might have on the formidable Church party. It would be certain to cause

displeasure among the priesthood; and in those days it was a ticklish

business to offend the priesthood, even for a monarch. And, if

Merolchazzar had a fault, it was a tendency to be a little tactless in

his dealings with that powerful body. Only a few mornings back the High

Priest of Hec had taken the Vizier aside to complain about the quality

of the meat which the King had been using lately for his sacrifices. He

might be a child in worldly matters, said the High Priest, but if the

King supposed that he did not know the difference between home-grown

domestic and frozen imported foreign, it was time his Majesty was

disabused of the idea. If, on top of this little unpleasantness, King

Merolchazzar were to become an adherent of this new Gowf, the Vizier

did not know what might not happen.

The King stood beside the bearded foreigner, watching him closely. The

second stone soared neatly on to the terrace. Merolchazzar uttered an

excited cry. His eyes were glowing, and he breathed quickly.

'It doesn't look difficult,' he muttered.

'Hoo's!' said the bearded man.

'I believe I could do it,' went on the King, feverishly. 'By the eight

green gods of the mountain, I believe I could! By the holy fire that

burns night and day before the altar of Belus, I'm sure I could!

By Hec, I'm going to do it now! Gimme that hoe!'

'Toots!' said the bearded man.

It seemed to the King that the fellow spoke derisively, and his blood

boiled angrily. He seized the hoe and raised it above his shoulder,

bracing himself solidly on widely-parted feet. His pose was an exact

reproduction of the one in which the Court sculptor had depicted him

when working on the life-size statue ('Our Athletic King') which stood

in the principal square of the city; but it did not impress the

stranger. He uttered a discordant laugh.

'Ye puir gonuph!' he cried, 'whitkin' o' a staunce is that?'

The King was hurt. Hitherto the attitude had been generally admired.

'It's the way I always stand when killing lions,' he said. ''In killing

lions,'' he added, quoting from the well-known treatise of Nimrod, the

recognized text-book on the sport, ''the weight at the top of the swing

should be evenly balanced on both feet.''

'Ah, weel, ye're no killing lions the noo. Ye're gowfing.'

A sudden humility descended upon the King. He felt, as so many men were

to feel in similar circumstances in ages to come, as though he were a

child looking eagerly for guidance to an all-wise master--a child,

moreover, handicapped by water on the brain, feet three sizes too large

for him, and hands consisting mainly of thumbs.

'O thou of noble ancestors and agreeable disposition!' he said, humbly.

'Teach me the true way.'

'Use the interlocking grup and keep the staunce a wee bit open and slow

back, and dinna press or sway the heid and keep yer e'e on the ba'.'

'My which on the what?' said the King, bewildered.

'I fancy, your Majesty,' hazarded the Vizier, 'that he is respectfully

suggesting that your serene graciousness should deign to keep your eye

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