oman stood erect, beaming with joy.

"Hersh, you are a good man!" she exclaimed. "You are kind to
associate me, a woman, with such an important affair and great
thoughts."

"Why should I not do it? Are you a bad housekeeper or a bad mother?
You do everything well, and your soul is as beautiful as your eyes."

The white face of the young Hebrew woman became scarlet. She dropped
her eyes, but her coral-like lips whispered some words of love and
gratitude.

Hersh rose.

"Where shall we search for the writing?" said he thoughtfully.

"Where?" repeated the woman.

"Freida," said the husband, "Michael the Senior could not have hidden
his writing in the earth, for he knew that there the worms would eat
it, or that it would turn to dust. Is this writing in the earth?"

"No," answered the woman, "it is not there."

"He could not have hidden it in the wails of the house, for he knew
that they would rot, and that they would be destroyed, and new ones
built. These walls I have built myself, and I carefully searched the
old ones, but there was no writing."

"There was not," repeated Freida sorrowfully.

"He could not have hidden it in the roof, because he knew it would
not be safe there. When I was born there was perhaps the tenth roof
built over our house, but it seems to me that the writing could not
have been there. Where is it?"

Both were thoughtful. All at once, after a while, the woman
exclaimed:

"Hersh, I know where the writing is!"

Her husband raised his head. His wife was pointing to the large
library filled with books, which stood in a corner of the room.

"There?" said Hersh, hesitatingly.

"There," repeated the woman, with conviction. "Have you not told me
that these are Michael Senior's books, and that all the Ezofowichs
have preserved them, but no one has read them because Todros would
not permit the reading of books."

Hersh passed his hand over his forehead, and the woman spoke further.

"Michael the Senior was a wise man, and he saw the future. He knew
that for a long time no one would read those books, and that only the
one who would read them would be that great-grandson who would find
his writings."

"Freida, Freida," exclaimed Hersh, "you are a wise woman!"

She modestly dropped her dark eyes.

"Hersh, I am going to see why the baby is crying. I will give the
servants their orders, and have them keep the fire, then I will come
here and aid you in your work."

"Come!" said her hus