Chapter 4

women had ground. It was hard work turning the handles that pressed the meal between the upper and nether millstones, and the women worked wearily.

"How slow they are!" said Naomi scornfully. "I could work much faster than they, could I not, Aunt Miriam? Could I not grind fast if I tried?"

Naomi's aunt did not answer. With a gentle hand she pushed the little girl back against the wall.

"Stand there, thou chattering sparrow," said she with a smile, "and hold thy peace. Here comes one Solomon the goldbeater, thy Uncle Simon's friend. The load of grapes was brought here at his order, and it is my task to-day to see that he offers a fair price for them. Peace!"

It seemed a long time to Naomi that Solomon the goldbeater and Jacob the serving-lad, standing at a little distance from the wall, haggled over the load of grapes. But at last Jacob came to report to his mistress the sum offered, and since she was satisfied the bargain was soon made.

Then up they went through the narrow dingy streets with their overhanging houses that made a pleasant shade, past the quarters of the tinsmiths and the jewelers, the tailors and the sandal-makers. Naomi looked eagerly in at the gay bazaars piled high with fine linens and embroideries, rich scarves and veils, spices and coffee, dried fruits and nuts. On they went, past the street of the potters where anything might be bought, from water-jars as tall as Naomi herself to the tiny cup-shaped Virgin's lamps which, filled with sweet oil, were carried by the Jewish girls.

"Look well about thee, child," instructed Aunt Miriam from behind her veil. "We shall not come this way again."

"I can tell it all now to Ezra," answered Naomi confidently. "I have not forgotten a single sight. So far I liked it best of all when the great Pharisee gave alms to the poor in the market-place just now, when we were waiting there for Jacob. I liked it when his servant blew upon the trumpet, and the poor came hurrying, and every one turned to look. And next best I liked the cages of sparrows for sale. We have them in the market-place at home, but not so many nor so fat. And next--"

"And next," interrupted her aunt with a smile, "thou wouldst like thy dinner, perhaps. Here is the home of Simon's sister Anna, and verily I believe her little Martha is watching for us through the wicket in the gate."

Little Martha, with the help of the porter, threw open the gate before Aunt Miriam could say another word, and Naomi stepped through a passageway under the house into a courtyard with a tiny fountain playing in the center and a palm growing on either side of it.

Little Martha was as fair as Naomi was dark. She had light reddish hair and blue eyes, and well pleased was her mother that it should be so, for this was called "King David's coloring" and was supposed to have been that of the great King himself. She wore a soft little robe of white and a fine gold chain about her neck. She joyfully led the visitors to her mother who was waiting for them at the end of the court.

"Come in, thou blessed of the Lord," was the gracious greeting Anna gave them, and she ushered them up the stairs and into a room that actually had two windows cut in the side. They were the first windows Naomi had ever looked from, and she held tight to the sill for fear of falling into the street below.

"I would that I had windows in my house," thought Naomi ruefully. "I would be so proud if I were Martha. But then she has no brother Ezra nor baby Jonas to play with her."

In spite of the windows little Martha did not seem at all proud. She helped her mother bring bowls of water for the guests to wash in, and when the meal was ready she patted the plump cushions into shape on the divans placed before the gayly painted table.

"Sit by me," she whispered to Naomi, breaking off a neat three-cornered piece of barley cake which was to serve Naomi as knife and fork and spoon.

For dinner there was a dish of young kid stewed with olives, hot barley cakes, fresh and dried fruit--apricots, figs, pomegranates--and a bowl of amber honey.

Not an easy thing is it to serve one's self with neatness and dispatch without knife or fork, and only one's fingers and a bit of bread to rely upon. But Naomi and Martha were able to dip their food from the common dish with a bit of barley cake quite as nicely as the grown people did, and they sat quiet and respectful while Aunt Miriam told of Simon's illness and the reason for this trip to Jerusalem.

When the meal was over, Martha ran for fresh bowls of water, for the Jews were careful to wash both before and after eating, and as Naomi dabbled her fingers daintily Martha whispered to her:

"Mother says we are all to go about the twelfth hour, in the cool of the day, to show thee the Temple and to see King Herod's garden. Oh! Oh!"

And she squeezed her new friend's arm with such fervor that the pretty bowl was barely saved from falling to the floor.

Later in the day when the first evening breezes were drifting down the dark ravines that swept round the city, the little party of sight-seers slowly climbed the steep lanes that led toward Mount Moriah on which the Temple stood. Built of white marble and glittering with gold, it dazzled the eyes of little village-bred Naomi and made her heart thrill as she gazed up the flights of steps at the very House of God.

It was a flat-roofed, oblong building, this Temple of the Hebrews, divided within by a curtain of the finest work into two great rooms, the Holy of Holies and the Holy Place.

The Holy of Holies was the dwelling-place of the Most High, never to be trodden, never to be seen, except upon the rarest occasions, by mortal man. It was now bare and empty, since the loss years before, in the war with Babylon, of the Ark with its Mercy Seat and two golden cherubim.

In the outer chamber, the Holy Place, lying to the east, stood the golden candlestick bearing seven lamps, the golden table of shew bread with its twelve loaves arranged in two rows, and the golden Altar of Incense, having thirteen spices burning night and day to signify that all the produce of the earth belongs to God. In the huge doorway of this room, where only the priests might enter, and facing the sunrise, hung a second curtain or veil of fine linen richly embroidered in blue and scarlet, purple and flax. These colors were meant to be an image of the world. The scarlet represented fire, the flax earth, the blue sky, and the purple sea. Along the wall ran golden vines and clusters of the grape, the typical plant of Israel.

All this Naomi could picture perfectly so often had she heard it described, but she saw it with the eye of her mind only, for the women of Israel had a court set apart for them many flights below the Temple building itself and at the east of the men's Court of the Israelites, as it was called.

Martha stood at the little girl's elbow, gazing about, too, but not with the same eager interest that Naomi showed, since a visit to the Temple was no great rarity to her.

"Thou shouldst see the Temple at Passover, Naomi," she murmured; "the crowds of people, and the priests at sunrise upon the walls blowing a thousand silver trumpets, and the long procession in the streets carrying the lambs for the offering."

"Father hath promised to bring us all next Passover," Naomi answered happily. "But now I long mightily to see the great Altar of Burnt Offering in the Court of the Priests. It is made of unhewn stone, Ezra says, and there, too, stands the bronze basin where the priests wash hands and feet before entering the Holy Place. Ezra has learned all about it at school. I long to see it."

Little Martha shook her head.

"Nay," she murmured reprovingly, "that is not a sight for me and thee. I have seen the smoke rising--that is all."

Naomi stared up at the great group of buildings--courts, halls, cloisters, terraces, and walls, topped by the splendid golden front of the Holy Place, in silent awe.

"If once I should lose sight of Aunt Miriam," she thought, "I might wander about here for days and days and never find her again."

And she took such a firm hold upon her aunt's cloak that she, feeling the tug, thought the little girl was impatient to move on.

"Yes, child, yes," said she. "We go down now into the Court of the Gentiles. Do thou and little Martha walk on ahead. Pick thy way carefully, for this flight of steps is steep."

The Court of the Gentiles was open to the men of all nations, since it was not strictly a part of the Temple. It was a sort of sacred market-place, and Naomi and little Martha, as they walked about, held tight to one another when they passed the pens of sheep and oxen destined to be burnt offerings, and which were restlessly shouldering one another and lowing and bleating as if in some way they sensed their approaching doom. Here the seller of doves and pigeons kept his cotes, for many a worshiper could not afford to buy a kid or a lamb. Here, too, were the booths and stalls of the moneychangers who did a brisk trade, since no coin might be offered in the Temple save the sacred shekel.

"Art thou ready at last to leave the Temple, child?" asked Aunt Miriam, coming up behind Naomi as she stood gazing in at a penful of young lambs. "Wilt thou be able to tell all this to Ezra, think you?"

Naomi nodded slowly. She was not listening to what her aunt said. She was wondering why at times the sheep looked so strangely blurred, and why little black specks seemed to dance before her eyes.

"Over there is a little lamb that looks like my Three Legs, Aunt Miriam," said she. "I am glad he is not here, shut up in one of these great pens, and to die, perhaps, before another day."

She moved listlessly along, and when her aunt took her hand she clung to her so heavily that good Aunt Miriam stopped short on the side of the hill.

"What ails thee, child?" said she, bending over Naomi. "Thou art not like thyself. Thine eyes look strangely heavy, even like those of little Three Legs. Art thou ill?"

"Nay," said Naomi crossly. Surely to have sudden pains shoot through one's eyes was not to be ill. "I would see the gardens of King Herod. That is what I want."

"The child is weary," said little Martha's mother kindly. "She has had a long journey to-day besides this visit to the Temple. The gardens of King Herod will wait for thee, Naomi, until another time when thou art rested. They will not run away."

But Naomi would not smile at this little joke. She pulled pettishly away when good friend Anna placed her hand upon her forehead to see if she were feverish.

"I would see the gardens of King Herod," she repeated plaintively, rubbing her eyes as she spoke. "Ezra saw them, with rivers and flowers and fountains. He saw doves and pigeons flying through the air. He saw a great beast that spouted water from its mouth, and I would fain see it, too."

The magnificent gardens of the King of Judea were open all day long to any one who wished to enter and enjoy their beauty, their coolness, and their shade. Canals flowed between green banks, flowers bloomed and trees rustled, fountains played in the sunlight, and tiny fish darted hither and thither in the artificial pools. But there, too, bright against the green, was to be seen the white marble of statues--nymphs, and dryads, figures symbolizing grace and beauty--and for this reason, since to him all statues were idols, no Jew would set foot within King Herod's garden.

All that Naomi could hope to do, beside gazing at the three famous castles of white marble, with their battlements and turrets, built by Herod the Great, and at his own splendid palace with its massive walls and towers, was to peep at the garden through the open gateways or perhaps from the top of the wall, as Ezra had done.

But Aunt Miriam, with sturdy common sense, had no intention of taking the weary and ailing little girl on the long trip across Cheesemonger's Valley from the Mount of the Temple to Mount Zion where the palaces stood. She beckoned to Jacob who had walked near them all the way, and when he came forward she said:

"Carry the little maid home, Jacob. She is exceedingly weary and needs a night's rest."

Naomi, without a protest, turned to Jacob and gladly hid her heavy, aching eyes upon his broad shoulder.

"I am like Three Legs," thought Naomi, as the procession moved homeward. "But then Three Legs has been sick a long, long time, and I shall be well in the morning."