ersecution and misery. Hard is the fate of the
toiling man. The worm eats half his harvest, the rhinoceros the other
half; in the fields, a legion of mice live; the locust devours, the
cattle trample, the sparrows steal. What is left after these for the
threshing floor the thief takes. Oh, wretched earth-tillers! Now comes
the scribe to the boundary and mentions the harvest. His attendants
have sticks, and black men carry palm rods. 'Give wheat!' say they. He
answers, 'There is none.' They flog him; immediately they stretch him
out at full length they bind him; they hurl him into the canal, where
they sink him, head downward. They bind his wife in his presence and
also his children. His neighbors flee, carrying their wheat away with
them." [Original description.]

"I have seen that myself," said Ramses, "and have driven off at least
one scribe of that sort. But can I be everywhere to forestall
injustice?"

"Thou mayst command, lord, not to torment working-men needlessly. Thou
mayst decrease taxes, appoint days of rest for the earth-tillers. Thou
mayst give each family a patch of land, even the harvest of which would
be theirs, and serve to nourish them. In the opposite case they will
feed themselves as they now do, with lotus seeds, rotten fish and
papyrus, till thy people will perish finally. But show them favor and
they will rise."

"Indeed, I will do so!" said Ramses. "A wise owner will not let cattle
starve nor work beyond the strength of their bodies, or be clubbed
without reason. This must be changed."

Pentuer halted.

"Dost Thou promise that, worthy lord?"

"I swear!" answered Ramses.

"Then I swear that Thou wilt be the most famous of all pharaohs; before
thee the fame of Ramses the Great, will grow pale!" cried the priest,
mastering himself no longer.

The prince fell to thinking, then asked,

"What can we two do against those priests who hate me?"

"They fear thee, lord," answered Pentuer. "They fear lest Thou begin
war too soon against Assyria?"

"What is that to them if the war be successful?"

The priest bent his head and spread his hands, but was silent.

"Then I will tell thee," cried the prince, in anger. "They want no war!
They fear that I might return from it a conqueror, laden with
treasures, urging on slaves in front of me. They fear this because they
wish every pharaoh to be a weak tool in their grasp, a utensil of no
real value, a utensil to be thrown aside when the wish comes. Bu