Jesse was a slave on the Miller estate, about four miles northwest of Harper's Ferry. Near this plantation was another owned and occupied by John Engle, a pious, God-fearing man, some of whose children are yet alive. As far as we know there are two--Mr. James Engle and his sister, Mrs. Margaret Moler. When these were very young children, their father owned or hired a colored girl to whom our hero, Jesse, desired to pay attentions and with this view, often visited Mr. Engle's house. Mr. Engle, however, positively forbade those visits on account of Jesse's very bad reputation. It was supposed that our hero was deeply offended at this exclusion from the company of his lady-love, and secretly vowed vengeance, although his countenance and general bearing towards the Engle family did not betray his real feeling. One day he visited the house, ostensibly to convey some message from his master. While he was waiting for a return message, Margaret, the five year old daughter of Mr. Engle, who is now the widow of a Mr. John Moler, passed close to him. The negro patted the child and appeared to have a desire to ingratiate himself with her, but the little girl screamed wildly as soon as his hand touched her, and she showed the utmost horror of him. Her screams continued until she got into fits and the greatest difficulty was experienced in restoring her temporarily to her normal condition. But the little one was not the same from that time. Day by day she failed, lost appetite and could not get natural sleep. In a month she was reduced from a hale, hearty and lively child to a mere spiritless skeleton, and hope of her recovery was almost abandoned. At that time regular physicians were not as plentiful as they are now, and old mammies of either color were mostly depended on, especially in cases of ailing children. The Engle family were then, as they are now, among the most respectable in Jefferson county, and, from regard for them as well as for natural sympathy, every mother in the neighborhood and every skillful woman aided in trying to restore the poor child, but in vain. When the little tot was almost exhausted somebody remembered that across the Potomac, in Maple swamp, a place inhabited in a great measure by half-breeds descended from the Indians, lived a certain Mrs. Mullin, whose fame for occult knowledge was wide-spread. Indeed, she was a power even among the professors themselves. To her as a last resort the parents of the child appealed. The benevolent old lady responded at once, and crossed the Potomac on her mission of charity. She took the child on her knee, without the least repugnance on the part of the little girl. What mystic words or rites the old lady used, tradition does not say, but she took from her pocket a pair of scissors and with deliberation clipped the nails from the fingers of the child--from all but one finger--and herein lies the wonder, for the child at once began