This was rather too much even for Ebenezer's phlegmatic spirit. He
seized his broad-brimmed hat and clapped it on his head.

"Thee will be sorry some day, Susanna, for making game of the
Quakers, and of the godly ones of the earth," he spluttered.

"Go thee to the poultry yard, friend Ebenezer," called Susanna
after him; "the old hen there will give thee a warm welcome. Go and
learn from her how to fight. I warrant thee will learn more from
her than thee has ever known before--more than thine own people
will ever teach thee. Go to the old hen to learn; only I fear thee
will soon flee from her with a text in thy mouth to aid thy legs to
run!"

"Susanna, Susanna!" cried a voice from within, whilst Jack doubled
himself up in a paroxysm of delight, "what are you saying so loud
and free? Come hither, child. You grow over bold, and I cannot have
you in the public room. With whom are you talking there?"

"There is only Jack here now," answered Susanna meekly, although
the sparkle still gleamed in her eyes; "Ebenezer has just gone out.
I was saying farewell to him."

"Come back now, and finish setting the table; and if John will stay
to supper, he will be welcome."

John was only too glad, for he took keen pleasure in the society of
Susanna, and was fond of the quaint old house where his kinsman
lived. He rose and went into the inner room, where Hannah received
him with a smile and a nod.