here cometh one after me whose shoe latchet I am not worthy to
unloose.' And as he did declare, so hath that mightier appeared--aye,
the hope of Israel. Not a Nazarene is he. Came he both eating and
drinking and loving womankind, and lo! of him they say 'a wine bibber
and a glutton.' But, daughters, wisdom be justified of her children.
Lo, he that hath been promised to restore again the glory of Israel is
even now in the City of our God!"

"Strange words thou speakest," said Huldah.

"Thou dost not speak of Jesus of Nazareth?" Mary asked.

"Even of him," the aged woman answered.

"Art thou of his acquaintance?" Debora asked with interest.

"Even more, for was not the mother of her who bare Jesus even the
sister of my father?"

"Thy kinsman he is? Thou hast looked upon his face and heard the
wondrous voice that doth drive away fever?"

"Yea, have I seen and heard, both the son and his mother and father,
for twice did I visit under the roof of my cousin."

"His mother--what of her? Is she skilled in savoring rich sop?" Martha
asked.

"She hath not possessed the wherewithal to make rich sop, yet in her
veins runneth the blood of kings. Of the house of David hath she come."

"And where hath she been in hiding, this royal-blooded Jewess?" Huldah
asked.

"In the rude home of a Galilean peasant, for poverty hath been her lot.
Yea, in the stone feed-trough of a cattle shed was Jesus born because
his father had not the price of keep at the inn. A little lad at
Nazareth was he when I first saw him."

"A little lad," Mary repeated. "What manner of little lad was he?"

"Beside his mother's knee he heard stories of the brave and mighty of
Israel. He walked with his mother by the sea and in the fields. He
loved the fowls of the air, the hares and the foxes. And such
questions did he ask as no man hath wisdom to answer. While his mother
toiled he played with the children of the village. When they played
funeral right vigorously would he weep with the mourners. When they
played wedding with those who piped, piped he, and with those who
danced, danced he until his small garments, like wings, flew apace.
Mild was he and obedient, yet when his hand was lifted in wrath it did
strike hard. Once he did fight. Aye, and a good fight it was and over
the wall did he send with the speed of a wild ass and fierce blows, a
lad twice his size. His mother did bind his black eye in a fig leaf
poultice and tell him figh