Pearl-Maiden: A Tale of the Fall of JerusalemHaggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider)
History
Pearl-Maiden: A Tale of the Fall of Jerusalem
Haggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider)
Historical fiction; Jerusalem -- History -- Fiction
Further, and perhaps this was the best part of her education, she lived
in the daily company of Nature. But a mile or two away spread the Dead
Sea, and along its melancholy and lifeless shores, fringed with the
white trunks of trees that had been brought down by Jordan, she would
often walk. Before her day by day loomed the mountains of Moab, while
behind her were the fantastic and mysterious sand-hills of the desert,
backed again by other mountains and that grey, tormented country which
stretches between Jericho and Jerusalem. Quite near at hand also ran
the broad and muddy Jordan, whose fertile banks were clothed in spring
with the most delicious greenery and haunted by kingfishers, cranes,
wildfowl, and many other birds. About these banks, too, stretching into
the desert land beyond, the flowers of the field grew by myriads, at
different periods of the year carpeting the whole earth with various
colours, brilliant as are those of the rainbow. These it was her
delight to gather, and even to cultivate in the garden of her house.
Thus wisdom, earthly and divine, was gathered in Miriam’s heart till
very soon its light began to shine through her eyes and face, making
them ever more tender and beautiful. Nor did she lack charm and grace
of person. From the first, in stature she was small and delicate, pale
also in complexion; but her dark hair was plenteous and curling, and
her eyes were large and of a deep and tender blue. Her hands and feet
were very slender, and her every gesture quick and agile as that of a
bird. Thus she grew up loving all things and beloved by all; for even
the flowers which she tended and the creatures that she fed, seemed in
her to find a friend.
Now of so much learning and all this system of solemn ordered hours,
Nehushta did not approve. For a while she bore with it, but when Miriam
was about eleven years of age, she spoke her mind to the Committee and
through them to the governing Court of Curators.
Was it right that a child should be brought up thus, she asked, and
turned into a grave old woman whilst, quite heedless of such things,
others of her age were occupied with youthful games? The end of it
might be that her brain would break and she would die or become crazy,
and then what good would so much wisdom do her? It was necessary that
she should have more leisure and other children with whom she could
associate.
“White-bearded hermits,” she added with point, “were not suitable as
sole companions to a little maid.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account