Daisy In The Field - Page 147/231

"Daisy!" - papa called to me when I was on the roof one day. I

ran down.

"What are you doing up there?"

"I was looking, papa. I was studying topography."

"Let us go out and study it a little by actual survey. I think

a walk would do me good."

We went down first to the valley of the Kedron, and wandered

about there; sometimes sitting down under the shade of the

olive trees to rest; speculating upon localities, recalling

scenes of history; wondering at the path which descends into

the valley from St. Stephen's gate and goes on over the Mount

of Olives to Bethany. Above all things, that path held my

eyes. No doubt the real path that was travelled eighteen

centuries ago lay deep beneath many feet of piled-up rubbish;

but the rubbish itself told a tale; and the path was there.

After a long stay in the valley, we mounted the hill again,

where our temporary home was; and passing that, went on to the

height of the hill. There we sat down. The westering sun was

casting lines of light all over the landscape, which would be

soon floods of colour. Papa and I sat down to look and wait.

"It certainly is worth coming for," said papa. "Our journey

realises more than all I had hoped from it, Daisy."

"I am so glad, papa!"

"But you, Daisy, how is it with you? You seem to me a little,

and not a little, distraite."

"I have so much to think of, papa."

"More than I have?"

"Why, yes, papa," I said, half laughing. "I think so."

"You must have fields of speculation unknown to me, Daisy."

"Yes, papa. Some time I want to talk to you about them."

"Isn't now a good time?" said papa, carelessly.

I was silent a while, thinking how to begin. It was a good

time, I knew, and I dared not let it pass. I had been waiting

till Mr. Dinwiddie should have left us and papa and I be quite

alone; and he was to join us again as soon as we started on

our northward journey. Now was my best opportunity. All the

more, for knowing that, my heart beat.

"Papa," I began, "may I ask you a few questions, the better to

come at what I want?"

"Certainly. Your questions, Daisy, I have always found

stimulating."

"Then first, what is it you think of most, in looking over

from this place to Jerusalem?"

"Of course," said papa, rousing himself, "the prominent

thought must be the wonderful scene that was acted there

eighteen hundred years ago; not the course of history before

or after. Is that what you mean?"

"I mean that, papa. I mean the death of Christ. Papa, what was

that for?"