SECOND WOMAN. God help us, indeed! And when the woman that was
lying on the stalks of flax heard my story, it is what she did: she took
a flock of the husks of the flax that were on the floor, and said to me:
'Lay that,' she said, 'on the place the pain is, and it will cure him.'
Out with me as quick as I could, and the husks in my hand, the same as
they are now. My husband was on the point of death at that time; but, as
sure as I am alive, when I put the husks on him, the pain went away, and
he was as well as ever he was.

FIRST WOMAN. That is a great story!

SECOND WOMAN. And when I ran out again to bring the woman in
with me, she was gone; and I heard a voice, as I thought, saying these
two lines:--

'A meek woman and a rough man;
The Son of God lying in husks.'

FIRST WOMAN. You heard that said?

SECOND WOMAN. There was grief and shame on me then, letting her
from me like that, without giving her thanks, or anything at all; and I
followed her on the morrow, for I said to myself that she was blessed. I
heard she was gone to Bethlehem; and I followed her to this stable; for
I thought I could be helpful to her, and she in that state. They told me
she was not in the inn; and that there was no place at all for her to
get, till she came to this stable.

FIRST WOMAN. Is not that wonderful? You said the truth when
you said it was a blessed woman that was in it.

SECOND WOMAN. How do you know that?

FIRST WOMAN. Because she did a great marvel under my own eyes.
My sorrow and my bitter grief! I did a thing seven times worse than what
you did. It was fear before your husband was on you when you refused her
the night's lodging; but the hardness and the misery in my own heart
made me refuse her fruit she asked of me. She herself and the man that
was with her were going by; and the day came close on her and hot, and
there was a large tree of cherries in my garden. She looked up then, and
she took a longing for them. 'O right woman!' she said; 'there is a
desire come on me to have a few of your cherries; maybe you will give me
a share of them.' 'I will not give them,' said I, 'to any stranger at
all travelling the road like yourself.' 'Give them to me, if it is your
will,' says she, quiet, and nice, and gentle, 'for I am not far from the
birth of my child; and I have a great longing for them.'

I don't know what was the bad thing was in my heart; but I refused her
again. No sooner was the word out of my mouth th