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Daisy was silent a little; then she began on a new theme.
"Papa, what is a 'vocation'?"
"What is what, Daisy?"
"Vocation, papa."
"Where did you get that word?"
"I found it in a book."
"It means commonly a person's business or employment."
"Only that, papa?"
"There is another sense in which it is used, but you would hardly understand it."
"Please tell me, papa."
"Why?"
"Papa, I like to know the meanings of things. Please tell me."
"Daisy, it means a 'calling' ? in the idea that some persons are particularly appointed to a certain place or work in the world."
Daisy looked a little hard at him, and then said, "Thank you, papa."
"Daisy, I hope you do not think you have a 'vocation,' " said Mr. Randolph, half smiling.
"Papa," said the child, "I cannot help it."
"No, perhaps not," said Mr. Randolph, stooping again to Daisy's lips. "When you are older and wiser you will know better. At present your vocation is to be a good little daughter. Now what are you going to do to-day? Here is Preston ? if you want him; or I will do for you what you please."
"Yes, Daisy, what shall we do?" said Preston.
"Oh, are you at leisure?"
"All your own, Daisy, for this morning at any rate. What shall we do?"
"Preston, would you mind getting my tray for me; and let us go on with the battle of Hastings?"
"With what?" said Mr. Randolph, laughing.
"The battle of Hastings, papa ? English history, you know.
Captain Drummond and I got just there, and then we stopped.
But Harold was killed ? wasn't he, papa?"
"I believe he was, Daisy."
"Good for him, too," said Preston. "He was nothing but a usurper. William the Conqueror was a great deal more of a man."
"But he was just as much of a usurper, wasn't he?" said Daisy.
"You must mind your ethics, Preston," Mr. Randolph said, laughing. "Daisy is on the Saxon side."
"Preston, will you get the tray, please? June will give it to you."
Preston did not quite understand the philosophy of the tray; however, Daisy must be humoured. It was brought. By Daisy's order it had been carefully protected from dust and danger; and the lineaments of England, as traced by the captain some time ago, were fresh and in good order.
Daisy hung over the map with great interest, renewing her acquaintance with various localities, and gradually getting Preston warmed up to the play. It was quite exciting; for, with every movement of William's victorious footsteps, the course of his progress had to be carefully studied out on a printed map, and then the towns and villages which marked his way noted on the clay map, and their places betokened by wooden pins. Daisy suggested that these pins should have sealing-wax heads of different colours to distinguish the cities, the villages, and the forts from each other. Making these, interrupted doubtless the march of the Conqueror and of history, but in the end much increased Daisy's satisfaction, and if the truth be told, Preston's too.
"There, ? now you can see at a glance where the castles are; don't their red heads look pretty! And, Oh, Preston! we ought to have some way of marking the battle-fields; don't you think so?"
"The map of England will be nothing but marks then, by and by," said Preston.
"Will it? But it would be very curious. Preston, just give me a little piece of that pink blotting paper from the library table; it is in the portfolio there. Now I can put a little square bit of this on every battle-field, and pressing it a little, it will stick, I think. There! ? there is Hastings. Do you see, Preston? That will do nicely."
"England will be all pink blotting paper by and by," said Preston.
"Then it will be very curious," said Daisy. "Were new kings _always_ coming to push out the old ones?"
"Not like William the Conqueror. But yet it was something very like that, Daisy. When a king died, two of his children would both want the place; so they would fight."
"But two men fighting would not make a battlefield."
"Oh, Daisy, Daisy!" cried Preston; "do you know no better than that?"
"Well, but who else would fight with them?"
"Why, all the kingdom! Part would fight for the right, you know, as the Saxons did with Harold; and part would fight to be the best fellows, and to get the fat places."
"Fat places?" said Daisy. At which Preston went off into one of his laughs. Daisy looked on. How could she be expected to understand him?
"What is the matter, my dear? What are you doing?" Daisy started. "We are studying English history, aunt Gary."
"_History_, my dear? And what is all this muss, and these red and black spots? does your mamma allow this in the library?"
"Just the place to study history, I am sure, mamma," said Preston; "and you cannot have less muss than this where people are fighting. But I really don't know what you mean, ma'am; there cannot be a cleaner map, except for the blood shed on it."
"Blood?" said Mrs. Gary. "My dear" ? as Preston burst into another laugh ? "you must not let him tease you."
Daisy's look was so very unruffled and gentle that perhaps it put Mrs. Gary in mind of another subject.
"Did you know, Daisy, that I had robbed you of your old- fas.h.i.+oned spoon?"
"I found it was not among my things," said Daisy.
"My dear, your mother thought you would not value it; and it was very desirable to my collection. I took it with her consent."