Roger. How terrible! [All laugh.]
Nathan. He calleth vanity a light and shallow thing, but I'll warrant me he would turn his hour-glass at the least four times while he discoursed upon it.
Myles. More terrible still!
[All laugh again. A knock at the door.
Roger goes to answer it, Nathan sits up
with interest, and Prudence, who has been
walking her corncob doll up and down,
rushes to her Mother's chair.
Roger [his hand on the lock]. Who knocks?
Indian [without]. Eaglefeather!
Roger [turning to his Mother]. Mother, 'tis the Indian boy you helped when he was wounded last winter. May I let him in?
Mother. He hath always been friendly. Open for him, Roger.
Roger [opening the door]. Come in, Eaglefeather! Thou'rt right welcome.
[Enter Indian, bow in hand. Myles and
Nathan go to him.