Then he and his rulers did a wicked thing. They made the Israelites
slaves. And they gave them terrible tasks to do, without proper rest, or
food, or clothes. For they hoped that the hardship would kill off the
Israelites. They thought the old men would die and the young men be so
ill and weary that they could not bring up families, and so the race
would dwindle away.

But in spite of the work and suffering, the Israelites remained strong,
and more and more boys grew up, to make the king afraid.

Then he did the most wicked thing of all. He ordered his soldiers to
kill every boy baby that should be born in an Israelitish family; he did
not care about the girls, because they could not grow up to fight.

Very soon after this wicked order, a boy baby was born in a certain
Israelitish family. When his mother first looked at him her heart was
nearly broken, for he was even more beautiful than most babies are,--so
strong and fair and sweet. But he was a boy! How could she save him from
death?

Somehow, she contrived to keep him hidden for three whole months. But at
the end of that time, she saw that it would not be possible to keep him
safe any longer. She had been thinking all this time about what she
should do, and now she carried out her plan.

First, she took a basket made of bulrushes and daubed it all over with
pitch, so that it was water-tight, and then she laid the baby in it;
then she carried it to the edge of the river and laid it in the flags by
the river's brink. It did not show at all, unless one were quite near