"This old man, famed for devotion and miracles, did not like women, I know not why; he even dreaded them. Very frequently he described the perversity of women, and once, to show how great the power is which ye wield over men, he told me the following history:-- "A certain scribe, young and indigent, who had not an uten in his purse, who had nothing save a barley cake, travelled down from Thebes to Lower Egypt while seeking for employment. Men said that in the north dwelt the richest lords and merchants, and that in case of luck he would find a place in which he might acquire extensive property. "He walked along the Nile, for he had no coin with which to hire a boat, and he pondered,-- "'How improvident are men inheriting a talent or two, or even ten talents! Instead of adding to their wealth by traffic, or by lending at high interest,' thought he, 'these men waste what they have, to no purpose. Had I a drachma,--well, one drachma is too little,--but had I one talent, or, better, a plot of land, I would increase it yearly, and toward the end of life I should be as wealthy as the wealthiest nomarch. "'But how begin!' said he, sighing. 'Only fools are favored by the gods; and I am filled with wisdom from my wig to my two naked heels. If in my heart a grain of dulness lurks, it is perhaps my inability to squander, and I should not even know how to set about a work so godless in its object.' "As the needy scribe was thus musing, he passed a mud hut at which sat some man, neither old nor young, with a very keen glance, which reached to the depth of whatever heart came before him. The scribe, as wise as a stork, thought at once that this must be some divinity; so he bowed down and said to him,-- "'I greet thee, worthy master of this splendid mansion. I grieve that I have neither meat nor wine, so as to divide them between us, in sign that I respect thee, and that whatever I own is thy property.' "This kindness of the scribe was pleasing to Amon, for he it was, in human aspect. He looked at the scribe, and inquired of him,-- "'Of what wert thou thinking while passing along here? for I see wisdom on thy forehead, and I am of those who seize words of truth as partridges pick up wheat kernels.' "The scribe sighed. "'I was thinking,' said he, 'of my misery, and of those frivolous rich men who spend their wealth without knowing why or in what manner.' "'And wouldst thou not waste wealth?' inquired the god, retaining human semblance.