the blaze in great glee. She piled on all the sticks and old
barrels she could find, and soon the fire spread and caught a house.
The children ran away in fear while the fire blazed so furiously that
the whole town became alarmed. Before the flames could be
extinguished, a number of houses had been burned down and much damage
done. The creature could not be found, and only when the parchment
with the Name, which could not burn, was discovered amid the ashes,
was it known that she had been destroyed in the conflagration.

The Council of the city was indignant when it learned of the strange
occurrence, and Rabbi Lion was summoned to appear before King Rudolf.

"What is this I hear," asked his majesty. "Is it not a sin to make a
living creature?"

"It had no life but that which the Sacred Name gave it," replied the
rabbi.

"I understand it not," said the king. "Thou wilt be imprisoned and
must make another creature, so that I may see it for myself. If it is
as thou sayest, thy life shall be spared. If not--if, in truth, thou
profanest God's sacred law and makest a living thing, thou shalt die
and all thy people shall be expelled from this city."

Rabbi Lion at once set to work, and this time made a man, much bigger
than the woman that had been burned.

"As your majesty sees," said the rabbi, when his task was completed,
"it is but a creature of wood and glue with springs at the joints. Now
observe," and he put the Sacred Name in its mouth.

Slowly the creature rose to its feet and saluted the monarch who was
so delighted that he cried: "Give him to me, rabbi."

"That cannot be," said Rabbi Lion, solemnly. "The Sacred Name must not
pass from my possession. Otherwise the creature may do great damage
again. This time I shall take care and will not use the man on the
Sabbath."

The king saw the wisdom of this and set the rabbi at liberty and
allowed him to take the creature to his house. The Jews looked on in
wonderment when they saw the creature walking along the street by the
side of Rabbi Lion, but the children ran away in fear, crying: "The
bogey-man."

The rabbi exercised caution with his bogey-man this time, and every
Friday, just before Sabbath commenced, he took the name from its mouth
so as to render it powerless.

It became more wonderful every day, and one evening it startled the
rabbi from a doze by beginning to speak.

"I want to be a soldier," it said, "and fight for the king. I belong
to the king