n detail how he had felt a pain in his right jaw on the day before,
and how he awoke at night with a terrible toothache. To illustrate it
he made a martyr's face, closing his eyes, shook his head, and groaned
while the grey-bearded Samuel nodded his head compassionately and said:

"Oh, how painful it must have been!"

Ben-Tovit was pleased with Samuel's attitude, and he repeated the story
to him, then went back to the past, when his first tooth was spoiled
on the left side. Thus, absorbed in a lively conversation, they reached
Golgotha. The sun, which was destined to shine upon the world on that
terrible day, had already set beyond the distant hills, and in the
west a narrow, purple-red strip was burning, like a stain of blood. The
crosses stood out darkly but vaguely against this background, and at the
foot of the middle cross white kneeling figures were seen indistinctly.

The crowd had long dispersed; it was growing chilly, and after a glance
at the crucified men, Ben-Tovit took Samuel by the arm and carefully
turned him in the direction toward his house. He felt that he was
particularly eloquent just then, and he was eager to finish the story
of his toothache. Thus they walked, and Ben-Tovit made a martyr's
face, shook his head and groaned skilfully, while Samuel nodded
compassionately and uttered exclamations from time to time, and from the
deep, narrow defiles, out of the distant, burning plains, rose the black
night. It seemed as though it wished to hide from the view of heaven the
great crime of the earth.

THE SERPENT'S STORY

Hush! Hush! Hush! Come closer to me. Look into my eyes!

I always was a fascinating creature, tender, sensitive, and grateful.
I was wise and I was noble. And I am so flexible in the writhing of my
graceful body that it will afford you joy to watch my easy dance. Now
I shall coil up into a ring, flash my scales dimly, wind myself around
tenderly and clasp my steel body in my gentle, cold embraces. One in
many! One in many!

Hush! Hush! Look into my eyes!

You do not like my writhing and my straight, open look? Oh, my head
is heavy--therefore I sway about so quietly. Oh, my head is
heavy--therefore I look so straight ahead, as I sway about. Come closer
to me. Give me a little warmth; stroke my wise forehead with your
fingers; in its fine outlines you will find the form of a cup into which
flows wisdom, the dew of the evening-flowers. When I draw the air by my
writhing, a