He had not remembered the old shepherd, who had taught him all he knew about sheep, for many a day. It is nigh on five and forty years, he said to himself, since he called me to hold the ewes while he made them clean for the winter. It was in yon cave the flock was folded when I laid hands on the ewes for the first time and dragged them forward for him to clip the wool from the rumps. He could see in his memory each different ewe trotting away, looking as if she were thankful for the shepherd’s kind office towards her. There was something extraordinarily restful in his memory of old Joshbekashar, and to prolong it Jesus fell to recalling the old man’s words; and every little disjointed sentence raised up the old man before him. It was but three times that I held the ewes for him, so it can
