sus spoke out spontaneously from his innermost
soul. So he grew into a slender, delicate stripling, learned the
foreign tongue, marked the customs, and followed them so far as they
pleased him. There was much in him that he did not owe to education;
although he said little, his mother observed it. And once she asked
Joseph: "Tell me, are other children like our Jesus?"

He answered; "So far as I know them--he is different."

One day, when Jesus was a little older, something happened. Joseph had
gone with the boy to the place where the boats land, in order to offer
his baskets for sale. There was a stir among the people: soldiers in
brilliant uniforms and carrying long spears marched along; then came
two heralds blowing their horns as if they would split the air with
their sharp tones; and behind came six black slaves drawing a golden
chariot in which sat Pharaoh. He was a pale man with piercing eyes,
dressed in costly robes, a sparkling coronet on his black, twisted
hair. The people shouted joyfully, but he heeded them not; he leaned
back wearily on his cushions. But all at once he lifted his head a
little; a boy in the crowd, the stranger basket-maker's little son,
attracted his attention. Whether it was his beauty or something
unusual about the boy that struck him, we cannot say, but he ordered
the carriage to be stopped, and the child to be brought to him.

Joseph humbly came forward with the boy, crossed his hands on his
breast, and made a deep obeisance.

"That is your son?" said the king in his own language.

Joseph bowed affirmatively.

"You are a Jew! Will you sell me the boy?" asked Pharaoh.

And then Joseph: "Pharaoh! although I am a descendant of Jacob, whose
sons sold their brother Joseph into Egypt, I do not deserve your irony.
We are poor people, but the child is our most cherished possession."

"I only spoke in kindness about the selling," said the king. "You are
my subjects, and the boy is my property. Take him, Hamar."

The servant was ready to put his hand on the little boy, who stood by
quietly and looked resolutely at the king. Joseph fell on his knees
and respectfully represented that he and his family were not Egyptian
subjects, but lived there as strangers, and implored the almighty
Pharaoh to allow him the rights of hospitality.

"I know nothing about all that, my good man," said the king. Then,
catching sight of the boy's angry face, he laughed. "Meseems, my young
Jew,