“So,” he said slowly, “that is the kind of prophet you are, then. You think only of yourself, but what about your family? Do you imagine we have so many opportunities to give feasts, and call in the neighbors? Or have you done something to be ashamed of? When an honor comes to us, that is the time to talk about it.” Aaron agreed with his uncle, although he did not see what they had to be proud of. “We are no better off than before,” he complained, “seeing that Jonah brought home nothing with him from the war.” “What?” exclaimed Uncle David. “What a pity.” He wagged his old head meditatively. “There it is,” he said; “times change, whether you like it or not. When I was a young man it was entirely different. Feasts, festivals.... I can tell you, we knew how to enjoy ourselves. And what is more, we were religious; it was not like to-day. At any rate, children were respectful, and considered their parents; when they went to a war, they brought something home.” And he lamented the decay of Israel’s greatness. But Deborah put in a good word for her son. “If he brought me nothing,” she said, “it was because he knows that really I am satisfied with what I have, and besides there was nothing there which caught his fancy.” “The old days are no more,” said David, and relapsed into gloomy silence. Aaron, who had been growing restless in his corner, got to his feet. “Mother,” he said, “I am going out for a while, to see some of my friends.” “Again,” cried Deborah, “so soon, when your brother has just come home, and Uncle David is here? Aaron, no....” “I will go with him,” said Jonah quietly; “I should like to visit old Naaman, who lives at the edge of the village. Do you remember, Mother, how I used to go there when I was young; and I have not seen him in many years.” “Yes,” said Deborah with a smile, “it is true; I remember, you were always there; whenever I could not find you, I had only to look for you in Naaman’s house, and there you were. Go along, but do not be late; and”--she added in a whisper--“when you come home I will have some food set out for you.” She turned sternly to her younger son. “Aaron,” she said, “please do not get into any fresh mischief with your friends. Perhaps you would do better to go with your brother; it would do you good for a change instead of running up and down the village with nobody knows who.” Her gaze followed her sons with tender anxiety across the threshold. “So thin he looks,” she murmured; “and his cloak is so tattered; really, I am ashamed. But what can I do; I have nothing; and he is so proud, besides.” And she smiled at her brother, with a tear shining in her eye. Jonah and Aaron walked along in silence, under the dark boughs of trees. At last Aaron remarked: “Well ... you see ... you have made a start now with things. The desert is all very well for old men. But what sort of life is that, after all?”