After a while he no longer heard the Rabbi's voice, and the people began to move and make a little murmur of talking. He crept through the crowd toward the group round the Rabbi where his Uncle Andrew would be. When he got there he found they were trying to think of a way to feed all these hundreds of people who were tired and hungry, and miles away from any place where they could get food. That reminded him of the luncheon he had brought, and he pushed the basket into Uncle Andrew's hand.
Uncle Andrew looked into the basket and smiled when he saw what it had in it. Then he said to the Rabbi, "There is a lad here, which hath five barley loaves and two small fishes; but what are they among so many?" All the same, though, he held out the basket to the Rabbi, as if he really thought it would be of some use to him.
The boy looked to see if the great Rabbi would be angry with Uncle Andrew for saying such a useless thing, when all the others were trying hard to think what could be done. But no; instead of that, he looked as if something had made him delightfully happy, and he said, "Make the men sit down." And they did. Then the Rabbi blessed the five little loaves and the two little fishes which he had taken out of the basket, and began to break them up and give them to those especial friends of his who were always with him. And they carried them to the people sitting on the grass, and came back for more again and again.
The boy went with Uncle Andrew, back and forth, again and again. He wanted, more than anything, to help in some little way, if it were only to hold back his uncle's robe as he bent toward the people on the ground.
When they would walk back for more food, he scarcely dared go so near to the wonderful Rabbi. And yet--his heart was in his throat with the joy and wonder of it--was it not his own barley bread and fish that the Rabbi had been so glad to have, and with which he was feeding all these thousands of hungry people?
Last of all, after every one was fed, the boy sat down close to his uncle and they had some luncheon, too; but he could not take his eyes from the Rabbi's face. He looked and looked until he could not see it any more, for he had gone to sleep in the warm grass.