There are
other worlds, you know. But it is very true. He came as one of the
kings. And the woman now has a beautiful child. She knows.... So we
shan't be very sad about Mikhail. I think he also to-day is following
that star, and will be at Bethlehem to-night."
"Only it doesn't happen to be Christmas Eve," said the sceptical
visitor.
"Eh, hey," said another pilgrim, breaking in, "there's a man--he
doesn't know that it is Christmas every day in the year at Bethlehem."
IV
THE WANDERER'S STORY
I. MY COMPANION
When star passes star once in a thousand years, or perhaps once in the
forever, and does not meet again, what a tale has each to tell! So
with tramps and wanderers when two meet upon the road, what a tale
of life is due from one to the other. Many tramps have I met in the
world. Far from the West I have met those who came far from the East,
and men have passed me coming from the South, and men from the North.
And sometimes men have suddenly appeared on my way as if they had
fallen from the sky, or as if they had started up out of the earth.
One morning when I was dwelling in a cave between a mountain and a
river I met him who tells this story. Probably the reader has never
lived in a cave and does not appreciate cave life--the crawling in at
night, the long and gentle sleep on the soft grey sand, the crawling
out again at morning, the washing in the river, the stick-collecting
and kettle-boiling, the berry-gathering, the lazy hours of noon, the
lying outstretched on the springy turf, sun-drinking, the wading in
the river and the plashing of the rushing water over one's legs; sunny
days, grey days, rainy days, the joyous delight in the beautiful
world, the exploration of one's own heart, the sadness of
self-absorption.
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