We were detained at Joppa three days by a most pouring rain,

which kept us fast prisoners in doors. The time was however

not lost. We had despaired of making arrangements at Joppa for

our journey, any further than such as would take us to

Jerusalem. Joppa is no place for such arrangements. But while

we waited there in the rain, a party of English people arrived

who came to take the steamer for home. They had just ended

their travels in the Holy Land; and while waiting for the

steamer, one of them who was an invalid sought the shelter of

our hotel. We came to know each other. And the end was, we

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secured their travelling equipment. Tents, servants and all,

were made over to papa, with mutual pleasure at the

arrangement. So when the sun shone out on the fourth day, we

were ready to start in great comfort. I had a dear little

Syrian pony, which carried me nicely through my whole journey;

papa had another that served him well. The tents and tent

fittings were in the English style of perfection; cook and

interpreter and other servants knew their business, and we had

no reason to complain of them from the beginning to the end of

our tour. Moreover, in those days of waiting at Joppa, and

intercourse with the ladies of the party, I got from them some

useful hints and details which were of great service to me

afterwards. I had always wished to go through Palestine living

in our own tents; papa had been a little uncertain how he

would do. Now it was settled. I had my maid, of course; but

she was the greatest trouble I had, all the way.

The morning of our setting out from Joppa is never to be

forgotten. It was clear and balmy. For miles we rode through

the orange gardens, getting ready fast for their superb

harvest, which would be ripe a month later. Then through a

pleasant open country; - cornfields and meadows interspersed

with trees in patches. It was easy riding, and I liked my

pony, and my heart was full of exhilaration.

"Well?" said papa, as my eye met his one time in the course of

its wanderings.

"Papa, it is the plain of Sharon!"

"You speak as if it were a place where you had played, when

you were a child."

"Papa, in some measure it is like that; so often I have read

about the old things that were done here."

Papa smiled at me? and asked what? But I could not tell him

while we were going at a canter.

"It would be pretty in spring," he said. "Where are we to stop

to-night, Daisy? I have left all that to you. I do not know

the country as you do."




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