rch, and fancied him looking for the omens
of evil which his master despised in the entrails of a chicken.
From that picture turn to Elijah sitting on the hill-top on the
way to Samaria, amid the smoking bodies of the captains and their
fifties, warning the son of Ahab of the wrath of our God. Finally,
O my Judah--if such speech be reverent--how shall we judge Jehovah
and Jupiter unless it be by what their servants have done in their
names? And as for what you shall do--"
She spoke the latter words slowly, and with a tremulous utterance.
"As for what you shall do, my boy--serve the Lord, the Lord God of
Israel, not Rome. For a child of Abraham there is no glory except
in the Lord's ways, and in them there is much glory."
"I may be a soldier then?" Judah asked.
"Why not? Did not Moses call God a man of war?"
There was then a long silence in the summer chamber.
"You have my permission," she said, finally; "if only you serve
the Lord instead of Caesar."
He was content with the condition, and by-and-by fell asleep. She
arose then, and put the cushion under his head, and, throwing a
shawl over him and kissing him tenderly, went away.
CHAPTER VI
The good man, like the bad, must die; but, remembering the lesson
of our faith, we say of him and the event, "No matter, he will
open his eyes in heaven." Nearest this in life is the waking
from healthful sleep to a quick consciousness of happy sights
and sounds.
When Judah awoke, the sun was up over the mountains; the pigeons
were abroad in flocks, filling the air with the gleams of their
white wings; and off southeast he beheld the Temple, an apparition
of gold in the blue of the sky. These, however, were familiar
objects, and they received but a glance; upon the edge of the
divan, close by him, a girl scarcely fifteen sat singing to
the accompaniment of a nebel, which she rested upon her knee,
and touched gracefully. To her he turned listening; and this
was what she sang:
THE SONG.
"Wake not, but hear me, love!
Adrift, adrift on slumber's sea,
Thy spirit call to list to me.
Wake not, but hear me, love!
A gift from Sleep, the restful king,
All happy, happy dreams I bring.
"Wake not, but hear me, love!
Of all the world of dreams 'tis thine
This once to choose the most divine.
So choose, and sleep, my love!
But ne'er again in choice be free,
Unless, unless--thou dream'st of me."
She put the inst
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