CHAPTER II

ONE SABBATH

It was Sabbath morning, and Naomi and her mother and Ezra were on their

way to the synagogue.

They chose back streets as they went, and they met only women and

children on their way, for the front roads on the Sabbath day were given

up to the men.

Naomi was happy as she walked quietly along holding fast to her mother's

hand, for she wore her new hyacinth-blue robe that her mother had spun

and her father had woven for her.

Ezra had other thoughts, and presently he whispered in Naomi's ear:

"In two years' time I shall be a Son of the Law, and then I shall sit on

the men's side in the synagogue, and walk on the front streets on

Sabbath. Thou and Mother will have to come alone."

Naomi shook her head.

"Jonas will walk with us then," she whispered back. "Boaster!"

She did not really blame Ezra for his lordly words and air, for she knew

how every Jewish boy looked forward to what was called his Day of

Freedom, when by a priest in the synagogue he was made a Son of the Law.

Then he would be no longer a child, but a young man. His school days

would be over. He would choose a trade and begin to earn his own living.

But it was a comfort to Naomi to think that, with Ezra gone, little

Jonas would trot along by her side, and she was thinking of baby Jonas,

left every Sabbath morning in the care of lame Enoch's old grandmother,

now grown too feeble to climb the hill to the synagogue, when Aunt

Miriam overtook them.

Aunt Miriam's husband, Simon, was a wealthy man in the village of

Bethlehem. He was the owner of the guest-house or khan that stood a

little below the town on the way leading down into Egypt, and which was

believed to have been the dwelling of Boaz and Ruth, and the birth-place

of King David himself.

To-day Aunt Miriam wore a robe of fine linen, covered with a wide cloak

of black and white stripes, and her earrings and bracelets tinkled at

every step. On week-days the children knew her to be bustling and chatty

and fond of a jest. But the Sabbath saw her a different woman. Stately

and dignified she walked beside them now, her brown eyes gazing far away

and full of holy thought.

The children felt awed and shy with her as they might with a stranger.

Ezra stopped his whispering. Naomi glanced timidly up, her head held

sideways like a little bird.

"How good Aunt Miriam is!" she mused.

But her aunt's thoughts wandered for a moment from their pious

meditations. Suddenly she loosened the veil that was pulled across her

face and spoke briefly to Naomi's mother.

"I shall come to see thee to-night after sundown. I go to Jerusalem

to-morrow, and there may be room in the cart for a certain good little

maid."

Naomi's heart leaped. Did Aunt Miriam mean her? What other little girl

might she take with her? But she had said "a good little maid," and

Naomi remembered with a pang of regret how she and Ezra had quarreled

yesterday, and had not ceased their bickering until at sunset the three

blasts of the silver trumpet, blown by the priest on the synagogue roof,

had reminded them that Sabbath eve had come.

She longed to ask outright: "Dost thou mean to take me to Jerusalem

with thee, Aunt Miriam?"

But they had reached the flat-roofed little synagogue, and once inside

the gate the children silently followed their mother and aunt into the

women's court and seated themselves on the mats that covered the stone

floor.

Naomi's mind was so occupied by the thought of a possible trip to

Jerusalem that she forgot to peep, according to her wont, through the

lattice that separated the men's court from that of the women, in the

hope of seeing her father. She usually watched with interest while the

sacred Rolls were taken from their curtained shrine, before which burned

the holy lamp, and their outer cover of gold-embroidered silk and inner

cover of linen removed.

But this morning she scarcely heard the voice of the visiting rabbi who

read the lesson for the day, and her mother was obliged to twitch her

vigorously when, during the prayers, the congregation rose to their feet

and turned toward the Holy City.

The Sabbath day seemed endless to the eager little girl. All work and

play were forbidden. No fire might be lighted, no bed made. Naomi had

been well taught in the Law. She knew that it would be sinful for her

even to carry a handkerchief tucked in her belt. And so surely not until

Sabbath was over would the trip to Jerusalem be discussed.

She sat alone in the shade of the fig-tree that grew beside their door,

and wished that she might see her friends Rachel and Rebekah to tell

them the good news. She watched the great sun flame through the bright

Syrian sky until her eyes burned and ached, but still it was not

sundown. At last she curled herself up on the floor of the house with

heavy-eyed Three Legs at her side and fell asleep.

When she woke it was the First Watch of the Evening, six o'clock, and

the crimson sun was sinking out of sight behind the Judean hills. Naomi

sprang up and ran into the garden. There on the bench under the

orange-tree sat her father and mother and Aunt Miriam.

Aunt Miriam was talking.

"And so, since Simon is still sick with a heavy summer cold, nothing

will do but I must ride to Jerusalem to-morrow with the load of grapes,"

she was saying. Simon had large vineyards and owned many olive-trees,

beside being host at the inn. "To be sure, Jacob is a good serving-lad

and manages well without his master. But there is no one, after himself,

who makes a better bargain than I, Simon says, and so I must ride with

the fruit to see that justice is done my lord Simon in the trade."

Here Aunt Miriam laughed so heartily that Samuel and his wife were

forced to smile in sympathy. But Samuel was not altogether pleased with

Aunt Miriam's little joke about her husband, who was in truth her lord

and master and worthy of her deepest respect. He changed the subject by

asking:

"And what does the physician say of Simon?"

"He recommended that he kiss the nose of a mule," Aunt Miriam answered

gravely.

To her and to her audience there was nothing amusing about this

prescription. Stranger remedies than that had been ordered by the wise

doctors of the day: a broth of beetle's legs, crab's eyes, the heads of

mice, bruised flies to cure the sting of a hornet!

"But in spite of this," she continued, "he is still flat on his back,

groaning with aches and pains. So, to-morrow, Jacob and I start at

sunrise with the bullock cart, and no doubt there will be room among the

baskets of grapes for Naomi, if thou wilt permit her to go."

Naomi, at her father's elbow, glanced imploringly into his face, but she

did not speak a word. Her mother, from the end of the bench, smiled

hopefully at the little girl, but she, too, waited in deferent silence

until, to Naomi's great relief, her father gave a nod of consent.

"It is kind of thee, sister Miriam," said he, putting his arm about

Naomi and drawing her to his side, "to think of giving our little

daughter this pleasure."

"Naomi must be good and obedient and not make herself troublesome in any

way," said her mother warningly, leaning forward to pull Naomi's little

robe straight. "Thy aunt will be occupied with her business, Naomi, and

thou must be as quiet as a mouse so that she will not regret that thou

art with her."

"Never fear that," said Aunt Miriam heartily, "Naomi is as dear to me as

my own. I shall not be so busy that she will have to play mouse all day.

She shall see something of the city, and eat a good dinner at the house

of Simon's sister Anna, and make friends, perhaps, with Anna's little

Martha who is just her age."

"I will be quiet," promised Naomi, her face bright with smiles. "I will

be good. I will not speak a word nor stir all day long."

"Great are thy promises, Naomi," answered Aunt Miriam, rising to go and

laying a kindly hand upon the curly head of her niece. "I will give thee

a hot breakfast at the khan to stay thee on thy journey, so be not late.

We start at sunrise!"

"Oh, Father," cried Naomi, throwing her arms about her father's neck,

"how good I mean to be always after this! Dost think I shall see the

Temple? And, Mother, which am I to wear--my new blue robe or my yellow

and red striped one? I am really to go to Jerusalem! Oh, what will Ezra

say when he hears the good news I have to tell!"

The next morning at daybreak, when the purple shadows lay heavily in the

east and the sky was still gray overhead, Naomi, wearing a gay little

cloak of scarlet over her best blue robe, ran hastily down the stony

road that led to the Bethlehem khan.

The drowsy gate-keeper had already unlocked the heavy town gates, for

day begins early in hot countries, and at sight of Naomi, whom he knew

well, he uttered a sleepy "Peace be with thee!" as a morning greeting.

"With thee be peace!" piped Naomi in return. "Oh, Nathan, I go to-day

to Jerusalem with my Aunt Miriam. This very day I go!"

Old Nathan nodded his head solemnly and muttered in his beard.

"Beautiful for situation, the joy of the whole earth is Mount Zion,"

responded the pious old Jew. But Naomi was half-way down the hill and

did not hear one word.

There before her at the crossroads stood the old khan, with its great

wall of stone and its stout gate behind which all night long sat a

watchman on the alert. Below the inn lay the very fields among which

Ruth, long, long ago, had gleaned the golden corn, and where later King

David as a shepherd lad had tended his flock.

Naomi slipped through the open gate into the courtyard of the khan and

stood for a moment watching the bustle and confusion of the scene

before her. In the center of the court was the fountain, and round it

now crowded the pilgrims and travelers, drawing water for the morning

meal or in which to wash before eating. The archways which lined the

wall formed the rooms of the ancient inn, for the building at the end of

the court in which Simon the host and Aunt Miriam lived was not open to

strangers. Shelter and food were not provided within. Each man in his

little archway must spread his own carpet, light his own brazier, cook

his own food, and eat from his own dish. A Syrian khan of that period

was not at all like the inns of our day. It was expected to supply

nothing but water and straw for a bed. It was a refuge from thieves and

wild animals, a shelter from heat and dust, a spot where a trader might

sell his wares.

Naomi looked with interest at the patient camels already kneeling to

receive their load, perhaps of precious ointment or sweet spices. Here

were the merchants spreading their wares: gold work from Cairo; shawls

of Tyrian dye, royal purple or scarlet; rich perfumes in their vases of

alabaster, large and small. In one corner a group of dogs, snapping and

snarling, quarreled over a bone.

A caravan was starting for Egypt, and as the Bethlehem khan was the

first night's rest after leaving Zion, many friends of the travelers had

come with them from Jerusalem and were now sorrowfully saying their last

farewells. Naomi stood watching an old father tenderly kiss his

departing son upon either cheek and then lay his hand upon the boy's

head in blessing. A little lad, carrying his pet monkey, was lifted to

the back of a camel, and Naomi was staring so intently that she did not

see the serving-lad Jacob until he was close upon her.

"Thy aunt calls for thee," said he to Naomi. "The cart stands ready

loaded and we start as soon as thou hast eaten."

"I would that we were going down into Egypt, Jacob," said Naomi,

skipping toward the house as she spoke. "To ride to Jerusalem is

nothing. We shall be back to-morrow in this very spot."

"Aye, if the robbers do not catch us," answered Jacob, wagging his head

wisely. It was the first time he had been trusted to ride to Jerusalem

with a load, and the responsibility weighed heavily upon him.

"Robbers? Aunt Miriam, will there be robbers on the way to-day, think

you?"

Aunt Miriam paused in her brisk stepping about the room.

"Here is a bowl of hot pottage and a warm cake for thee, Naomi. Eat all

of it," she commanded. "And talk not to me of robbers. In truth, there

are as many robbers in the khan at Bethlehem as upon the length of

Jerusalem highway. The caravan to Egypt will pay for straw for six

camels and ten mules, will they, when I myself counted no less than

twenty animals in their train? Jacob, bring hither the leader of the

caravan that I may talk with him. Robbers, indeed! Robbers!"

Aunt Miriam's red cheeks and flashing eyes boded ill for the leader of

the caravan for Egypt.

Naomi ate her lentil pottage and munched her cake leisurely in a quiet

corner, but she had long finished her meal when Aunt Miriam was at last

satisfied and ready to start.

The bullock cart stood loaded with baskets piled high with great bunches

of purple grapes. Over them were spread the dewy green leaves of the

vine to protect the fruit from the sun and to keep it fresh and moist.

Aunt Miriam, with a sigh of relief, settled herself in place in the

front of the cart. Naomi was tucked into a comfortable corner between

two great brown baskets of woven rushes. Jacob, standing at the cattle's

head, cracked his long whip, the animals strained forward, the cart

wheels creaked and turned, and they were off for Jerusalem.

Christmas Light · 第 2 / 8 章