y journey. But, alas, that Jerusalem should be destroyed!"

He looked around and was more puzzled than ever. When he had fallen
asleep the hill had been bare of vegetation. Now it was covered with
carob trees.

"I think I remember a man planting a carob tree yesterday," he said.
"But was it yesterday?"

He turned in the other direction and gave a cry of astonishment. The
sun was shining on a noble city of glittering pinnacles and minarets,
and around it were smiling fields and vineyards.

"Jerusalem still lives," he exclaimed. "Of a truth I have been
dreaming--dreaming that it was destroyed. Praise be to God that it was
but a dream."

With all speed he made his way across the plain to the city. People
looked at him strangely and pointed him out to one another, and the
children ran after him and called him names he did not understand.
But he took no notice. Near the outskirts of the city he paused.

"Canst thou tell me, father," he said to an old man, "which is the
house of Onias, the rabbi?"

"'Tis thy wit, or thy lack of it, that makes thee call me father,"
replied the man. "I must be but a child compared with thee."

Others gathered around and stared hard at Onias.

"Didst thou speak of Rabbi Onias?" asked one. "I know of one who says
that was the name of his grandfather. I will bring him."

He hastened away and soon returned with an aged man of about eighty.

"Who art thou?" Onias asked.

"Onias is my name," was the reply. "I am called so in honor of my
sainted grandfather, Rabbi Onias, who disappeared mysteriously one
hundred years ago, after the destruction of the First Temple."

"A hundred years," murmured Onias. "Can I have slept so long?"

"By thy appearance, it would seem so," replied the other Onias. "The
Temple has been rebuilt since then."

"Then it was not a dream," said the old man.

They led him gently indoors, but everything was strange to him. The
customs, the manners, the habits of the people, their dress, their
talk, was all different, and every time he spoke they laughed.

"Thou seemest like a creature from another world," they said. "Thou
speakest only of the things that have long passed away."

One day he called his grandson.

"Lead me," he said, "to the place of my long sleep. Perchance I will
sleep again. I am not of this world, my child. I am alone, a stranger
here, and would fain leave ye."

Taking the dates and the bottle of water which still remained fresh,
he made hi