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THE FLOWER
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S^cYoRe
By Elizabeth Miller
A Romance of tHe Days
When tHe Lord Redeemed tHe
CHildren of Israel from tHe
Bondage of Egypt v» vf?
CHAPTER I.
Choosing the Tens.
BAR the eastern boundary of
that level region of north
ern Egypt, known as the
Delta, once th ridded by
seven branches of the sea-
hunting Nile, Rameses II,
In the fourteenth century,
B. C.. erected the city of
Pfthom and stored his
treasure therein. His riches
overtaxed its coffers and
he builded Pa-Ramesu, in
part, to hold the overflow.
But he died before tlie
work was completed by' half, and his four
teenth son and successor, Meneptah, took
it up and pushed it with the nomad bond-
people that dwelt In the Delta.
The city was laid out near the centei
of Goshen, a long strip of fertile coun
try given over to the Israelites since the
days of the Hyksos king, Apepa, near the
year 1800 B. C.
Morning in the land of the Hebrew
dawned over level fields, green with un
ripe wheat and meadow grass. Wherever
the. ■soil was better for grazing great flocks
of sheep moved in compact clouds, with
a lank dog and an ancient shepherd fol
lowing them.
The low. shapeless tents and thatched,
hovels of the Israelites stood in the cen
ter of gardens of lentils, garlic and let
tuce. securely hedged against the inroads
of hares and roviag cattle. Close to these
were compounds for the flocks and brush
lnclosures for geese, and cotes for the
pigeons used in sacrifice. Here dwelt
the aged in trusteeship over the land,
while the young arid sturdy bunoed Pa
Kamesu.
Sunrise on the uncompleted city tipped
the raw lines of her half-built walls with
'broken fire and gilded the gear of gigan
tic hoisting cranes. Scaffolding, clinging
to TTald. facades, seemed frail and cob
webby at great height, and slabs of stone,
drawn and held by cables near the sum
mit of chutes, looked like dice on the
giddy slide.
On a slight eminence, overlooking the
camp, ^ere numerous small structures of
sun-dried (brick, grouped about one of
larger dimensions. Above this was raised
a military standard, a hawk upon a cross
bar, from which hung party-c.oi ed tas
sels of linen floss. By this sign, the or
der of government was denoted. The He
brews were under martial law.
Before one of the tents an old woman
Knelt beside a bed of live coals, turning
a browning water fowl upon a pointed
stick.
Thene “ill Tittle inside the tent, except
the meagerest essential furnishing. A
long amphora stood in a tamarisk rack
In one-corner; a linen napkin hung, pin
ned to the tent-cloth, over it: a glazed
laver and a small box sat beside it. A
ma*' 0+ braided reds, the handiwork of
the ol(l Israelite, covered the naked earth.
This served as seat or table for the oc
cupants. Several wisps of straw were
scattered about and a heap of it, over
which a cotton cloak had been thrown,
lay in one corner.
“Rachel,” the old woman said briskly.
Evidently some one slept under the
straw, for the heap stirred.
“Rachel!” the old woman reiterated,
drawing off the cloak.
Without any preliminary pushing away
of the straw', a young girl sat up. A lit
tle bewildered, she divested her head and
shoulders of a frowny straw thatch and
stood erect, shaking off from her single
short garment.
She was not more than sixteen years
old. Above meuium height and of nobler
proportions than the typical woman of
her race, her figure was remarkable for
its symmetry and utter grace. The stamp
of the countenance was purely Semitic,
except that she was distinguished, most
wondrously In color, from her kind. Her
sleep had left its exquisite heaviness on
ej es of the tenderest blue, and the lux
uriant 'hair she pushed back from her
face was a fleece of gold. Hers was that
rare complexion that docs not tan. The
sun but grightened her hair and wrought
the hue of health in 'her cheeks. Her fore
head was low. broad, and white as mar
ble; her neck and arms white, and the
hands, busied with the hair, were
strong, soft, dimpled and white. The
grace of her womanhood had not been
overcome by the slave-labor, which she
had known from infancy.
She went to the amphora and poured
water into the laver, drew forth from
the box a horn comb and a vial of pow
dered soda from the Natron Bakes, and
proceeded with her toilet.
“Came some one?” she asked presently.
Deborah pointed to the smoking bowl.
Rachel inspeete- the fowl.
"Marsh-hen!" she cried In suprprise. *
“Atsu brought It."
Rachel smiled.
"Thou are best from a new direction,”
the old woman continued dryly, “but
thou hast naught to fear from him."
“Nay! I know,” Rachel murmured, ar
ranging her dress.
“He would wed thee, after the manner
of thy people and take thee from among
Israel," Deborah continued.
The girl drooped her 'head over the
lacing of her habit and made no answer.
The old woman looked at her sharply
l'or a moment.
“Well, eat; Rachel, eat,” she urged at
last. “The marsh-hen will stand thee In
good stead and thou hast a weary day
before thee.”
Rachel looked at the old woman and
made, mental comparison between the an
cient figure and her strong, young self.
With great deliberation site divided the
fowl into a large and small part.
“This,” she said, extending the larger
to Deborah. “Is thine. Take it,” waving
aside the protests of the old woman,
“or the first taste of it will choke me.”
Deborah submitted duly and consumed
the tender morsel while she watched
Rachel break her fast.
“What said Atsu?” Rachel asked, af
ter the marshhen was less apparent.
“Little, which is his way. But his
every word was worth a harangue in
weight. Merenra and Ills purple-wearing
visitor, the spoiler, the pompous wolf,
departed for Pit horn last nignt. hastily
summoned thither by . a royal message.
But the commander returns tomorrow
at sunset. This morning every tenth
Hebrew in Pa-Ramesu is to be chosen
and son t to the quarries Atsu will
send thee and me. whether we fall
among the tens of a truth or not. So
we get out of the city ere Merenra re
turns. He called the ruse a cruel one
and not wholly safe, but he would sooner
see thee dead than despoiled by this
guest of Merenra’s—or any other. I
doubt not his heart breaketh for thy
sake, Rachel, and he would rend himself
to spare thee."
“The Lord God bless him.” the girl
murmured earnestly.
CHAPTER II.
Under Ban of the Ritual.
Holj- Memphis, city of Apis, habitat
of Ptah'
To the souTn and west of her the
Libyan hills notched the horizon. To
the e ist trie bald summits of the Ara
bian desert cut oft the traveling sand
in its march on the capital. .o the
north was a shimmering level that
stretched unbroken to the sea. Set upon
this at mid-distance, the pyramids up
lifted their stupendous forms.
Out of a crevice between the heights
fo the south the broad blue Nile rolled,
sweeping past one hundred and twenty
stadia or sixteen miles of urban magnifi
cence, and lost itself in the shimmering
sky-line to the north.
The city was walled on the north, west
and" south, and its river front was pro
tected by a mighty dike, built by Mentis,
the first king of the first dynasty in the
hour of chronological daybreak. Within
were orderly squares, cross-cut by ave
nues and relieved of these shady
demesnes rose the great white temples
of Ptah and Apis, and the palaces of
the various Memphian Pharaohs.
About these, the bazars and resi
dences. facade above facade, and tier
upon tier, ns the land sloped up to Its
center, shone faTT and white under a
cloudless sun.
Memphis was at the pinnacle of her
greatness in the sixth year of the reign
of the divine Meneptah. She had forti
fied nerself and resisted the great inva
sion of the Rebu. Her generals had
done battie with him and brought him
home chained to their chariots.
And after the festivities in celebration
of her prowess, she laid down pike and
falchion, bull-hide shield and helmet, and
took up the chisel and brush, the spindle
and loom once more.
The heavy drowsiness of a mid-winter
noon had depopulated her booths ancl
bazars and quieted the quaint traffic of
her squares. In the shadows of the eity
her porters drowsed, and from the con
tinuous wall of houses blankly facing
one another from either side of the
streets, there, came no sound. Each
household sought the breezes on the bal
conies tlytt gallerled the inner walls of
the courts, or upon the .pillared and
canopied housetops.
Memphis had eaten and drunk and,
sheltered behind her screens, waited for
the noon to pass. Mentu, the king's
sculptor, however, had not availed him
self of the hour of ease. He did not
labor because he must, for his house
stood in the aristocratic portion of
Memphis, and it was storied, gnlleried.
screened and topped w!»h its breezy
pavilion.
So Mentu labored because he loved to
toil. He. towered a palm in height over
his^Egyptian brethren, and his massive
frame was entirely in keeping with his
majestic stature. He was nearly fifty
years of age, hut no sign of the early
decay of the Oriental was apparent in
him. His was the characteristic refine
ment of feature that marks the Egyptian
countenance, further accentuated by self
content and some hauteur.
That he was a.n artisan noble was an
other peculiarity, bu-t it was proof of
exceptional merit. He had descended
from a long line or royal sculptors,
lightening In genius in the last three.
In the line of his ancestors he counted
a king, and from that royal sire he had
his stature.
The sculptor, rapidly and without ef
fort, worked out with his pen on a sheet
of papyrus the detail of a frieze. Tiny
profile figures, quaint borders of lotus
and mystic inscriptions trailed after the
swift reed in multitudinous and bewilder
ing succession. As he worked, a young
man entered the doorway from the court
and, advancing a few steps toward the
table, watched the development of the
drawings with interest.
This young Egyptian, nearly eighteen,
was grown atid powerful with the might
of mature manhood. A glance at the
pair at once established their relationship
as father and eon. The features were
strikingly similar, the stature the same,
though the young frafne was supple and
light, not massive.
The hair was straight, abundant, bril
liant black and cropped midway down the
neck and just above the brows. There
was no effort at parting. It was dressed
from the crown of the head as each hair
would naturally He and was confined by
a circlet of gold, the token of the royal
blood of his mother's house. The com
plexion was the “ue of a healthy tan.
different, however, from the brown of
exposure in that it was transparent and
the red in the cheek was dusky. The
face was the classic typo of the race, for
be it known there were two phj-slog-
nomies characteristic of Egypt.
The forehead was broad, the brows long
and delicately penciled, the eyes softly
black, very long, the lids heavy enough
to suggest serenity rather than languor.
The nose Was of good length, aquiline,
the nostril thin and sharply chiseled. The
cut of tiie mouth and the warmth of its
color gave seriousness, sensitiveness and
youthful tenderness to the face.
Originally the young man had been
gifted with breadth of shoulder, depth of
chest, health and vigor. He would have
been strong had he never vaulted a pole
or run a mile. To these advantages were
added the results of wise and thorough
training, so wise, so thorough, that de
fects in the national physique had been
remedied. Thus the caives were stanch
and prominent, whereas ancient Egypt
was as flat-legged as the negro; the body
was round and tapered with proper ath
letic rapidity from shoulder to heel, with
out any sign of the lank attenuation that
was characteristic of most of his coun
trymen.
The suggestion of his presence was
power and bigness, not the good-natured
size that is hulking and awkward, but
bigness that in elegant and fine-flbered
and ages Into magnificence.
“Hast thou caught some great idea on
the wing or hast thou the round of ac
tual labor to perform?” he asked.
His attention thus hailed, the sculptor
raised himself and answered;
"Meneptah hath a temple to Set. the
war god, in mind; Indeed he hath stirred
up the quarries for the stone, 1 am told,
and I am making ready, for I shall be
needed.”
■Hath the sun shone on architecture
or sculpture since Meneptah succeeded
to the throne?” the young man asked.
Mentu's eyes brightened wrathfullv. but
the young man laid a soothing palm over
the hand that gripped the reed.
“I do not mock thee, father. Rather am
I full of sympathy for thee.”
Somewhat mollified, M-ntu went on
with his work. Presently uie young man
spoke again.
“I came to speak further of the signet
of the Incomparable Pharaoh.”
“What! after three, years, Kenkenes?”
“The sanctuary of the tomb is never
entered and it Is more than worth the
journey to Tape (“Thebes) to search for
the scarab again."
“Bui you would search in vain.” the
sculptor declared. “Rameses has reclaim
ed his own."
“But we made no great search for it.
How may we know of a surety if it be
gone?"
“Because of thy sacrilege.” was the
prompt and forcible reply. “Osiris with
chin in hand and a look of mystification
on his brow, pondering over the mis
deeds of a soui! Thou didst, affront the
sacred walls of the royal tomb and call
it the Judgment of the Dead. Not one
law of the sculptor’s ritual hut thou
hadst broken, in the. sacrilegious fresco."
“The scarab may 'have caught on thy
chisel and broken from Its fastening.
“The hand of the insulted Pharaoh
reached out of Amenti, the realm of
death, and stripped it off my neck."
Me.ntu replied sternly. "Ami consider
what I and all of mine who come after
me lost in that foolish act of thine. It
was a token of special favor from Ram
eses. a mark of appreciation of mine art,
and, more than ail. a signet that I or
mine might present to (him of his suc
cessor and win royal good will there
by."
"That I know right well." Kenkenes
interrupted with an anxious note in his
voice, “and for that reason am I pos
sessed to go after it to Tape."
Mimetic art as applied to Egyptian
painting and sculpture was a. curious
misnomer. Probably no other nation of
the world at that time was so devoted
to it, and certainly no other people of
equal advancement of that or any other
time so wilfully ignored the simplest
rules of proposition, perspective and
form. The sculptor's ability to suggest
majesty and repose, and at the same
time ignore anatomical construction, was
wonderful. To preserve the features.and
individual characteristics of a model
and obey the rules of convention was i_
feat to be achieved only by an Egyptian.
There was no lack of genius in him. but
he had been denied liberty of execution
until lie knew no other forms but those
his fathers followed generations before.
Presently Mentu, raising his head, not
ed that the shadows were falling aslant
the court. With an interested but inar
ticulate remark, he dropped his pen
among his fellows in an earthenware
tray,, his 'plans into an Otnen chest, and
went out across the court, entering an
oppos te door.
With his father's exit, Kenkenes shift
ed his position, and the expression of
deep thought grew on his face. After a
iong interval of motionless absorption he
sprang to his feet and, catching a wal
let of stamped and dyed leather from tee
wall spread it open on the table. Chisel,
mallet, tape and knife, he put into it
and dropped wallet and all into a box
nearby at the sound of the sculptor's
footsteps.
The great artist reentered in court
robes of creamv linen stiff with em
broidery and go'.d stitching.
' Hiir-hat passes through Memphis to
day on his way to Tape, where he is to
be installed as bearer of the king's fan
on the right hand. He is at the palace,
and nobles of the city go thither to wait
upon hint.”
“The king was not long in choosing a
successor to the lamented Aniset," Ken
kenes observed. “Har-hat vaults loftilv
from the nomarchship of Bubastis to an
advisership to the Pharaoh."
“Rather hatli his ascent been slower
than his deserts.”
“Who succeeds him over Bubastis?”
“Merenra, another of the war-tried
generals. He hath been commander over
Pa-Ramesu. Atsu takes his place over
the Israelites.”
“Atsu?" Kenkenes mused. “I know him
not."
CONTINUED ON LAST PAGE.
^
How Lady Gowan Was Entertained
By Jeanette Cooper
The Sunny South’s Short Story Serie 5
by Well'Known Jtuthors
KNEW when we let Amy
(go abroad that we were
baying up trouble for our
selves."
Kate was scribbling
away furiously as she
spoke, tucked up at one
end of the hammock, a,
block of paper on her
knees, and a. stubby pen
cil between her first two
fingers.
Mrs. Bailey, the sister
from Omaha, who was ac
cused by the others of having social
aspirations, spoke persuasively;
“Now, Kit," she said, “you Wouldn't
want the Radcilffs to monopolize Lady
Gowan:" and then there was a shout
of laughter, in which she joined, fo r the
Rack-Jiffs might have basked in the ex
clusive light of Lady Gowan's society
.forever without objection on Kit’s part.
“It (will be for only one afternoon.'*
suggested Mrs. Osborne; while Amy put
her pretty head down on the cherished
manuscript an>l said; “But, Kit, they
•were nice to me in London." which set
tled it.
And just then Mildred Radoliff came
across the lawn.
Mildred always crossed the lawn instead
r,f going around by the walk. She could
quite see herself as a slender, white-
robed figure, moving under the greenery.
Mildred oscillated between the esthetic
and the conventional, and just now, in
spite of the picturesque passage across
the grass, the conventional was in the
ascendant. She wore a gentle smile, and
wa.s trying hard to keep excited self-
importance OTft of her tone.
“Lady Gowan and her son arrived this
evening!” she said. "The Burtons gave
them a letter to Us, you know.”
They did know, having heard it from
each member of the Radcliffe family.
“I don’t see why they .want to come
to this stupid little place," she went on
after a polite murmur from Mrs. Os
borne; “I am afraid the Burtons have
made us out a more interesting family
than me claim to be.”
"Impossible!" sotto voce from the boy
to his nearest cousin.
“Of course we shall do rwhat we can. I
want you to come over tomorrow' after
noon. Amv. They will probably remem
ber you.”
“Perhaps,” said Amy modestly.
"Remember her?" echoed the boy. ‘ Do
you suppose any one could forget her l
In my opinion—"
“Don’t notice him, Mildred,” interrupt
ed Amy gently: “he babbles." At which
ungrateful remark he tipped her chair
forward and slid her gently to the porch
floor.
"You are the most unconventional fam
ily," said Miss Radcliffe in a tone that
plainly meant undignified. “I*f I bring
Lady Gowan here to call, you’ll have lo
■promise to behave," with a little laugh
to temper the severity of her rebuke.
“Don't worry. Mildred.” Mrs. Osborne
hastened to forestall any remark from
Kate. “1 am going to send Jack home
if he isn’t good. He was invited to stay
only during good behavior.’*
“Then he ought to have .gone home be
fore he came," said Amy, smiling up at
the tall young cousin.
"The son 1» only plain Mr. Gowan, you
know.”
“Thank you ao much,” Kate could not
be suppressed any longer. “I was un
settled as to whether I should address
him as ‘Your Lordship’ or ’Sire.’ ”
“Good boy! At him again!” whispered
Jack, applaudingly.
“I hope you'll wea-r your blue, Amy.
It looks more elegant than Just muslin,
and English people are so—”
“Exactly!” began Kate; but Mm Os
borne tossed a rose she had been hold
ing into her sister's lap, and Kate re
lapsed into silence. As Jack said. Ma
rion always had somethin® ready to
throw at the family genius. Under the
circumstances, he felt (called upon to
speak.
“We are going to look over our things
this afternoon,” he began in a loud,
cheerful tone, “and fit the poor girl out
I’ve a pair of galluses the cook gave me
last Christmas—blue embroidered—just
the thing to catch a noble eye."
"Must you go, Mildred?" murmured
Mrs. Osborne as the guest arose In the
midst of Jack's eloquence.
"Yes, I’ve a dozen things to do. I
shall expect you at 4, Amy, In your
blue," and with a graceful inclination
Miss Radcliffe departed.
“Really, I think we shall have to drop
Mildred,” said Jack, sinking wearily into
the hammock and unsetting Kate’s pa
pers and plans. “She doesn’t belong.”
”1 should like to entertain those peo
ple nicely,” said Marlon, apropos of noth
ing.
“Something simple, but choice," sup
plemented Betty.
“Something to mark the contrast be
tween the old families of the town and
the nouveaux riches," assented Jack with
his cheerful smile.
“What sort of woman is Lady Gowan.
Amy?"
“Not a bit snobbish: that is about all
I know. May Jones says she is very
sentimental—likes Miss Braudon, and
revels In people’s love affairs. At the
same time she doesn’t want any girl to
look at her son.”
"Her son is plain Mr. Gowan, you
know.” interjected Jack.
“She is rather an imposing old lady,
but the son Is very friendly and jolly.”
“Did you look at her son?" reproved
Jack.
“Only occasionally," laughed Amy. “Go
and make some lemonade, Jack, while
your elders prepare to entertain the
Go wans.”
Amy was on the side-porch the next
morning washing out some lace ruffles
for the afternoon’s muslin and singing
“Bonnie Dundee.”
Suddenly around the big syringa bush
that screened her from the street ap
peared a young man.
”1 heard your voice,” he said, “so I
Just came around. You don't mind, do
you?”
Amy gave an Involuntary glance at the
faded blue calico that clothed her youth
ful form.
”No-o, I think not.” she said, blushing
a trifle and devoutly wishing she 'had
not sung so loud.
"Your tone is doubtful, and you have
not offered to shake hands. Therefore l
must go away," and he seated himself
upon the top step and looked up at her
with a satisfied expression.
He was a good looking youtl^ broad-
shouldered and straight featured, with
the girl's complexion that nature bestows
on both sexes Indiscriminately In the
British isles.
•'We are stopping at the top of the
street.” he said, watching her interest
edly as she rinsed her laces and sat down
beside him to puU them dry.
“I suppose you mean that you are
staying at the end of the street.’
“In your patois, yes. In English pure
and undeflled. we are stopping at the
top of the street.
Amy laughed.
“It is quite too warm to teach you
your mother tongue in half an hour,"
sho said. >
He opened his eyes.
•’What put that idea into your head?"
he demanded.
“What Idea?"
•‘That I am remaining only harr an
hour. I assure you I have no other en
gagement for the day.”
“But I have.” she laughed.
"Have you. really!” regret in his tone.
"Yes; I am Invited this afternoon to
Miss Radcliffe’s to meet Laoy Gowan and
Mr. Gowan.”
“Jove! I had forgotten,” with a glance
at her as sufficient explanation. “But.
I say, you're not going to make me go
away in half an hour because of a gar
den party at I o'clock. There's a good
bit of time before that, and the mater,
by Jove, there is the mater! Two lo
nothing she's coming here.”
“How does she know?” becran Amy,
but her voice died away. The portly
came in black and rustling attire was
already at the. gate. Now she was going
tip the walk to the front porch, and Kate
was on the front porch, copying one of
the tales that she sent out so (hopefully
and received back so philosophically.
Kate was quite capable of not recog
nizing nobility when it interrupted the
flow of genius. It was a dilemma,
loung Gowan, with amusement on his
features, was watching Amy.
A long pause followed, while Amy lis
tened anxiously and her companion Kept
his eyes on her pretty, perplexed face
with evident enjoyment.
Presently.
“Yes. it Is much pleasanter here In the
garden, isn't it?” said Lady Gowan, and
sfhe and Kate came across the lawn and
tat down in the rustic chairs before the
syringa bush. “You Americans are so
keen about your piazzas; now at home
we like better just sitting in the garden. '
She leaned back and untied her bonnet
strings. “Don’t trouble to call Miss
Palmer now; she Is busy, I dare say.”
“Isn't she, though?” whispered her
ladyship’s son, but the whisper sounded
alarmingly loud In the stillness, and
CONTINUED ON LAST PAGE