d, headed by the he-goat,
their broken and shrill voices trembling with pleasure; the goat-herds
had much difficulty in restraining their high spirits and in bringing
back to the main body the marauding ones which strayed away. They were
counted, like the oxen and the asses, and with the same ceremonial the
goat-herds prostrated themselves at Poeri's feet.

The procession was closed by the geese, which, weary with walking on the
road, balanced themselves on their web feet, flapped their wings
noisily, stretched out their necks, and uttered hoarse cries. Their
number was taken, and the tablets handed to the steward of the domain.
Long after the oxen, the asses, the goats, and the geese had gone in, a
column of dust which the wind could not sweep away still rose slowly
into the heavens.

"Well, Hora," said Poeri to Tahoser, "has the sight of the harvest and
the flocks amused you? These are our pastoral pleasures. We have not
here, as in Thebes, harpists and dancers; but agriculture is holy; it is
the nurse of man, and he who sows a grain of corn does a deed agreeable
to the gods. Now come and take your meal with your companions. For my
part, I am going back to the house to calculate how many bushels of
wheat the ears have produced."

Tahoser put one hand to the ground and the other on her head as a mark
of respectful assent, and withdrew.

In the dining-hall laughed and chattered a number of young servants as
they ate their onions and cakes of doora and dates. A small earthenware
vase full of oil, in which dipped a wick, gave them light,--for night
had fallen,--and cast a yellow light upon their brown cheeks and bodies
which no garment veiled. Some were seated on ordinary wooden seats,
others leaned against the wall with one leg drawn up.

"Where does the master go like that every evening?" said a little,
sly-looking maid, as she peeled a pomegranate with pretty, monkey-like
gestures.

"The master goes where he pleases," replied a tall slave, who was
chewing the petals of a flower. "Is he to tell you what he does? It is
not you, in any case, who will keep him here."

"Why not I as well as another?" answered the child, piqued.

The tall slave shrugged her shoulders.

"Hora herself, who is fairer and more beautiful than any of us, could
not manage it. Though he bears an Egyptian name and is in the service of
the Pharaoh, he belongs to the barbarous race of Israel, and if he goes
out at night, it is no doubt to be