Roger. Does thee mean truly, Mother?
Mother. Of a truth I do mean it, Roger.
Roger. But, Mother, they will persecute thee——
Myles. And drive us all into the wilderness——
Roger. And with Father away on his ship, who could take care of thee?
Mother. I have come into one wilderness before, Myles. I am not afraid.
Roger. But how can we do it, Mother?
Mother. I will go up to Boston town to-morrow—I can easily walk there and back again before 'tis dusk—and buy what little things I may for gifts. I hear that a ship has but now come into port.
Myles. Doesn't thee wish it was Father's vessel, Roger?
Roger. Then wouldn't we have a Christmas!