His hard mat at night, or worked in the shop by day, legions of Angels were prostrate in adoration before Him.
It was the keenest pain to her to see Him treated with any want of reverence. When neighbours came into her little home in Egypt, and, meaning to be kind, took up her Babe and dandled and played with Him as if He had been an ordinary child, still more when the townsfolk of Nazareth spoke to Him roughly, found fault with His work, ordered Him here and there, it was hard to look on and say nothing. But she had God's secret to keep, and until the hour had come for her Son to show Himself to the world she must be content to adore in silence and try to make up to Him by her loving reverence for the neglect of those who knew Him not.
Time went on, went quickly in the Holy House, for they were all so happy. Our Lord was quite grown up now, and did all the hard work at the shop. For Joseph's strength was failing. Still he liked to go to the little timber yard, for Jesus was there, and He could sit and watch Him even if he could not help. And there he did sit hour after hour, his eyes fixed on his Foster-Son, watching and wondering why he should have been chosen to be His guardian, why people were allowed to call that Holy One "the Son of Joseph."
At last he could no longer get to his place in the yard. Then, a little later, the end came. There was no illness; the old man simply seemed to fade away. Our Lord prepared him for death, making with him the acts of Faith, Hope, and Charity which get us ready to die. Joseph had always willed just what God willed. It was this habit that made his face so peaceful that
