Between six and seven hundred years after the time of Tutankhamen, the funeral of Eiorhoreru, prince of Heliopolis, could not be completed because Ka. amenhotep, prince of Mendes, had stolen his funerary breastplate. Pimay, the son of the dead prince, has to win the corselet back in a tournament before he can get his father buried with the proper ceremonies. A matter of seven hundred years is nothing in the life of an Egyptian custom; and there can be little doubt that the corselet of Tutankhamen is just such a ceremonial breastplate as that for whose possession Pimay and his allies fought in tourney against Ka. amenhotep and his friends, with Pedubast of Tanis, overlord of the Delta, as judge of the passage of arms. Among the other articles of royal wearing apparel were the magnificent sandals with their decoration of golden ducks’ heads and gold roundels. The leather of the sandals had almost entirely perished with the lapse of time, being turned into a substance more like glue; but it retained sufficient tenacity to hold the decorative work together, and to let us see how magnificently a Pharaoh of the Empire was shod and how gorgeous were the feet before which the vassal kings of Syria and the Soudan bowed down, “seven times and seven times.” Interesting too, in their own way, were the child’s linen glove, and the child’s tippet, of linen with sequin decoration. Speculation has framed, on the basis of the small size of these and other articles, the theory that the king died in early youth, in fact when he had scarcely emerged from childhood. We know nothing, however, of the reason for the presence of these articles in the tomb; and the foundation for such speculations is far too slight to bear the weight of inference which it is sought to rear upon it. From other and more satisfactory reasons it has been inferred that Tutankhamen died in early maturity; but that is a different matter.