laboured under the same evil Report, which this good Woman is accused
of. Every Hog that died with the Murrain, every Cow that slipt her
Calf, she was accountable for: If a Horse had the Staggers, she was
supposed to be in his Head; and whenever the Wind blew a little harder
than ordinary, _Goody Giles_ was playing her Tricks, and riding
upon a Broomstick in the Air. These, and a thousand other Phantasies,
too ridiculous to recite, possessed the Pates of the common People:
Horse-shoes were nailed with the Heels upwards, and many Tricks made
use of, to mortify the poor Creature; and such was their Rage against
her, that they petitioned Mr. _Williams_, the Parson of the
Parish, not to let her come to Church; and at last, even insisted upon
it: But this he over-ruled, and allowed the poor old Woman a Nook in
one of the Isles to herself, where she muttered over her Prayers in
the best Manner she could. The Parish, thus disconcerted and enraged,
withdrew the small Pittance they allowed for her Support, and would
have reduced her to the Necessity of starving, had she not been still
assisted by the benevolent Mr. _Williams_.

But I hasten to the Sequel of my Story, in which you will find, that
the true Source from whence Witchcraft springs is _Poverty_,
_Age_, and _Ignorance_; and that it is impossible for a
Woman to pass for a Witch, unless she is _very poor_, _very
old_, and lives in a Neighbourhood where the People are _void of
common Sense_.

Some Time after, a Brother of her's died in _London_, who, though he
would not part with a Farthing while he lived, at his Death was
obliged to leave her five thousand Pounds, that he could not carry
with him.--This altered the Face of _Jane_'s Affairs prodigiously:
She was no longer _Jane_, alias _Joan Giles_, the ugly old Witch, but