understood them entirely, and whispered:

"Peace be to you!"

Golda stood with her arms crossed on her bosom, looking on Meir as
pious people look on a holy image. Having heard the words of peace
from her grandfather's lips, she pushed toward Meir one of two
chairs, took as mall, shining pitcher and went into the hall.

Meir sat near the old man who was again busy with his work and
whispered something. After a while this whispering became louder
until it changed into a hoarse and trembling narrative. It seemed
that was his habit. He had plenty of stories in his head and heart,
and with them he brightened his miserable life.

Meir could not hear the first whispers, and only understood their
meaning when the old man began to speak louder:

"On the shores of Babylon they sat weeping, and the wind moaned in
their lutes, brought by them from their country, and in sadness they
hung them on the trees."

"And their masters came to them, and said: 'Take to your hands your
harps; play, and sing!' And they answered: 'How can we play and sing
in the land of exile, when our tongues are dried with great
bitterness and our hearts only know how to cry! Palestine!
Palestine!' But unto them their masters said: 'Take from the trees
your harps. Play and sing!'"

"Then Israel's prophets looked at one another and said: 'Who of us is
sure? Who will stand torture that we may not be made to play and sing
in the land of exile!'"

"And when their masters came to them the next day and said: 'Take
from the trees your harps; play and sing!' the prophets of Israel
raised their bloody hands and exclaimed: 'How can we take them, when
our hands are cut in two, and we have no fingers!'"

"The rivers of Babylon rustled aloud with great amazement and the
wind cried in the harps hanging on the trees, because the prophets of
Israel had cut their hands in two rather than be forced to sing in
the land of exile."

When Abel finished the last words of the old legend, Golda entered
the room. In one hand she held a tray made of straw, on which there
were two earthen cups. In the other hand she held a shining pitcher
filled with milk. In the door, which remained open behind her,
appeared the goat, whose whiteness stood out against the blackness of
the hall. The girl was dressed in a faded skirt, and her long black
tresses were thrown over the shoulders of the gray shirt which she
wore. She poured the milk into the cups and handed it to the guest
and