but every time we take that turning down yonder to the lake’s edge and I see my boats rocking I offer up a little prayer that the Master may be looking the other way or thinking of something else.  James and John, sons of Zebedee, are of the same mind as myself—­that we shouldn’t trouble the Master too closely with the working out of his teaching.  The teaching is the thing.  Why, they be coming towards us, as sure as my name’s Simon Peter, sent perhaps by the Master to fetch us, so long have we been away talking.

Joseph turned to greet the two young men, whom he had known always; as far back as he could remember he had talked to them over the oars, and seen them let down the nets and draw up the nets, and they had hoisted the sail for his pleasure, abandoning the fishing for the day, knowing well that Joseph’s father would pay them for the time they lost in pleasing his son.  And now they were young men like himself, only they knew no Greek; rough young men, of simple minds and simple life, who were drawn to Jesus—­James a lean man, whose small sullen eyes, dilatory speech and vacant little laugh used to annoy Joseph.  James always asked him to repeat the words though he had heard perfectly.  Joseph liked John better, for his mind was sturdy and his voice grew sullen at any word of reproof and his eyes flamed, and Joseph wondered what might be the authority that Jesus held over him, a rough turbulent fellow, whom Joseph had always feared a little; even now in their greeting there was a certain dread in Joseph, which soon vanished, for John’s words were outspoken and hearty.  We’re glad to have you back again amongst us, Master, I’ve been saying since I left Capernaum this morning.  But “Master” is a word, John, that I’ve heard isn’t used among you.  Truly it is not used among the brotherhood, John answered.  And I came to ask admission, Joseph said.  Well, that be good news, Master—­brother I should say, for our Master will be glad to meet thee.  But that, Philip began, is just the matter we were speaking of among ourselves before we saw thee coming towards us.  For there be a difficulty.  He be as earnest as any of us, but our rule is what thou knowest it to be.  Despite John’s knowledge of the rule Philip began the story, and again he was so prolix in it that Joseph, wishing John to decide on the strict matter of it, and not to be lost in details, some of which were true and some of which were false and all confused in Philip’s telling, interrupted the narrator, saying that he would give all the money that was strictly his, but his father’s he couldn’t give nor his partner’s.  We’ve many camels, he said, in common, and how are these to be divided?  Nor is it right, it seems to me, that my partner should be left with the burden of all the trade we have created together; yet it is hard that I who have sought Jesus in the deserts of Judea as far as Egypt, and found him in Galilee, at home, should be forced to range myself apart from him, with whom my heart is.  Would