“Dear child,” murmured a rosy-cheeked young wife, who had put her baby down to assist Deliverance, “here be a sugar-plum I brought ye. We must have remembrance, gossips,” she added, “that her mother has long been dead, though Goodwife Higgins cares for her and that be well, Master Wentworth being a dreamer. Ye ken, gossips, I say it with no malice, the house might go to rack and ruin, for aught he would care, with his nose ever in the still-room.” “Best put the child in the chimney-corner where it be warm,” suggested Goody Dennison; “beshrew me, gossips, the damp o’ these raw spring nights chills the marrow in your bones more than the frosts o’ winter.” So Deliverance was seated on a stool next to Abigail Brewster, with Goodwife Higgins’ apron tied around her neck, a pewter bowl of steaming hasty-pudding in her lap, a mug of milk conveniently near. The goodwives, their attention taken from the little maid, turned their conversation upon witchcraft, and as they talked, sturdy voices shook and florid faces blanched at every gust of wind in the chimney. “Abigail,” whispered Deliverance, “did ye e’er clap eyes on Goody Jones sith she became a witch?” “Never,” answered Abigail. “Father telled me to run lest she give me the malignant touch. Oh dear, I have counted my stitches wrong.” The humming of Goodwife Higgins’ spinning-wheel made a musical accompaniment to all that was said. And the firelight dancing over the spinner’s ruddy face and buxom figure made of her a pleasant picture as she guided the thread, her busy foot on the treadle. Ah, what tales were told around the fireplace of the New England kitchen where centred all homely cheer and comfort, and the gossips’ tongues wagged fast as the glancing knitting-needles flashed! High in the yawning chimney, from ledge to ledge, stretched the great lugpole, made from green wood that it might not catch fire. From it swung on hooks the pots and kettles used in cooking. Bright andirons reflected the dancing flames and on either side were the settles. From the heavy rafters were festooned strings of dried fruit, small yellow and green squashes, scarlet peppers. Sand was scattered over the floor. Darkness, banished by the firelight, lurked in the far corners of the room.