e my great-grandfather, I am named by the way--the priests alone know
why--as well as one called Osiris."

"Then there are the dancers, Prince, and among them some very finely
made girls, for I saw them bathing in the palace lake, such as would
have delighted the heart of your grandfather, the great Rameses."

"They do not delight my heart who want no naked women prancing here. Try
again, Pambasa."

"I can think of nothing else, Prince. Yet, stay. There is a scribe
without named Ana, a thin, sharp-nosed man who says he is your
Highness's twin in Ra."

"Ana!" said the Prince. "He of Memphis who writes stories? Why did you
not say so before, you old fool? Let him enter at once, at once."

Now hearing this I, Ana, walked through the curtains and prostrated
myself, saying,

"I am that scribe, O Royal Son of the Sun."

"How dare you enter the Prince's presence without being bidden----"
began Pambasa, but Seti broke in with a stern voice, saying,

"And how dare you, Pambasa, keep this learned man waiting at my door
like a dog? Rise, Ana, and cease from giving me titles, for we are not
at Court. Tell me, how long have you been in Tanis?"

"Many days, O Prince," I answered, "seeking your presence and in vain."

"And how did you win it at last?"

"By payment, O Prince," I answered innocently, "as it seems is usual.
The doorkeepers----"

"I understand," said Seti, "the doorkeepers! Pambasa, you will ascertain
what amount this learned scribe has disbursed to 'the doorkeepers' and
refund him double. Begone now and see to the matter."

So Pambasa went, casting a piteous look at me out of the corner of his
eye.

"Tell me," said Seti when he was gone, "you who must be wise in your
fashion, why does a Court always breed thieves?"

"I suppose for the same reason, O Prince, that a dog's back breeds
fleas. Fleas must live, and there is the dog."

"True," he answered, "and these palace fleas are not paid enough. If
ever I have power I will see to it. They shall be fewer but better fed.
Now, Ana, be seated. I know you though you do not know me, and already I
have learned to love you through your writings. Tell me of yourself."

So I told him all my simple tale, to which he listened without a word,
and then asked me why I had come to see him. I replied that it was
because he had sent for me, which he had forgotten; also because I
brought him a story that I had dared to dedicate to him. Then I laid the
roll before him on