it was John Alden," interrupted Mary innocently.

"I tell thee, girl, it was the captain. John Alden is ever at his elbow
and striving to imitate him, but our captain is still the leader, and I
do honour a man who can think as well as do, and act as well as talk. Of
talkers we have enow, the dear knows; Master Winslow and Master Allerton
can so argue that they would force you to swear black was white and the
moon a good Dutch cheese an they chose, and they can lay out work
marvelously well for others to carry out, but I mark that their own
hands abide in their pockets for the most part. Then there are plenty of
strong arms with no head-pieces, like John Alden and your good friend
Gilbert Winslow and John Howland and"--

"Nay, nay, Priscilla, thou shalt not wrong good men so," interrupted
Mary, her fair face coloring a little. "The leaders aye must lead, and
the younger and simpler aye must follow in every community, and I mark
not that those you flout for speaking so well fail of their share in the
labor, nor do I think John Alden or the rest would do well to thrust
their advice upon their betters. At all rates, yon boat had not slid
down so merrily if John Alden had not put his shoulder to the work."

"Yea, put his shoulder where the captain laid his hand," retorted
Priscilla with her mocking laugh, and then putting her arm around Mary's
shoulders, she added affectionately,--

"What a wise little woman thou art, ever looking at both sides of the
matter while I see but one! And in truth, perhaps, it is better that
there be these varied excellences, so that all comers may be suited,
just as thou art fond of porridge while I would liefer have soup."

"And art a rare hand at compounding it," replied Mary admiringly. "How
Desire Minter smacked her lips over the dish thou gavest her the other
day."

"That poor Desiree, as my gossip Jeanne De la Noye used to call her! I
like well to give her some tasty bit, for it makes her so happy at so
little trouble to myself, since I am ever cooking."

"Dost thou really like cooking, Priscilla; or dost thou do it because
thou ought, as I do?" asked Mary, who hated the culinary art, and yet
was called upon to practice it, as were all young women of the day.

"Oh, I love it," replied Priscilla, with enthusiasm. "My mother and my
grandmother and all my aunts were notable cooks, and in the good old
days in France before I was born, they say my grandmother's pates and
conserves and r