the ordinary Jewish girl. Her father was proud of his bright, lovable little daughter and had made her his special pet. Her mother, who had been well taught by her own mother, a "wise woman" of her day, was careful that Naomi seldom missed the daily lesson that kept the little girl, to her great delight, only a short way behind Ezra on the hard road of knowledge.

So Ezra, though he felt his superiority as a boy and the first-born of his family, could not long resist Naomi's pleading glance nor the pressure of her little brown hand.

"What wilt thou give me if I do not tell?" asked Ezra, not wishing to seem to relent too quickly.

"The first bright shekel I find in the highway," answered Naomi saucily.

She was smiling now, and her hand was gently stroking the little lamb's nose.

"What lamb is this, Ezra?" she asked. "And why hast thou brought it home? It seems sleepy, poor little creature. Look, its eyes are half shut."

"It is one of the Temple flock," answered Ezra, looking down at the quiet little animal in his arms. "But it has a blemish. It runs on three legs, and it does not see very well. They will not keep it in the flock—it is not fit for Temple use—and shepherd Eli gave it to me this afternoon for my own. I helped him find an old ewe that had caught her foot between two stones, and when I was leaving he gave me the lamb."

By the "Temple flock" Ezra meant the sheep that were destined to be used as sacrifices in the great Temple at Jerusalem, and which were encamped all the year round on the hills outside the city. The shepherds of the flock were friendly to the boy, who declared he meant when a man to be a Temple shepherd himself. Ezra spent most of his spare time with them, helping them in their work and listening with delight to their thrilling stories of encounters with wolves and jackals. Many of the shepherds were friends of his father, for both were connected with the Temple, since Samuel the weaver spent his days, in common with a number of others in Bethlehem, in making the gorgeous curtains and veils that were used in the sacred building.

"Stand up, Three Legs," said Ezra, putting his lamb on the ground and showing Naomi its pitifully shrunken limb. In naming it "Three Legs" Ezra was following the custom of the shepherds who called their charges by any peculiarity they might possess, such as "Black Ear" or "Long Tail." "I mean to make a little wagon and teach Three Legs to draw it. And if he is not able to do that, I shall sell him for whatever I can get."

"Oh, no, Ezra," said Naomi whose tender heart was touched by the forlorn little animal. "He is sick, he is not able to draw a wagon. Give him to me and let me take care of him."

Ezra shook his head.

"I will sell him first," said he with determination. "I will not give him away."

"Sell him to me!" cried Naomi; "sell him to me!"

The lamb had toppled over in a little heap and was looking patiently and with half-closed eyes into Naomi's face bent above him. It seemed to the little girl that she would gladly give her dearest possession if she might have the lamb for her own to nurse and care for.

"Sell him to me, Ezra. I will give thee anything thou mayst ask."

"What hast thou to give?" asked Ezra shrewdly. He felt sure the lamb could never draw a wagon, and the prospect of selling a sick animal was small.

"Anything thou mayst ask," was Naomi's reckless answer. The lamb had put out a limp pink tongue and was licking her fingers.

"Thy poppies?"

Ezra had heard his aunt say that very day, "I need poppies sorely for my brew for the palsy, and not a single one has bloomed in the khan garden this year."

Surely four poppies would be worth a rich cake or two, or perhaps even a piece of money.

"My poppies?" Naomi looked aghast. "My poppies? All four? Why, there is just one apiece! Father and Mother, thou and Jonas! My poppies?"

The lamb stirred and with a little sigh of content snuggled his nose into the palm of Naomi's hand.

"Take them!" Naomi stood up and gathered the lamb in her arms. "Take them, only let me not see thee."

She turned her back upon Ezra and shut her eyes.

Quickly he gathered the flowers and ran out of the garden.

Naomi opened her eyes. She gave one look at her despoiled flower-bed and bent again over the lamb.

"I am glad, Three Legs," said she warmly. "Thou art much better than many poppies, thou poor little creature, and I am glad I did it. I am glad!"

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