nd said slowly, "You
can't be a Jew, because--because Jews eat children!"

"I'm a Jew--my father is a Jew--all our folks are Jews--the Jews are the
Chosen People of God!" Little Mayer spoke slowly and with feeling.

"The Chosen People of God?" echoed William.

"Yes!"

They saw the horses, and Mayer looked at them with wondering eyes. There
were no horses in the Ghetto--just pushcarts and wheelbarrows. William
had been lame--hip disease, or something, and so had never been away
down to the city, except with a nurse, or in a carriage with his tutor.
The boys entered the house and the Landgrave was still explaining to
Anselm Moses how all coins made by the Assyrians were modeled by hand,
not stamped out with a die, as was done by the Greeks.

The boys hadn't been missed. "Can't I have one of those to wear on my
coat, too?" asked William, pulling at his father's sleeve, and pointing
to the yellow patch on Mayer's jacket.

"One of what, my son?" asked the Landgrave seriously.

"One of those yellow medals!"

The Landgrave looked at Mayer's yellow patch, and then involuntarily at
the badge worn by the boy's father.

The Landgrave's fine face flushed scarlet. His gaze met the steady,
manly look of Anselm Moses.

They understood each other. No one was near, save the two boys. They met
as equals, as men meet on the plain or desert. "It's all a mistake--a
foolish mistake, Anselm, and some day we will outgrow it. A man's a
man!"

He held out his hand. The Jew grasped it firmly and both men smiled--the
smile of friendship and understanding.

As the Jew and his son started to go, the Landgrave gave little Mayer a
big copper penny, and asked him to come back some day and play with
William.

And Anselm Moses, the Jew, took up his pack that he had left at the
servants' quarters, and holding the hand of little Mayer Anselm, they
walked out of the castle yard, down among the winding trees to the
road.

* * * * *

Mayer Anselm took to his father's business as a bird takes to the air.
From selling trinkets he began dealing in jewelry, old coins,
curiosities and paintings. He picked his customers, and knew the
weaknesses of each--certain things were bought for certain people.

The idea of becoming a Rabbi was abandoned--he wanted temporal power,
not spiritual. Money to the intelligent Jew is the symbol of power--of
independence. There may be men who love the money itself, but surely
this m