Aunt Miriam was talking.
"And so, since Simon is still sick with a heavy summer cold, nothing will do but I must ride to Jerusalem to-morrow with the load of grapes," she was saying. Simon had large vineyards and owned many olive-trees, beside being host at the inn. "To be sure, Jacob is a good serving-lad and manages well without his master. But there is no one, after himself, who makes a better bargain than I, Simon says, and so I must ride with the fruit to see that justice is done my lord Simon in the trade."
Here Aunt Miriam laughed so heartily that Samuel and his wife were forced to smile in sympathy. But Samuel was not altogether pleased with Aunt Miriam's little joke about her husband, who was in truth her lord and master and worthy of her deepest respect. He changed the subject by asking:
"And what does the physician say of Simon?"
"He recommended that he kiss the nose of a mule," Aunt Miriam answered gravely.
To her and to her audience there was nothing amusing about this prescription. Stranger remedies than that had been ordered by the wise doctors of the day: a broth of beetle's legs, crab's eyes, the heads of mice, bruised flies to cure the sting of a hornet!
"But in spite of this," she continued, "he is still flat on his back, groaning with aches and pains. So, to-morrow, Jacob and I start at sunrise with the bullock cart, and no doubt there will be room among the baskets of grapes for Naomi, if thou wilt permit her to go."
Naomi, at her father's elbow, glanced imploringly into his face, but she did not speak a word. Her mother, from the end of the bench, smiled hopefully at the little girl, but she, too, waited in deferent silence until, to Naomi's great relief, her father gave a nod of consent.
"It is kind of thee, sister Miriam," said he, putting his arm about Naomi and drawing her to his side, "to think of giving our little daughter this pleasure."