So many distractions in summer. Ben was off working for James Dudley today, and John fidgeted. Every sound that reached them through the oiled paper window of the meetinghouse called to the ten-year-old boy. The oppressive heat found them, even inside the big building, though it was cooler inside than out in the scalding sun. It was a wonder the boy learned anything at all. He thought of Christine and the girls, no doubt baking today, poor things. He’d told Christine she needn’t build the fire this morning, but she insisted that if she didn’t, they’d have no bread tomorrow and their fish would be presented raw at supper. He would keep himself and John away from the house all day so that she and the girls could work in their shifts. Even so, they were likely to swelter in the little house. Did they have plenty of water for their cooking and washing needs? It took determination to put his household out of his mind. He had only another thirty hours before evening worship, and he had much work to do on Sunday’s two sermons as well.
