"
"Have you never been out on the hills at night with your father?"
"Never, grandfather. I have often begged him to let me come; but he
kept saying that I must wait until I was twelve years old. On the last
full moon was my birthday and today, when he returned from Bethlehem
to the flocks, he brought me with him."
"So this is the lad's first night with the sheep in the fields, and
the old man's last night, I fear," said the aged shepherd, sadly. "It
is not often in these days that I venture out to keep the watches of
the flock; but this one night of the year I have spent upon these
hills these many years, and I always shall as long as I have strength
to walk so far."
"Was your father, too, a shepherd?"
"Yes, and all his fathers before him for many generations. On these
hills my ancestors have kept their sheep for I know not how long."
Joseph was still for a moment. His eyes wandered away over the silent
hills, lit by the rising moon. His face was troubled. At length, he
said gently:
"Grandfather, I heard Rabbi Eliezer saying, the other day, in the
synagogue, that a shepherd's life is not a noble life. He was reading
from one of the old doctors, who said: 'Let no one make his son a
camel-driver, a barber, a sailor, a shepherd, or a shopkeeper. They
are dishonest callings.
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