Jewish Fairy Tales and Legends Part 23

Ikkor could scarcely credit the truth when his friend came to him in the cellar with the news, and the people wept tears of joy and pity when the old vizier was led through the streets. He presented a most extraordinary spectacle.

For twelve months he had been immured in the cellar and his beard had grown down to the ground, his hair descended below his shoulders and his finger nails were several inches long. The king wept, too, when he saw his old vizier.

"Ikkor," he said, "for months have I felt that thou wert innocent, and I have missed thy wise counsels. Help me in my difficulty and thou shalt be pardoned."

"Your majesty," said Ikkor, "I desire nothing more than to serve thee.

I am innocent. Time will prove me guiltless."

When he saw Pharaoh's demand, he smiled.

"'Tis easy," he said. "I will go to Egypt and outwit Pharaoh."

He gave orders that four of the tame eagles in the gardens of the palace should be brought to him with cords five hundred ells long attached to their claws. Then he selected four youths, lithe of figure, and trained them to sit on the backs of the eagles and soar aloft. This done, he set out for Egypt with a big caravan and a long retinue of slaves.

"What is thy name?" asked Pharaoh, when he presented himself.

"My name is Akbam, and I am but the lowest of my king's advisers."

"Does thy master then think my demand so simple?" asked Pharaoh.

Ikkor bowed to indicate that this was so, and Pharaoh was much annoyed and puzzled.

"Perform thy task and at once," he commanded.

At a sign from Ikkor, the four youths mounted the eagles which flew aloft to the extremity of their cords. The birds remained in the air two hundred ells apart, as they had been trained, and the lads held cords in the form of a square.

"That is the plan of the palace in the clouds," said Ikkor, pointing aloft. "Bid your men carry up bricks and mortar. The task is so simple that the boys will build."

Pharaoh frowned. He had not expected to be thus outwitted, but he would not immediately acknowledge this.

"In this land," he said, sarcastically, "we use no mortar. We sew the stones together. Canst thou do this?"

"Easily," replied Ikkor, "if your wise men can make me a thread of sand."

"And canst thou weave a thread of sand?" asked Pharaoh.

"I can," responded Ikkor.

Noting the direction of the sun, he bored a tiny hole in the wall, and a thin sunbeam gleamed through. Then, taking a few grains of sand he blew them through the hole and in the sunbeam they seemed like a thread.

"Take it, quickly," he cried, but of course n.o.body could do this.

Pharaoh looked long and earnestly at Ikkor.

"Truly, thou art a man of wisdom," he said. "If he were not dead I should say thou wert Ikkor, the wise."

"I am Ikkor," answered the vizier, and he told the story of his escape.

"I will prove thy innocence," exclaimed Pharaoh. "I will write a letter to your royal master."

Not only did he do so, but he gave Ikkor many valuable presents and the vizier returned to a.s.syria, resumed his place by the king's side, and became a greater favorite than before. Nadan was banished and was never heard of again.

The Pope's Game of Chess

Nearly a thousand years ago in the town of Mayence, on the bank of the Rhine, there dwelt a pious Jew of the name of Simon ben Isaac. Of a most charitable disposition, learned and ever ready to a.s.sist the poor with money and wise counsel, he was reverenced by all, and it was believed he was a direct descendant of King David. Everybody was proud to do him honor.

Simon ben Isaac had one little son, a bright boy of the name of Elkanan, who he intended should be trained as a rabbi. Little Elkanan was very diligent in his studies and gave early promise of developing into an exceptionally clever student. Even the servants in the household loved him for his keen intelligence. One of them, indeed, was unduly interested in him.

She was the Sabbath-fire woman who only came into the house on the Sabbath day to attend to the fires, because, as you know, the Jewish servants could not perform this duty. The Sabbath-fire woman was a devoted Catholic and she spoke of Elkanan to a priest. The latter was considerably impressed.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Thou canst only be my long lost son Elkanan!"

(_Page 224_).]

"What a pity," he remarked, "that so talented a boy should be a Jew.

If he were a Christian, now," he added, winningly, "he could enter the Holy Church and become famous."

The Sabbath-fire woman knew exactly what the priest meant.

"Do you think he could rise to be a bishop?" she asked.

"He might rise even higher--to be the Pope himself," replied the priest.

"It would be a great thing to give a bishop to the Church, would it not?" said the woman.

"It is a great thing to give anyone to the Church of Rome," the priest a.s.sured her.

Then they spoke in whispers. The woman appeared a little troubled, but the priest promised her that all would be well, that she would be rewarded, and that n.o.body would dare to accuse her of doing anything wrong.

Convinced that she was performing a righteous action, she agreed to do what the priest suggested.

Accordingly, the following Friday night when the household of Simon ben Isaac was wrapped in slumber, she crept stealthily and silently into the boy's bedroom. Taking him gently in her arms, she stole silently out of the house and carried him to the priest who was waiting. Elkanan was well wrapped up in blankets, and so cautiously did the woman move that he did not waken.

The priest said not a word. He just nodded to the woman, and then placed Elkanan in a carriage which he had in waiting.

Elkanan slept peacefully, totally unaware of his adventure, and when he opened his eyes he thought he must be dreaming. He was not in his own room, but a much smaller one which seemed to be jolting and moving, like a carriage, and opposite to him was a priest.

"Where am I?" he asked in alarm.

"Lie still, Andreas," was the reply.

"But my name is not Andreas," he answered. "That is not a Jewish name.

I am Elkanan, the son of Simon."

To his amazement, however, the priest looked at him pityingly and shook his head.