mine once lost three
hundred sheep by a mistake in this hard task.

"Then there are snake holes in some kinds of ground, and, if they
be not driven away, the snakes bite the noses of the sheep. The
shepherd sometimes burns the fat of hogs along the ground to do
this. Sometimes the shepherd finds ground where moles have worked
their holes just under the surface. Snakes lie in these holes with
their heads sticking up ready to bite the grazing sheep. The
shepherds know how to drive them away as they go along ahead of the
sheep.

"And around the feeding-ground which the shepherd thus prepares, in
holes and caves in the hillsides there are jackals, wolves, hyenas,
and panthers, too, and the bravery and skill of the shepherd are at
the highest point in closing up these dens with stones or slaying
the wild beasts with his long-bladed knife. Of nothing do you hear
shepherds boasting more proudly than of their achievements in this
part of their care of flocks.

"And now," he exclaimed with a beaming countenance and suppressed
feeling, as if pleading for recognition of the lone shepherd's
bravest act of devotion to his sheep, "and now do you not see the
shepherd figure in that quaint line, '_Thou preparest a table
before me in the presence of mine enemies_'?"

"Yes," I answered; "and I see that God's care of a man out in the
world is a grander thought than that of seating him at an indoor
banquet-table."

"But what about anointing the head with oil and the cup running
over? Go on, my friend."

"Oh, there begins the beautiful picture at the end of the day. The
psalm has sung of the whole round of the day's wandering, all the
needs of the sheep, all the care of the shepherd. Now the psalm
closes with the last scene of the day. At the door, of the
sheepfold the shepherd stands and 'the rodding of the sheep' takes
place. The shepherd stands, turning his body to let the sheep
pass; he is the door, as Christ said of himself. With his rod he
holds back the sheep while he inspects them one by, one as they
pass into the fold. He has the horn filled with olive-oil and he
has cedar-tar, and he anoints a knee bruised on the rocks or a side
scratched by thorns. And here comes one that is not bruised but is
simply worn and exhausted; he bathes its face and head with the
refreshing olive-oil and he takes the large two-handled cup and
dips it brimming full from the vessel of water provided for that
purpose, and he lets the