centre revived his interest in it, and there was a certain pathetic interest attached to the memory of a question he once put to his father.  He asked him if Capernaum was the greatest city in the world, and for years after he was teased till Capernaum became hateful to him; but Capernaum within the last few minutes regained its place in his affections.  And as the town became hallowed in recollection he cried out to Philip that he could not go farther with him.  Not go any farther with me, Philip answered:  now why is that, brother, for Peter is waiting to see you and will take on mightily when I tell him that you came to the head of the lake with me and turned back.  But it is Peter whom I fear to meet, Joseph muttered, and then at the sight of the long lean street slanting down the hillside towards the lake, breaking up into irregular hamlets, some situated at the water’s edge close to the wharf where Peter’s boats lay gently rocking, he repeated:  it is Peter that I fear.  But unwilling to take Philip into his confidence he turned as if to go back to Magdala without further words, but Philip restrained him, and at last Joseph confessed his grief—­that being the son of a rich man he was not eligible to the society of the poor.  You will ask me, he said, to give up my money to the poor, a thing I would willingly do for the sake of Jesus, whom I believe to be God’s prophet; but how can I give that which does not belong to me—­my father’s money?  That was my grief when you found me sitting on the stone by the lake’s edge.

Whereupon Philip stood looking at Joseph as one suspended, for the first time understanding rightly that the rich have their troubles as well as the poor.  At last words coming to him he said:  money has been our trouble since Jesus drew us together, for we would do without money and yet we know not how this is to be done.  Like you, Sir, I’m asking if I’m to sell my sails, those already out and those in the unrolled material, and if I do sell and give the money to the poor how am I to live but by begging of those that have not given their all?  But why should I worry you with our troubles?  But your troubles are mine, Joseph answered; and Philip went away to fetch Peter, who, he said, would be able to tell him if Jesus could accept a rich man as a disciple.  If a man that has a little be permitted to remain, who is to say how much means interdiction?  Joseph asked himself as he kept watch for Peter to appear at the corner of the street.  And does he know the Master’s mind enough to answer the question of my admission or——­ The sentence did not finish in his mind, for Peter was coming up the street at that moment, a great broad face coming into its features and expression.  The same high-shouldered fisher as of yore, Joseph said to himself, and he sought to read in Peter’s face the story of Peter’s transference from one master to another.  It wasn’t the approach of the Great Day, he said, for Peter never could see beyond his sails and the fins of a fish; and if Jesus were able to lift his thoughts beyond them he had accomplished a no less miracle than turning water into wine.