I Shall Go To-Morrow To Bid The T-S Good-Bye, At Wynberg.
I was to
have spent a few days there, but Wynberg is cold at night and
dampish, so I declined that.
She is a nice woman - Irish, and so
innocent and frank and well-bred. She has been at Cold Bokke Veld,
and shocked her puritanical host by admiring the naked Caffres who
worked on his farm. He wanted them to wear clothes.
We have been amused by the airs of a naval captain and his wife,
who are just come here. They complained that the merchant-service
officers spoke FAMILIARLY to their children on board. Quel audace!
When I think of the excellent, modest, manly young fellows who
talked very familiarly and pleasantly to me on board the St.
Lawrence, I long to reprimand these foolish people.
Friday, 21st. - I am just come from prayer, at the Mosque in
Chiappini Street, on the outskirts of the town. A most striking
sight. A large room, like a county ball-room, with glass
chandeliers, carpeted with common carpet, all but a space at the
entrance, railed off for shoes; the Caaba and pulpit at one end;
over the niche, a crescent painted; and over the entrance door a
crescent, an Arabic inscription, and the royal arms of England! A
fat jolly Mollah looked amazed as I ascended the steps; but when I
touched my forehead and said, 'Salaam Aleikoom', he laughed and
said, 'Salaam, Salaam, come in, come in.' The faithful poured in,
all neatly dressed in their loose drab trousers, blue jackets, and
red handkerchiefs on their heads; they left their wooden clogs in
company, with my shoes, and proceeded, as it appeared, to strip.
Off went jackets, waistcoats, and trousers, with the dexterity of a
pantomime transformation; the red handkerchief was replaced by a
white skullcap, and a long large white shirt and full white drawers
flowed around them.
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