said he, "our religion commands us to eat
them roasted. Now therefore, O King," continued this respectable divine,
"give command to thy men of war, and let them smite the disobedient
people with the sword, them, and their wives, and their children, and
let their houses, and their flocks, and their herds, be given to thy
servants the priests. Then shall the land yield its increase, and
the fruits of the earth shall be no more blasted by the vengeance of
Heaven."

"Nay," said the king, "the ground lies under no general curse from
Heaven. The season has been singularly good. The wine which thou didst
thyself drink at the banquet a few nights ago, O venerable Merolchazzar,
was of this year's vintage. Dost thou not remember how thou didst praise
it? It was the same night that thou wast inspired by Belus and didst
reel to and fro, and discourse sacred mysteries. These things are too
hard for me. I comprehend them not. The only wine which is bad is that
which is sent to my judges. Who can expound this to us?"

The king scratched his head. Upon which all the courtiers scratched
their heads.

He then ordered proclamation to be made that a purple robe and a golden
chain should be given to the man who could solve this difficulty.

An old philosopher, who had been observed to smile rather disdainfully
when the prize had first been instituted, came forward and spoke thus:--

"Gomer Chephoraod, live for ever! Marvel not at that which has happened.
It was no miracle, but a natural event. How could it be otherwise? It is
true that much good wine has been made this year. But who would send it
in for thy rewards? Thou knowest Ascobaruch who hath the great vineyards
in the north, and Cohahiroth who sendeth wine every year from the south
over the Persian Golf. Their wines are so delicious that ten measures
thereof are sold for an hundred talents of silver. Thinkest thou that
they will exchange them for thy slaves and thine asses? What would thy
prize profit any who have vineyards in rich soils?"

"Who then," said one of the judges, "are the wretches who sent us this
poison?"

"Blame them not," said the sage, "seeing that you have been the authors
of the evil. They are men whose lands are poor, and have never yielded
them any returns equal to the prizes which the king proposed. Wherefore,
knowing that the lords of the fruitful vineyards would not enter into
competition with them they planted vines, some on rocks, and some in
light s