"'A child, a little child,' they answered. 'He is called the little Master
by the others. He comes here often, and plays among the flowers of the
hillside. Sometimes the lambs, gambolling too carelessly, have crushed and
bruised us so that we lie bleeding and are like to die; but the little
Master heals our wounds and refreshes us once again.'

"I marvelled much to hear these things. 'The midnight hour is at hand,'
said I, 'and I will abide with you to see this little Master of whom you
speak.' So we nestled among the verdure of the hillside, and sang songs
one to another.

"'Come away!' called the night wind; 'I know a beauteous sea not far
hence, upon whose bosom you shall float, float, float away out into the
mists and clouds, if you will come with me.'

"But I hid under the violets and amid the tall grass, that the night wind
might not woo me with its pleading. 'Ho, there, old olive-tree!' cried the
violets; 'do you see the little Master coming? Is not the midnight hour at
hand?'

"'I can see the town yonder,' said the old olive-tree. 'A star beams
bright over Bethlehem, the iron gates swing open, and the little Master
comes.'

"Two children came to the hillside. The one, older than his comrade, was
Dimas, the son of Benoni. He was rugged and sinewy, and over his brown
shoulders was flung a goat-skin; a leathern cap did not confine his long,
dark curly hair. The other child was he whom they called the little
Master; about his slender form clung raiment white as snow, and around his