Olympius followed Agne into the garden where he found her sitting by the marble margin of a small pool, giving her little brother pieces of bread to feed the swans with.

He greeted her kindly and, taking up the child, showed him a ball which rose and fell on the jet of water from the fountain.

Papias was not at all frightened by the big man with his white beard, for a bright and kindly gleam shone in his eyes, and his voice was soft and attractive as he asked him whether he had such another ball and could toss it as cleverly as the fountain did.
Papias said: "No," and Olympius, turning to Agne, went on: "You should get him a ball.

There is no better plaything, for play ought to consist in pleasant exertion which is in itself its object and gain.
Play is the toil of a little child; and a ball, which he can throw and run after or catch, trains his eye, gives exercise to his limbs and includes a double moral which men of every age and position should act upon: To look down on the earth and keep his gaze on the heavens." Agne nodded agreement and thanks, while Olympius set the child down and bid him run away to the paddock where some tame gazelles were kept.
Then, going straight to the point, he said: "I hear you have declined to sing in the temple of Isis; you have been taught to regard the goddess to whom many good men turn in faith and confidence, as a monster of iniquity, but, tell me, do you know what she embodies ?" "No," replied Agne looking down; but she hastily rose from her seat and added with some spirit: "And I do not want to know, for I am a Christian and your gods are not mine." "Well, well; your beliefs, of course, differ from ours in many points: still, I fancy that you and I have much in common.

We belong to those who have learnt to 'look upwards'-- there goes the ball, up again!--and who find comfort in doing so.