Old Betsy And I Used
To Prose About Young Abdurrachman And His Studies At Mecca, And
About My Children, With
More real heartiness than you can fancy.
We were not afraid of boring each other; and pious old Abdool sat
And nodded and said, 'May Allah protect them all!' as a refrain; -
'Allah, il Allah!'
LETTER IX
Caledon, Feb. 21st.
This morning's post brought your packet, and the announcement of an
extra mail to-night - so I can send you a P.S. I hear that Capetown
has been pestilential, and as hot as Calcutta. It is totally
undrained, and the Mozambiquers are beginning to object to acting
as scavengers to each separate house. The 'vidanges' are more
barbarous even than in Paris. Without the south-easter (or 'Cape
doctor') they must have fevers, &c.; and though too rough a
practitioner for me, he benefits the general health. Next month
the winds abate, but last week an omnibus was blown over on the
Rondebosch road, which is the most sheltered spot, and inhabited by
Capetown merchants. I have received all the Saturday Reviews quite
safe, likewise the books, Mendelssohn's letters, and the novel. I
have written for my dear Choslullah to fetch me. The Dutch farmers
don't know how to charge enough; moreover, the Hottentot drivers
get drunk, and for two lone women that is not the thing. I pay my
gentle Malay thirty shillings a day, which, for a cart and four and
such a jewel of a driver, is not outrageous; and I had better pay
that for the few days I wait on the road, than risk bad carts,
tipsy Hottentots, and extortionate boers.
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