stood at the east of the old house, and held its own till well into the present century, and little John may have been on his way for a windfall, when the capon flew toward him. To stealing was added offences much more malicious, several discreet Puritan lads, sons of the foremost land holders having been induced by sudden temptation, to join him in running Mr. Bradstreet's wheels down hill into a swamp, while at a later date they watched him recreating himself in the same manner alone, testifying that he "took a wheele off Mr. Bradstreet's tumbril and ran it down hill, and got an old wheel from Goodman Barnard's land, & sett it on the tumbril."
John received the usual punishment, but mended his ways only for a season, his appetite rather increasing with age, and his appearance before the Court being certain in any town to which he went. No other servant seems to have given special trouble, and probably all had laid to heart the "Twelve Good Rules," printed and hung in every colonial kitchen:
Profane no Divine ordinance.
Touch no state matters.
Urge no healths.
Pick no quarrels.
Encourage no vice.
Repeat no grievances.
Reveal no secrets.
Mantain no ill opinions.
Make no comparisons.
Keep no bad company.
Make no long meals.
Lay no wagers.
The problem of work and wages weighed heavily on the young Colony. There were grasping men enough
