speak. "What troubles you, my son?" asked Subro, noticing his silence.
"Father, I should like to see the Rajah and take him a present," said Rhamon, with a great sigh.
"Allah is wise, and understanding. He is good to those who worship him faithfully," said Subro, smiling into his black beard.
Rhamon did not understand exactly what his father meant, but he was sure he had said all his prayers.
When they reached home, Rhamon was weary and his foot ached from climbing many stairs. So he sat down in his favorite corner to watch his mother cook the evening supper. As she rolled out the chuppaties she sang, and Rhamon, listening, dropped off to sleep. He dreamed of the great Rajah with the blazing jewel on his turban. When his mother gently shook his shoulder to wake him for supper, he was happy, for in his dream the Rajah had smiled to him, to Rhamon, the little lame boy.
