do this?"

"Easily," replied Ikkor, "if your wise men can make me a thread of
sand."

"And canst thou weave a thread of sand?" asked Pharaoh.

"I can," responded Ikkor.

Noting the direction of the sun, he bored a tiny hole in the wall, and
a thin sunbeam gleamed through. Then, taking a few grains of sand he
blew them through the hole and in the sunbeam they seemed like a
thread.

"Take it, quickly," he cried, but of course nobody could do this.

Pharaoh looked long and earnestly at Ikkor.

"Truly, thou art a man of wisdom," he said. "If he were not dead I
should say thou wert Ikkor, the wise."

"I am Ikkor," answered the vizier, and he told the story of his
escape.

"I will prove thy innocence," exclaimed Pharaoh. "I will write a
letter to your royal master."

Not only did he do so, but he gave Ikkor many valuable presents and
the vizier returned to Assyria, resumed his place by the king's side,
and became a greater favorite than before. Nadan was banished and was
never heard of again.

The Pope's Game of Chess

Nearly a thousand years ago in the town of Mayence, on the bank of the
Rhine, there dwelt a pious Jew of the name of Simon ben Isaac. Of a
most charitable disposition, learned and ever ready to assist the poor
with money and wise counsel, he was reverenced by all, and it was
believed he was a direct descendant of King David. Everybody was proud
to do him honor.

Simon ben Isaac had one little son, a bright boy of the name of
Elkanan, who he intended should be trained as a rabbi. Little Elkanan
was very diligent in his studies and gave early promise of developing
into an exceptionally clever student. Even the servants in the
household loved him for his keen intelligence. One of them, indeed,
was unduly interested in him.

She was the Sabbath-fire woman who only came into the house on the
Sabbath day to attend to the fires, because, as you know, the Jewish
servants could not perform this duty. The Sabbath-fire woman was a
devoted Catholic and she spoke of Elkanan to a priest. The latter was
considerably impressed.

[Illustration: "Thou canst only be my long lost son Elkanan!"
(_Page 224_).]

"What a pity," he remarked, "that so talented a boy should be a Jew.
If he were a Christian, now," he added, winningly, "he could enter the
Holy Church and become famous."

The Sabbath-fire woman knew exactly what the priest meant.

"Do you think he could rise to be a bishop?" she aske