“Day followed day, like any childhood passing; And silently Mary sat at her wheel
And watched the boy Messiah as she span;
And as a human child unto his mother,
Subject the while, He did her low-voiced bidding—
Or gently came to lean upon her knee
And ask her of the thoughts that in him stirred.
“And then, all tearful-hearted, she paused,
Or with tremulous hand spun on—
The blessing that her lips instructive gave,
Asked Him with an instant thought again:”
 
“Mother, I’ve another volume of that charming story, full of wonderful things. Shall we peruse them to please our woman’s curiosity, to-night?”
 
“Woman’s curiosity?” angrily ejaculated Rizpah.
 
“They say all women are inquisitive; do they not?”
 
“They! The fling of the ‘lords of earth!’ Eaten up with anxiety solely concerning themselves, they plunge into introspections and questionings pertaining to their own worth; the ultimate of their own preciousness, that they call philosophy. Our sex, in self-forgetfulness, ask questions out of sympathy, and with desire to help others; that’s ‘curiosity!’ Faugh, the fling is sickening!”
 
[323]
 
“My book is both curious and philosophical; it’s interesting to both sexes therefore. Shall I read?”
 
“On thy promise to tell me later whence it came, who its author, thou mayst read it to me.”
 
Miriamne, perceiving that her mother was curious to hear the whole story, though the former placated her conscience by a show of indifference, responded: “I’ll begin with the return of the wanderers.” So saying, she read:
 
“‘But when Herod was dead, behold, an angel of the Lord appeareth in a dream to Joseph in Egypt, saying, arise, and take the young child and his mother, and go into the land of Israel: for they are dead which sought the young child’s life.
 
“‘And he arose, and took the young child and his mother, and came into the land of Israel.
 
“‘Being warned of God in a dream, he turned aside into the parts of Galilee:
 
“‘And he came and dwelt in a city called Nazareth: that it might be fulfilled which was spoken by the prophets. He shall be called a Nazarene.’”
 
“Nazarene!” Rizpah ejaculated, interrupting the reader. “Does the word not taste like wormwood, girl?”
 
The maiden replied, adroitly: “We read the pagan inscriptions on the monuments about us without being harmed! Surely we may safely read these nobler peoples’ words and deeds.” So saying, the maiden continued:
 
“‘Now his parents went to Jerusalem every year at the feast of the passover.
 
“‘And when He was twelve years old, they went up to Jerusalem after the custom of the feast.
 
[324]
 
“‘And when they had fulfilled the days, as they returned, the child Jesus tarried behind in Jerusalem; and Joseph and His mother knew not of it.
 
“‘But they, supposing Him to have been in the company, went a day’s journey; and they sought Him among their kinsfolk and acquaintance.
 
“‘And when they found Him not, they turned back again to Jerusalem, seeking Him.
 
“‘And it came to pass that after three days they found Him in the temple, sitting in the midst of the doctors, both hearing them, and asking them questions.
 
“‘And all that heard Him were astonished at His understanding and answers.
 
“‘And when they saw Him, they were amazed: and His mother said unto Him, Son, why hast thou thus dealt with us? Behold, Thy father and I have sought Thee sorrowing.
 
“‘And He said unto them, How is it that ye sought me? Wist ye not that I must be about my Father’s business?’”
 
“That was rude, was it not, daughter? Was not his father’s business his mother’s? He was young for such philosophy, so like that of tyrant husband.”
 
“He meant God’s business!”
 
“Then his earnestness was just. God first, kin after—mother or husband—say I. Did the mother gain-say him?”
 
“It is thus recorded,” replied the maiden.
 
“‘And they understood not the saying which He spake unto them.
 
“‘And he went down with them, and came to Nazareth, and was subject unto them; but his mother kept all these sayings in her heart.
 
[325]
 
“‘And He increased in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and man.’”
 
“Daughter, there was a fine spirit in that house; it was enhaloed by the girl-wife’s character! No wonder that the son increased in favor with God and man! He was able to cope with the doctors mentally, yet subjected himself to his mother. I’ll certify that he was wonderfully like his mother. The traits of the woman that bore him are prominent in every man of fine measure.”
 
“And are fine daughters, like their fathers,” laughingly questioned Miriamne, as she glanced at a reflection of herself in a metallic mirror suspended on the wall before her.
 
“Ah, that depends on whether they have wholesome fathers.” Then, turning her eyes affectionately toward her daughter, Rizpah continued: “Thou hast enough of Hebrew in thee to leaven thee. Yet, let me plant this in thy memory, my lamb, destined most likely some time to lie in anguish on the altar of maternity: Mothers determine beyond all else the fate of the world by determining beyond all else the characters of their offspring. Yea, girl, in the homes of industry, the bugle-calls of the soldier, the moving orations of the holy teacher, there are ever heard echoes of their cradle days.” Rizpah paused, drew a long sigh, and again broke forth: “But, alas! men and women walk in pairs. How can the gentler of the two, alone, or opposed by the stronger, succeed? I’ve seen paired birds battle the sly serpent, creeping toward their birdlings, victoriously; paired weakness triumphant over huge danger; and I’ve seen the lords of creation dropping serpents upon their own mates and their own[326] nestlings! If one would find a monstrous cruelty, he must needs seek in human homes!” Then the speaker, pausing, bowed herself, and sat swaying from side to side, with her hands over her eyes. Miriamne, accustomed to such action on her mother’s part, and knowing it was best when she was in such moods to leave her to herself, withdrew quietly. Yet, Rizpah seemed not alone to herself, for her mind was peopled with ghostly forms from her gloomy past; all painful companions, but still courted by the woman in her periods of morbidness. Presently she slept; the sleep of sorrow, that mercy balm of nature which comes to pained or wounded humanity as the power to grieve or ache is exhausted. The sleeper passed from consciousness of things about her, followed by the forms that had haunted her memory, and was soon among the wonders of dream land. Then came to her the sound of mighty contentions, and it seemed as if opposing forces were in conflict concerning herself. Rizpah, of the ancient, seemed to be trying to drag the dreamer toward seven crosses supporting seven stark forms. The babel of contending voices was silenced by others, exulting, as if in victory. There was a change; the sleeper seemed to be lifted up from caverns unutterably deep, and suffocating, upon a ruby cloud, soft as down to the touch, but irresistible in uplifting. She was borne swiftly, over vast realms of space, toward a golden gate-way with tomb-like arch, whose cross-shaped portal swung invitingly open. A river of light spreading to a sea, and vibrating with sense-entrancing melody, flowed outward through the mighty gate-way. On either side of the portals, and moving along the river, were many glorious beings. The latter soared[327] on wings of mighty sweep, whose motions seemed to beat in accord with the melody of the flowing light, while, from within and without the gate-way, there came the sound of countless voices, all, as it were, mingling in the triumphant swellings of a grand anthem. The dreamer discerned in the anthem two words, repeated over and over, tirelessly: “Glad Tidings!” “Glad Tidings!” “Glad Tidings!” The golden gate became rose-tinted; the color deepening to purple and gold as down the stream of light there floated an island of gardens, and on the island appeared two human forms; a youth and a maiden. The anthem “Glad Tidings” continued; but sweeter, louder, deeper than before. And the sleeper perceived that on the wings of the glorious beings there were emblems; red crosses, about each cross a ring of fire; above the crosses, bejeweled silver cups; then she knew that the twain on the island were bride and groom. The scene changed; there was a consciousness of a flight of time. She looked again, and on the island she beheld a mother lovingly bending over a babe; over mother and babe tenderly bended a man, by the pride and the affection he expressed, attesting himself the husband and father. Rizpah was enraptured, and in her dream she prayed the scene might tarry. She was nigh being envious of that happy mother. But her prayer was denied her, for soon she was startled by a voice at her side, saying, in tones of mournful rebuke: “Farewell, forever!”
 
The dreamer, looking about, beheld in her vision, her ideal, Rizpah; but the latter was wonderfully changed. Her eyes were dim and sunken; her form dwarfed, bowed and age-shriveled. Suddenly the whole vision faded into thin air, and Rizpah, of Bozrah, awakened[328] filled with condemnation. Before she fully realized that she had been dreaming, she cried out:
 
“Rizpah, oh, Rizpah, tarry a moment!”
 
Silence was her sole reply. Little by little, as she collected her thoughts, she comprehended that her vision, while sleeping, expressed the facts of her life while waking. The heroine girl-wife of Nazareth, the newer, finer, surer, truer ideal of womanhood, was demolishing in the mind of the woman of Bozrah her former idol, the lioness of Gibeah’s hill. She knew this, for she found herself contrasting the two ideals, and in mind lingering by preference and with the greater delight about conceptions of the younger. Then began the struggles of the giants in her conscience; clean truth against hoar prejudices; sweet mercy against bitter revenge; Mary of Bethlehem against Rizpah of Gibeah. The matron of Bozrah, usually hitherto so self-sufficient, was changing. She felt that yearning inevitable in the career of most women for a confidant. She could not sleep; she could not now go down to get inspiration by standing before the grim Rizpah-painting, in the lower room; she was miserable, lonely and restless.
 
Mechanically, she moved toward her daughter’s chamber, some way feeling that even a sleeper would be company to one so lonely as herself. Rizpah, alone, at night, in the grim, giant house, groping her way toward Miriamne’s sleeping place, was unconsciously illustrating her soul’s quest. She was in heart seeking alone, and in the dark, some one to take the place of her demolished ideal. Had the queen of women been there, in person, Rizpah, then, would have welcomed her. She groped her way to the maiden’s couch, feeling[329] that, as she believed, her daughter was pure and good and loving. Could the matron have analyzed her own feelings, she would have found that she was in part led toward Miriamne because the latter some way seemed like, or near to, the girl-wife who was supplanting in the heart of Rizpah of Bozrah, the wild Rizpah of Gibeah. A cloud passing let a flood of silvering moonlight full on the sleeper’s couch, and Rizpah, feasting her eyes, murmured: “I wonder if that woman of Bethlehem were not very like this maiden?” As the mother gazed on her offspring she presently began noting features in the sleeper’s face that reminded her of the absent father and husband. She recalled him as he appeared under the palms that night at Purim, and as he was that day he lay pale and bleeding in her all-giving arms. The whole past, that was delightful, came trooping up, and with it there came the full light of an old love revived; a renaissance of that she had supposed buried forever. Soon the aged woman, all youthful again within, was mentally in hot chase after the pleasure she had parted from so hastily long years before. She was glad of her thoughts, for they were rejoicing; glad she was alone, for the thoughts seemed sacred. It was no use, had she willed, to resist; so she just gave up to the impulse, and with a half-suppressed cry, passionately twined her arms about the sleeping girl, and covered the face of the latter with burning............