“And the seven ears of corn and the seven thin cows that Pharaoh dreamt about,” returned Rachel, entering into the spirit of the game.
“The story of the Seven Sleepers.”
“The Seven Champions of Christendom,” added Rachel, who had just read the book. “Oh, there are thousands of sevens. I can think of lots more in a minute.”
“It’s my turn now,” was the old man’s answer. “The Seven Wonders of the World.”
“I never heard of them. What are they?” Rachel demanded.
Again the old man pointed to the stone. “That gateway would lead you to one of them,” he said, quietly, “if, as I’m beginning to think, you’re one of the lucky children.”
THE ROSETTA STONE
“Do lucky children have a lot to do with seven? Because if so, I ought to be one, oughtn’t I? It’s funny I never thought about it before, but there’s a seven in everything that has to do with me! And—”
“We’ll try,” interrupted the little old man. “Shut your eyes and bow seven times in the direction of this stone. Never mind this lady”—for Rachel had quite suddenly remembered the curious silence of her governess. “She won’t miss you. You may do as I tell you without fear.”