"Dear me! How my head aches," said Esther. "I do wish those dogs would stop barking."

The little girl had been ill for two or three days. The hot days of summer had brought on a fever. The doctor had said, "Keep the child quiet. All she needs is rest. She has played too much in the sunshine."

But how could poor little Esther have quiet? The street dogs were noisy enough in the daytime, but when night came, it seemed as though every single one was wide awake and quarrelling with his neighbours.

"They have no home, and are almost obliged to fight, to get enough to eat. I am sorry for them," said Esther's mother.

She felt more kindly to the dogs than most of the people in Jerusalem. They would have been glad to have the city rid of the creatures.

These street dogs look very much like foxes. They have no homes of their own and almost no friends. Those living in one part of the city are always ready to carry on war against those of every other part.

"Let us take Esther up on the roof," said the little girl's father, one evening. "It is such a hot night, she cannot rest in this close room."

Esther felt better almost as soon as she had been carried up and settled on a soft couch. The roof of the stone house where she lived was flat. Most of the houses around her were built in the same way. Many of the neighbours spent their evenings on the roofs, and often moved from one roof to another to make calls on each other.

Esther had been up there only a few minutes before she had a caller. It was a little girl about her own age. She told Esther some news about one of their playmates. She said:

"Only think of it! Miriam's father has just died. You know, Esther, her mother died so long ago that she doesn't even remember her. What will become of her now? There is no one in the world to take care of her."

Esther was very fond of Miriam, and her heart was full of pity.

She thought of her own comfortable home and then of the many Jews in the city who were very, very poor. Perhaps Miriam would become a beggar! It was a dreadful thought.

Just then Esther's mother came up on the roof. She was dressed in a beautiful yellow robe. A rich girdle belted it in at the waist. She wore large golden hoops in her ears, and a heavy chain around her neck.

"Mamma is as lovely as a queen," thought Esther. "I know papa isn't rich. Still, he has enough and to spare, and we have many nice things. I will ask him and mamma to adopt Miriam. Then I shall have a sister of my own.

"Mamma, dear, I have just heard about Miriam, and now I want to ask you something. Will you take her for your little daughter?"

The mother sat down beside the sick girl. Her face wore a gentle smile.

"My dear, I am glad the thought came to you. You are a sweet, loving child. Do you know, your father and I have just been talking about this very thing. There is nothing our Church praises more highly than the adoption of an orphan. It is called 'A good work.' So we have decided to add one more to our little family."

Esther clapped her hands with joy. "I know I shall get well at once," she cried. "The fever will go away, for I sha'n't have time to think of it."

It was just as she had said. It seemed as though she began to get better from that very moment. She had so much to do trying to entertain her new sister, she did not think of herself.

Miriam was sad at first. She could not help remembering she was an orphan. But her new father and mother were so kind to her, and Solomon and his sister tried so hard to make her happy, she soon forgot to be lonesome and sad.

One day a message came from Rebecca and Levi. They wished all the children to come and visit them. Rebecca wrote:

"We have a new pet, and I know you will be fond of it. It is a beautiful Syrian sheep. Its wool is a soft brown and yellow. Its tail is very broad and flat. It is so tame, it follows me wherever I go.

"Besides," the letter went on, "we have quantities of fresh figs now, and I know you children are very fond of them."

"May we go, mother? Please say 'yes,'" asked Esther.

"If your father is willing," was the answer. "I shall be very lonesome, but it will do you all good to leave the city for awhile and visit our kind friends."

That evening, Esther and Miriam ran to meet their father.

"I wish father had a little farm," said Esther, as the two girls walked arm in arm down the street. "I should think it would be ever so much easier than being a trader."

"I spoke about that once to my other father," said thoughtful little Miriam. "He said that in the good old times our people were generally shepherds or farmers. But nowadays they are almost all traders.

"It is because those who do not believe as we do have treated us so cruelly. They have made it hard for us to hold land. We have been forced to become traders. Our people are scattered all over the world. Father said there is hardly a country without some of them."

"Let us ask papa to tell us stories of old times to-night," said Esther. "There, I see his scarlet robe away down the street now."