Page:Wanderings of a Pilgrim Vol 2.djvu/417

 weather at the Cape? yesterday a burning sun, today a south-*east wind covering the mountain with a shroud, the wind howling and roaring round the house, a heavy gale blowing, and the street filled every minute with blinding clouds of dust and fine stones, that, whirling up, cut against your face, as with shut eyes you strive to make your way. The houses are thinly built, unfitted for the climate; the chimneys smoke, and nothing can be more disagreeable than a residence here at present. The ships in the harbour had need look well to their anchors, to prevent their being driven out to sea in such a fierce gale.

26th.—A quiet day, after a south-easter that has blown for three days.

Sept. 28th.—Went to the races, which took place by the light-*house at Green Point. Having heard a great deal respecting the beauty of the Dutch girls, I was induced to go to the race-ball to see them, and was much disappointed in my expectations.

Oct. 7th.—We quitted Cape Town, and went to reside at Newlands. This place was formerly the residence of Lord Charles Somerset, the Governor of the Cape: the house is situated in the midst of fine woods, and noble avenues of oak; the roses and geraniums are most luxuriant. The Table Mountain, seen through the avenues at the back of the house, is calm and beautiful: the view in front extends across fine woods, terminated by the Blueberg Mountains. This is a delightful place,—the avenues offer perpetual shade, and the flowers are a luxury. Newlands is well situated as a residence; the walks around are numerous and beautiful,—I enjoyed those especially around the back of the Table Mountain, where there are a profusion of wild flowers. On the road to Paradise the view of the opposite mountains and Simon's Bay to the right is very interesting; there is still a garden at Paradise, but the house is in ruins.

11th.—The rides are most agreeable; how happy I am to be on horseback again! I look with regret on the months I lost by spending them in Cape Town, shut up in Roeland-street; it is so delicious in the country,—we are about six or seven miles