All day the wildering revels run; and Heaven-folk tell it

That since that day, at twilight's pause, ere nightingales begin, The vale to tinkling laughter thrills, and lone cliffs swell it, And glass pools crinkle into smiles where yet no wind has been.

But comes at last a sound of bells; and Heavenward slowly He leads them till the Children's Gate shines near at hand, and then

Waves them farewell; but watching stands, as Hometown wholly Gathers them in: then turns to earth, and Death is Death

again.

B

IN THE STREETS

LOUIS UNTERMEYER

OY, my boy, it is lonely in the city,

Days that have no pity and the nights without a tear Follow all too slowly and I can no more dissemble,

I am frightened and I tremble-and I would that you were here.

O boy-God keep you!

Boy, my boy, I had sworn to weep no longer,

Time I thought was stronger than the whispers long gone by, The ardent looks, the eager words, the little love and hurried— But they all come back unburied and not one of them will die. O boy-God save you!

Boy, my boy-you were glad with youth and power,

Your joy was like a flower that you wore upon your sleeve; And wherever you may go there'll be a girl with eyes that glisten, A girl to wait and listen—and a girl for you to leave. O boy-God help her!

I'

THE MIRACLE OF THE STIGMATA

FRANK HARRIS

T was after the troubles in Jerusalem that a man called
Joshua, a carpenter and smith, came to Cæsarea. Almost

before the neighbors were aware of it, he had settled down in a little hut opposite the house of Simon the image-maker, and was working quietly at his trade. He was a Jew, to all appearance: a middle-aged Jew, with features sharpened by suffering, or possibly by illness, and yet in many ways he was not like a Jew; he never went near a synagogue, he never argued about religion or anything else, and he took whatever people gave him for his work without bargaining.

To his loud, high-colored, grasping compatriots he seemed to be rather a poor creature; but a certain liking softened their contempt of him, for his shrinking humility flattered their vanity and disposed them in his favor. And yet, now and then, when they talked with most assurance and he lifted his eyes to them, they grew a little uneasy: his look was more one of pity than of approval. He was a queer fellow, they decided, and not easy to understand; but, as he was peculiarly retiring and silent, the less agreeable impression wore away, and they finally took the view of him that was most pleasing to themselves, and regarded him as unimportant.

Joshua seemed to accept their indifference with humble gratitude. He hardly ever left his room, and made no friends, except Simon, who modelled in clay and wax the little figures of the Phoenician gods. Simon had the name of a rich man and he was very clever; he used to paint some of his wax gods with rosy cheeks, black hair and gilded lips till they looked alive, and their robes were green and purple and saffron with dark shadows in the folds so that they seemed to move. Simon took a great liking to Joshua from the beginning, and did his best to break down his reserve and make an intimate of him. But even Simon had to content himself with moderate success. Joshua was always sympathetic, and would listen to him for hours at a time; but

he spoke very little, and never about himself. Simon, however, used to maintain that Joshua's silence was more stimulating than the speech of other men.

Simon's wife, Tabitha, did not take to Joshua at first; she never felt at ease with him, she said, and his great eyes made her flesh creep. But, as she got to know him, she could not help seeing his industry and his love of home and a quiet life, and, in a month or so, she sent to Joppa for her sister's daughter, Judith, who was twenty-five years old, and still unmarried. It was poverty, Tabitha knew, and not choice that had kept Judith single. The very first night after the girl reached Cæsarea the two had a long talk, and Judith drank in all her aunt had to tell of Joshua and his peculiarities, and accepted the cunning advice of the older woman with complete submission.

"The girl is no fool," Tabitha said to herself, and began to take a liking to her pupil; while Judith felt that Tabitha was really clever in managing men, or how could she have contrived to keep her husband's affection, in spite of her age and barrenness, a thing which seemed to the girl wonderful? Tabitha's advice to Judith was not to hold off and thus to excite Joshua's desire; but to show him that she liked him.

"He has been disappointed in life," Tabitha said, “I'm sure, and wants comforting. Besides, he's soft and affectionate by nature, like a girl: he will be grateful to you for loving him. Trust me, I know the kind of man: there was Jonas when I was young; I might have had him ten times over, if I had wanted to; and James as well, the rich tanner of Joppa who married the Levite's daughter. You take my advice, Judith, make up to him, and you'll get him. Joshua has a lot of the woman in him or I'm a fool."

Tabitha turned out to be right, though Judith did not succeed as quickly as they had expected, for it was hard to persuade Joshua that he was loved by anyone.

"I am old," he said, "and broken, and my house is empty of hope."

But the women were patient, and, one afternoon, Simon put in a warm word for Judith, and a little later the wedding took place.

The marriage was not unhappy; indeed, the union of the two seemed to grow intimate as time went on, and nothing occurred to trouble the peace of the household, except the fact that the marriage of Judith, too, was barren, like the marriage of Tabitha. Now and again, Judith took this to heart and blamed her husband, but her anger never lasted very long. Joshua had a way of doing kind little things, even while he was being scolded, which was hard to resist. Still Judith always felt she would have thought more of him if he had turned on her and mastered her, as she had seen her father master her mother.

In the third year of the marriage, one Philip, a deacon, came from Jerusalem, and created a good deal of excitement and curiosity in the Jewish community. He talked of miracles and a Messiah; but no one believed much in him. And, as soon as he had left the town, the effect of his words disappeared, as hot vapor disappears in air. A little later, another wandering preacher, called Peter, came to Cæsarea, and with his coming the new doctrine began to be understood. Peter taught that one Jesus had been born in Bethlehem from the seed of David, and that He was the Messiah foretold by the prophets. But when it became known that this supposed Messiah had been crucified at Jerusalem as a sedition-monger, the more devout among the Jews grew indignant, and Peter often found it difficult to get a hearing. Still, he was a man of such passionate conviction that his teaching lent the subject an interest which, strangely enough, did not die out or even greatly diminish after he had gone away. From time to time, too, curiosity was excited anew by all sorts of rumors; so that, when it was told about that another apostle, Paul, had landed at Cæsarea and was going to speak, the Jews ran together to hear him.

Judith had heard the news at Tabitha's. As soon as she had made arrangements to go to the place of meeting, she hurried across to her own house to dress and to tell Joshua. Joshua listened to her patiently as usual, but with a troubled brow, and when his wife told him to get ready to accompany them, to her amazement he said that he could not go, and, when she pressed him and insisted, he shook his head. In the years they had lived together, he had hardly refused her anything,