Letters from the Holy land . e fronts only are of masonry. We visitedthe Mensa Christi, which interested us but little,as it savours too much of the pious fraud, andthen the site of Josephs workshop. We were disappointed in the position of ourcamp, as other travellers had forestalled us ingetting better places, and the best of all was be-spoken for the great French pilgrimage expectedon the morrow. On this account we settled not to tarry atNazareth and to send the heavy column back toJerusalem in the morning. We are only one daysjourney from Caifa, our place of embarkation. AsI was looking at
Letters from the Holy land . e fronts only are of masonry. We visitedthe Mensa Christi, which interested us but little,as it savours too much of the pious fraud, andthen the site of Josephs workshop. We were disappointed in the position of ourcamp, as other travellers had forestalled us ingetting better places, and the best of all was be-spoken for the great French pilgrimage expectedon the morrow. On this account we settled not to tarry atNazareth and to send the heavy column back toJerusalem in the morning. We are only one daysjourney from Caifa, our place of embarkation. AsI was looking at the town from our tent door atthe time of the Angelus, the bells of the Churchover Marys house suddenly rang out a carillon,and the tune was that very one we used to hearwhen A. and I were five and six years old on ourdear Genoese Riviera I I had not heard that tunesince those days. Later on I watched the full NAZARETH AT SUNRISE The church with spire to the left stands over the siteof Josephs workshop, and near Marys LEITERS FROM THE HOLY LAND 69 moon rising over those mountain outlines wliichOur Lord looked on every day of His hidden lifeat Nazareth, and then turned and saw the townwhite in the moonbeams on its dark hillside. Satiirdatj, 9,5Ih April. We started later than usual, as W. had to closeaccounts with the heavy column and send atelegram to Alexandria to warn them of ourimpending return. There was a heavy dew. Imade a sunrise sketch of the town. A gloriousride we had to Carmel, steeped in the poetry ofthe Old Testament. Carmel is one mass of oak-trees. There we met the vast host of the Frenchpilgrims coming from Caifa and beginning theirexperiences of Palestine. We met amicably at theshady halting-place and exchanged a few words ofcamaraderie, and we watched them depart towardsNazareth, each company headed by a banner. Onour way to Caifa we crossed the Kishon again, nownear its mouth, flowing through a lovely plain,bordered, near the sandhills that skirt the s
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