In the lanes I hear the music
Of the faintly blowing horn
And the blessed Indian summer's on the land.
The Children's Blessing
On the slope of a hill, beneath silvery olives, a group was gathered about the young stranger. He had entered the village only that morning, seeking the companionship of such Nazarenes as might be there. And they had brought him out here in the open to receive his message. But though he carried them greetings, and news from the distant groups of the Christ's followers, it was plain that he had not been sent to them on a mission.
They waited until he should be ready to explain his quest.
"You did not see Him, then?"
Into the young man's eyes there came a great, yearning sadness. "No," he answered. "But you," he asked eagerly, "did none of you see Him?"