Was’t not enough, when thou, prophane Diſeaſe, Did’ſt on this Glorious Temple ſeize ? Was’t not enough, like a wild Zealot, there All the rich outward Ornaments to tear, Deface the innocent pride of beauteous Images ? Was’t not enough thus rudely to defile, But thou muſt quite deſtroy the goodly Pile ?

Pullets became hens in the henhouse, producing eggs that Kate swapped at Henry's for coffee and salt, or that Kate collected in egg cartons in the toolshed for the Boston eggman to pick up every two weeks, fresh eggs.

She was furious, as evidenced by her slamming the door.

[…] when he came out [the Captain] ask’d them, if they approv’d of his running the Ship on Shoar at all Adventures; to which they all unanimously agreed, and cry’d out Any Thing to save our Lives.