The following further information regarding Molly Cass, the Leeming witch, of whom mention has been made, was given to me by Abe Braithwaite, a noted character of Bedale twenty-five years ago. Molly, although a native of Exelby, lived for many years in a cottage close to Leeming Mill: some declare in a disused part of the mill itself. Be that as it may, one night whilst the miller, two others, and Abe’s grandfather were playing cards in the mill, George Winterfield (one of the players) had the nine of hearts dealt to him eight times in succession. As the ninth deal was proceeding, one of the players laid a guinea on the table, offering to wager Winterfield that amount to a shilling, that the nine of hearts did not fall to his hand that deal. ‘Put thi brass i’ thi pocket,’ said Au’d Molly, popping her head just inside the door; ‘thi brass is nut foor him, an’ his brass is nut foor thee. Put thi brass i’ thi pocket, an’ leeak sharp aboot it.’ So terrified was the owner of the guinea of gaining the ill-will of Molly, that he pocketed his guinea at once. When the last card of the deal fell, and whilst the cards still lay on the table, Molly said, ‘Thoo’s gitten ’t again, George; tak thi han’ up and see,’ and such turned out to be the case. ‘Aye, thoo’s gitten it hard eneeaf, an’ thoo’s had it eight times alriddy; t’ au’d un’s[34] i’ tha noo, an’ he’ll nut leeav tha whahl he’s gitten tha altogither. Thoo hed thi chance, an’ thoo wadn’t tak’t, seea Ah’ve potched it inti t’ Swale’ (the name of the river hard by), ‘an’ thoo’ll ’a’e ti gan theer ti late it. T’ Swale’s waiting ti be thi brahdal bed. Thoo’d better gan noo; think on t’ langer thoo waits, an’ t’ langer thoo’ll stay[35].’ On hearing this, George, turning as white as chalk, arose, saying, ‘Ah’ll wed her; Ah’ll mak an honest woman on her, if thoo’ll nobbut gi’e ma anuther chance; Ah’ve rewd all ’at Ah’ve deean.’ To which Molly replied, ‘Ah’s nut off’ns i’ t’ mahnd o’ gi’ing onnybody yah chance, let aleean tweea; thoo sez ’at thoo’ll tak her ti thi bed, Ah’ve sed ’at thoo s’all gan tiv hers. Noo, then, gan thi waays; thi brahd’s waiting foor tha, sha’s ligging asleep on a bed o’ bulls an’ segs. Oh, what a brahdal bed! Oh, what a brahdal bed!’ she screamed, banging to the door.