Jonah
things perplexed her.
Sometimes she wished she were a boy, so that she might go hunting with
her uncle. Then she saw herself seated on a white horse, with her green
cape blowing in the wind, galloping and shouting. But at the thought
of piercing an animal with her spear, she turned away with quick
displeasure. “No,” she thought, “I should not like to go hunting.”
And she told her uncle that she was glad she was a girl. “So am I,” he
replied, “because if you were a boy, I should be disgusted with you.”
He loved his niece, but he liked people to be active and hardy. “The
women of to-day,” he often said, “do not amount to much.
“They have no enthusiasm.”
Now Judith sat before her bronze mirror, twisting her long brown hair
into plaits. As she sat, she sang:
“_My love is a shepherd in Sharon,
By rivers he waters his sheep,
Blue are the waters of Sharon,
Rivers of Sharon are deep._”
She knew no one in Sharon. Nevertheless her nurse said to her angrily,
“Now tell me, what sort of song is that for a young girl to sing?”
Judith replied that it was just a song. She added with a smile, “You
are vexed because you do not know any shepherds, and because you have
no lover.”
“That is my own business,” said Sarah, drawing herself up with dignity.
“However, I must say that it does not become you to speak of things
like that. What do you know about love? Nothing, I sincerely hope. You
should be thinking of marriage, with respectful modesty.”
“Well,” said Judith, “as a matter of fact, I think love is silly. It
does not interest me, really. Were you ever in love? Tell me honestly,
Sarah; I cannot imagine such a thing.”
Sarah gazed gloomily at her mistress. Presently a blush overspread her
sallow countenance. “In love?” she exclaimed; “certainly not. With
what, if I may ask? The trouble with you is that your head is full of
nonsense. When I was your age I had more decorum. I was prettier than
I am to-day, and I attracted the attention of a very handsome man, a
camel driver, but such a wild one. He was not good enough for me, and I
sent him about his business. I knew my own worth.”
So saying she tossed her head, with an air. But Judith clapped her
hands. “A camel driver,” she exclaimed, “why, Sarah, you never told me.
Did he take you up on his camel? Just think, how delightful. That’s
really life, isn’t it, Sarah?”
“Ak,” cried the nurse, “where do you get such ideas?”
And turning to Prince Ahab, who was entering the room at that moment,
she exclaimed,
“God knows who puts such things into her head.”
Prince Ahab replied, with a discouraged gesture, “Do not ask me, Sarah,
for I do not know who puts anything into people’s heads nowadays. I
assure you, the entire world is mad. Do you know what the king is
doing, now that the war is over? You would think he would be getting
ready for the next one. Not at all; he prefers to discuss the marriage
laws with Prince Absalom. What a state of affairs. Do not expect me to
know what makes a young girl foolish besides.”
“I am not foolish, Uncle,” said Judith; “when I am older, I shall be
just as wise as you or Sarah.”
“Be respectful to your uncle,” said Sarah.
Ahab shrugged his shoulders. “No one is respectful any more,” he said;
“I simply wonder that people do not go around with their fingers
actually to their noses. But, then, with so many prophets filling the
air with groans and complaints.... Amos, Joel, Hosea, they are enough
to fill the mind of anybody with disrespect.”
“And Jonah?” asked Judith.
Ahab replied gravely: “Jonah is not like the others. He comes of a
worthy family of Zebulon; as a matter of fact, his home is here in this
village. So, you can see, there is something to him. His brother is the
village herdsman. Yes, Jonah is quite a different thing altogether.”
Judith looked lazily at her face in the mirror. “Tell me what he is
like,” she said.
“What’s that to you?” asked Sarah. She added that she supposed he was
old and had a long white beard.
“No,” replied Ahab, “he is not old. He is young, and enthusiastic. His
eyes seem to burn. He is a little thin, but one can understand that,
living in the desert, and probably starving most of the time. It is not
a healthy life. I came upon him during the battle against the Aramæans;
the fighting had made him sick. He is not what I would call a very
robust individual.”
“And did he really see an angel,” asked Judith, “as they say he did?”
“Why not?” said Ahab. “Is there any reason why a man from my own
village should not see an angel? He has certainly as much right to see
one as Amos of Tekoa; or do you imagine that angels only appear to the
men of Judah?”
“What an idea,” cried Sarah.
And she added with conviction, “For myself, I would sooner take the
word of a man from Zebulon.”
But when Prince Ahab had gone, she said, sniffing the air with
vexation, “Men ought to stay out of the women’s apartments, where they
have no business, whether they are uncles or not.” Seizing a vial of
sweet-smelling oil, she began to sprinkle its contents in the room.
This consoled her nose, which had been outraged by the prince, who, as
usual, had come from the stables.
Judith went out into the warm spring morning. The bees were humming in
the blossoms, the birds sang quietly and gaily in the trees, and trees
and blossoms stretched themselves luxuriously in the bright sunshine.
Judith took a deep breath of the hot, sweet air; it was like eating
flowers, she thought. Underfoot, in the grass, beetles moved gravely to
and fro on their mysterious business; the world of stones and twigs was
being explored by little eager ants; wasps hung and buzzed. The earth
exhaled the beneficent fragrance of spring; everywhere was drowsy joy,
tranquil activity. A tanager flew overhead with scarlet wings, turned,
shone, and fled among the trees. The girl paused, and looked up at the
sky, blue as a robin’s egg. “I should like to dance,” she thought.
A moment later she added doubtfully, “But perhaps it would be wrong.”
At her feet a beetle with a bright green coat which reflected the light
was walking soberly toward his house. Presently an ant approached him
and gave him a bite on the leg. The beetle turned an anxious look on
his tiny assailant, whose head barely came up to his knee, “Come,
come,” he exclaimed, “have you no respect for beauty? Do you think God
enjoys having you bite me? He would be very much upset if anything
happened to me.”
Disdaining to reply, the ant went away to find his friends and discuss
the situation. “I gave it to him,” he said; “I gave him a bite he won’t
forget in a hurry. Now he knows who I am.”
Left to himself, the beetle hurried home in an agitated manner. And
Judith, remarking his awkward gait, cried,
“There, you are dancing, you strange creature, with your lovely green
coat. But that is quite another matter, because you are a beetle, and
not a Jew.”
She had a sudden thought. “Perhaps,” she said, “that is why you are
dancing. Perhaps you are a little god, with such a fine green coat.
Well, go in peace, I will not step on you. I will make a wish, instead.
Little beetle, tell me what love is. It does not interest me, really; I
would simply like to know....”
She broke off with a start. A shadow had fallen on the grass at her
feet, and she looked up with surprise. There, behind her and to one
side, stood a young man. He was not good-looking, but his expression
was gentle and kind. He had on an old, tattered cloak, and he leaned
thoughtfully upon a rough staff which easily supported his weight.
Judith looked at him with wide-open eyes.
“Oh, my,” she said.
And she added faintly, but in accents of hope, “Are you also a camel
driver?”
The young man shook his head. “No,” he said, “I am not a camel driver.”
Seeing that his reply had disappointed the young woman, he added simply,
“I am Jonah, the prophet.”
V
Jonah and Judith sat on a bank of ferns and moss beneath the shade of a
giant sycamore tree. Already they were friends; they talked earnestly
together, and twisted in their fingers the ferns with their tough
stalks and cool leaves.
“Well, but tell me,” said Judith, “did you really see an angel? Just
imagine, how exciting that must be. What was this angel like? Very
beautiful, I suppose.” And she looked down with a frown.
“Such beauty,” said Jonah gravely, “I cannot describe to you.
Because, actually, one does not see beauty, one feels it. One looks
at something, and suddenly one feels a pain in one’s heart. Then one
thinks ‘what a beautiful thing.’”
“Yes,” said Judith. “Well, tell me, did this angel have dark hair too,
like mine?”
“I do not know,” replied Jonah candidly. “I did not exactly see any
hair. But I remember the wide, white, folded wings, and the glow which
entered my heart at the sight of that serene face.”
Judith pouted. “Didn’t you notice anything at all?” she enquired. “For
instance, what did she wear. And was she young or old? What a strange
fellow you are; you saw almost nothing, or at any rate, nothing of any
consequence.”
“Why do you speak always of ‘her’?” asked Jonah. “This angel was not a
woman. At least, I did not think so.”
“Then he was a man,” cried Judith.
“No,” said Jonah slowly, “he was not a man, either.”
“You see,” said Judith, “I was right; she was a woman. And besides, if
she was so beautiful, naturally she was a woman.”
“I confess,” admitted Jonah, “that had not occurred to me.”
“Of course not,” said Judith. “But it occurred to me, because I am a
woman.”
And she added with a smile,
“Even if I am not as beautiful as an angel.”
“You are very pretty,” said Jonah shyly. “But it is not the same
thing.” And he dug in the moss with his staff.
“Do you really think I am pretty?” asked Judith. “Sarah, my nurse, says
that to be pretty is nothing, because any one can be pretty. She would
rather I were virtuous, because virtue is woman’s richest jewel. Of
course I mean to be virtuous, and to do what is expected of me.”
She began to weave some ferns into a chaplet. “Sometimes,” she said in
a low voice, “I look at myself in my mirror, and I give myself a little
kiss. Do you think it is wrong? Nobody sees me.”
Jonah moved uncomfortably in the moss. “God...?” he said.
“Oh,” said Judith. “Well, God ... old God.
“Anyway,” she added, “I don’t think He sees me.”
She looked at the garden from which an overpowering fragrance arose,
at the flowers languidly lifting their bright-colored faces to the
sun, drinking in the warmth and the light. “I have a little dove,”
she said, “made all of silver. It is a copy of the doves of Eryx, and
it is sacred to Astarte. My uncle brought it to me from Tyre. It is
pretty, because it is of silver, with eyes of rubies. I put it on the
window-sill of my room. It brought the birds; they came and sang on my
window-sill.
“My little dove sees me kiss myself in my mirror.
“Is it wrong, Jonah?”
When Jonah did not reply, she said, “Tell me what it is like in the
desert. Just imagine, to live all alone in a little hut or a cave, how
exciting that is.”
Jonah began to tell her of his life in the desert. Seated in the shade
on the moss, while the bees hummed outside in the sun, he described the
way in which the prophets came together for study and meditation. “I
have a little cell,” he said, “in Golan, near a tiny stream which rises
in the hills. It is clear and cold, and many prophets live beside its
banks among the rushes. In the morning, after we have prayed, we gather
in the shade to listen to some learned man, or eminent saint. Our
midday meal is simple, a few dates, some maize, a little oil or wine,
perhaps a fish from the deep waters of Cinnereth across the hills.
And in the afternoon we meditate upon the Law, and the history of our