My holiday began on board the steamer, among the novel
varieties of character and costume by which I found myself
surrounded. I was certainly getting far away from the American
war, far from Parisian saloons; I could not even regret the
Dome of Florence. And I shall never forget the minute when I
first looked upon the coast of Jaffa. I had been in the cabin
and papa called me; and with the sight, a full, delicious
sensation of pleasure entered my heart, and never left it, I
think, while I stayed in the land. The picture is all before
me. The little white town, shining in the western sun on its
hill, with its foot in the water; the surf breaking on the
rocks; and the long line of high land in the distance, which I
knew was the hill country of Palestine. I was glad, with a
fulness of gladness. Even the terrors of landing through the
surf could not dash my pleasure, though the water was not
quiet enough to make it safe, and I did not see how we were
possibly to get through. I thought we would, and we did; and
then out of the confusion on the quay we found our way to a
nice little hotel. Few things I suppose are nice in Jaffa; but
this really seemed clean, and I am sure it was pleasant. The
Oriental style of the house - the courtyard, and alcove rooms,
stone floors and cushioned divans, - were delightful to me.
And so was our first dinner there; papa and I alone, tired and
hungry, and eating with the Mediterranean full in sight, and
the sun going down "ayont the sea." I established a truce with
sorrowful thoughts that evening, and slept the night through
in peace. The next morning papa found me standing at the
window of one of our rooms that looked inward from the sea.
"Well, Daisy," said he, putting his hands on my shoulders - "I
have got my Daisy of ten years old back again. What is it
now?"
"Oh, papa," I exclaimed, "look at the housetops! I have read
of housetops all my life; and now here they are!"
"They have been here all the time, Daisy."
"But - it is so impossible to realise without seeing it, papa.
It was on such a housetop that Peter was when he had his
vision. You can see, it is the pleasantest part of the house,
papa. I should like to sleep on the housetop, as they do in
summer; with only the stars over me. How nice!"
"What was Peter's vision, besides the stars?"
"Papa! Not the stars; his vision was at noonday. I have just
been reading about it. How delicious the Bible will be here!"
"It is always delicious to you, I think," papa said; I fancied
rather sadly. "It is a taste you were born with. Sit down and
read me about that vision."