with the Tongs;
and as soon as it was in the Fire it made a great and horrible noise, and
after a space there was a flashing in the Fire like Gunpowder, making a
noise like the discharge of a Pistol, and thereupon the Toad was no more
seen nor heard." But Amy Duny sat by her fireside all smirched and
scorched, and in revenge bewitched the little daughter Elizabeth to death,
and further afflicted Dorothy herself with a lameness in both her legs, so
that she was forced to go upon crutches. About which the strangest thing
was, that though she had gone on them for three years now, no sooner was
Amy Duny condemned than she cast them away and went home without them, "to
the great admiration of all persons." This was the first count completed.

The second was made by Samuel Pacy, "a Merchant of Leystoff aforesaid (a
Man who carried himself with so much soberness during the Tryal, from whom
proceeded no words either of Passion or Malice, though