On this particular evening, as he went out of the dining-room with
Lo-ruhamah, his seven-year-old sister, and Lo-ammi, his four-year-old
brother, Jezreel made up his mind to do a very unusual thing. He
determined not to sleep at all.

That afternoon, his father, Hosea, had returned from Bethel all out of
sorts. The children had been expecting him, as they always did, when
he came home from the sanctuary, to bring the usual little gifts; but
the father seemed to have forgotten them. In fact, Hosea was quite
irritated when, not understanding his father's mood, Lo-ammi cried for
the expected sweets or trinkets.

In a little while, however, Hosea, calmed his youngest son and
promised all three of the children that, in the morning, he would take
them to the bazaars in the market place, to buy what they pleased.

Just then their mother, Gomer, came in. She was a beautiful woman,
dressed in the latest fashions of the wealthy Samarians. Her robes
were long and flowing. A veil, woven of golden threads and imported
from Assyria, set off her jet-black hair. Her arms and fingers were
adorned with jewel-studded bracelets and rings. She was accompanied by
an Ethiopian slave.

Strange to say, the children did not rush to their mother, except
little Lo-ammi, who was fond of the jeweled things she wore.

Gomer, on the other hand, did not seem to feel hurt that the children
clung to their father and quite ignored her. After a formal greeting
to her husband, and a pat of Lo-ammi's head, Gomer retired to her own
room.