“’Tis rye bread,” Elizabeth explained as she began to slip eight more loaves into the oven.

“Rye bread?” Mercy questioned. Only the poorest farmers with marshy land ate rye bread.

“I grew up on rye bread,” Elizabeth explained. “I do indeed like its spicy taste. But you may wonder why I am baking so many loaves. The reason is I have in mind to encourage the whole village to utilize rye to conserve the wheat supplies. As you know, the cool wet weather through spring and summer and now this terrible winter has hurt the crop.”

“It is a noble thought,” Mercy said. “But perhaps it is an issue for the men to discuss at the town meeting.”

Elizabeth then shocked Mercy with a hearty laugh. When Elizabeth noticed Mercy’s expression, she explained herself: “The men don’t think in such practical terms. They are more concerned with the polemic between the village and the town. Besides, there is more than a poor harvest. We women must think of the refugees from the Indian raids since it is already the fourth year of King William’s War and there’s no end in sight.”

“A woman’s role is in the home…” Mercy began, but she trailed off, taken aback by Elizabeth’s pertness.

“I’ve also been encouraging people to take the refugees into their homes,” Elizabeth said as she dusted the flour from her hands on her smocked apron. “We’ve taken in two children after the raid on Casco, Maine, a year ago last May.” Elizabeth called out sharply to the children and interrupted their play by insisting they come to meet the doctor’s wife.

Elizabeth first introduced Mercy to Rebecca Sheaf, age twelve, and Mary Roots, age nine. Both had been cruelly orphaned during the Casco raid, but now both appeared hale and happy. Next Elizabeth introduced Joanna, age thirteen, Ronald’s daughter from a previous marriage. Then came her own children: Sarah, age ten; Jonathan, age nine; and Daniel, age three. Finally Elizabeth introduced Ann Putnam, age twelve; Abigail Williams, age eleven; and Betty Parris, age nine, who were visiting from Salem Village.