in which the Lord washed the disciples' feet and partook of the Last
Supper; the tomb of the wayward, long-haired Absalom, and the mausoleum
that covers the resting-place of his father, King David; the footprint
of Jesus in the rock and the hole made by His staff on the Mount of
Olives; the imprints of the Savior's feet in the rocky floor made during
the time of the scourging; the site of the house in which the Virgin
lived with the disciple John after the Crucifixion.

Palestine was noted in olden times as a land flowing with milk and
honey. At the Casa Nova we drank of the milk, the milk of the
black-haired goats that fed along the hillsides, and ate of the honey,
which was of delicious flavor. The Syrian waiters who served our meals
and also cared for our bedrooms were picturesquely dressed in long gowns
of blue striped material falling to their ankles, and encircled with
bright sashes, and these men at all times, whether making beds or
serving tables, wore on their heads the red fez of Turkish subjects. The
managers of the Hospice, the Franciscan monks, wore the garb in which
the monks of that order are always seen, brown gown, rope girdle, rosary
with pendant cross, and sandals.

On Sunday a cold rain fell during the day, making it unpleasant for
sight-seeing and confining the travelers to the house during most of the
day.

"How disappointing this is to be kept in the house by the rain,"
exclaimed a discontented tourist while watching the rain drops glide
down the window-pane.

"Have you thought," said another who was busily engaged with guide-book
and pencil, "that until to-day not one unpleasant day has interfered
with our trip? The temperature has been neither uncomfortably warm nor
disagreeably cold, but just delightful for the exertion of
sight-seeing."

The tourists having made a request for some heat in the house, one of
the gowned Arab servants carried a brazier into the reception room,
placed a handful of charcoal in it and lighted a fire. As we gathered
around the little fire trying to warm our hands, one could realize the
scene many centuries ago, in the Palace of Caiaphas, when the soldiers
coming in at midnight from the cold hills, kindled a fire in the midst
of the hall, and Peter, shivering from cold and fear, joined the group
around the brazier to warm himself.

"I have been trying for the past three days," remarked an elderly
clergyman, "to realize that these bare hills were once 'a land flo