s, and you bring us still
more. Copy your sister; she has chosen the better part--spiritual food
instead of bodily."

So Martha sat down, and she too watched His mouth, but less for the
sake of what He said than to see how He liked the food. He observed
this, and said with a smile, "Everyone is kind in his own way." And He
continued to reveal in attractive fashion the secrets of the Kingdom of
Heaven. But Martha always interrupted Him with remarks on the dishes,
or with orders to the servants, until Jesus became almost annoyed, and
said sharply: "Know you not that I will give you food? The soul is the
one thing needful."

Then they also spoke of the day's proceedings, and Amon congratulated
Him prettily on the great victory at Jerusalem.

"Do you call that a victory?" asked Jesus. "Amon, do you know men so
little? They see in Me the Messiah King who will conquer the Empire
to-morrow. They, blind creatures, they have no idea of _My_ Kingdom.
They are pleased with words that destroy, they do not want to hear
words that build up. It's an empty-headed people that can only be
roused by need and oppression. But they will be aroused."

After dinner He lay down on cushions, the softest that Martha could
find in the house. Young John's curly head lay on His breast, Magdalen
sat at His feet. Peter lay near by on a carpet; a little farther off
sat Amon in his wheeled chair, with Martha stroking his white hair.
John was particularly happy to-day. He had never seen the Master so
calm and gentle. Yet something depressed the disciple. At the above
remark about the people he observed: "Master, if they knew how deeply
you loved them."

"They ought to know it."

"But they cannot know it from the way in which you speak to them."

"The way in which I speak to them?" said Jesus, and stroked the
disciple's soft hair. "That is just My John all over. He cannot
understand that you do not stroke buffaloes with peacocks' feathers.
I'm too hard on these hypocrites, these obdurate, indifferent men, am
I? When I disappoint those who would extract daily profit from Me in
the form of miracles, when I lay bare the carefully-concealed thoughts
of their hearts, then I am hard. And when I shatter their childish
love of the world, their craving for vanities, then I am hard. And
when they strut about with their condemnations and their
hard-heartedness, trampling the weak underfoot out of greed and malice,
haughty as the heathens