There has not been any rain for
three months, nor will there be any for two more; the sky is cloudless,
the air dry and very bracing.
It is cold enough at night for fires,
and autumn clothing can be worn all the day long, for though the sun is
bright and warm, the shade temperature does not rise above 65 degrees,
and exercise is easy and pleasant. At night, even at a considerable
height, the lowest temperature is 40 degrees. It is impossible to
praise the climate too highly, with its bright sky, cool dry air, and
five months of rainlessness; but I should write very differently if I
came here four months later, when the mercury ranges from 80 degrees to
90 degrees both by day and night, and the cloudy sky rests ever on the
summits of the island peaks, and everything is moist, and the rain
comes down continually in torrents, rising in hot vapors when the sun
shines, and people become limp and miserable, and their possessions
limp and moldy, and insect life revels, and human existence spent in a
vapor bath becomes burdensome. But the city is healthy to those who
live temperately. It has, however, a remarkable peculiarity. Standing
in and on rock, one fancies that fever would not be one of its
maladies, but the rock itself seems to have imprisoned fever germs in
some past age, for whenever it is quarried or cut into for foundations,
or is disturbed in any way, fever immediately breaks out.
Victoria is a beautiful city. It reminds me of Genoa, but that most of
its streets are so steep as to be impassable for wheeled vehicles, and
some of them are merely grand flights of stairs, arched over by dense
foliaged trees, so as to look like some tropical, colored, deep
colonnades. It has covered green balconies with festoons of creepers,
lofty houses, streets narrow enough to exclude much of the sun, people
and costumes of all nations, processions of Portuguese priests and
nuns; and all its many-colored life is seen to full advantage under
this blue sky and brilliant sun.
This house is magnificently situated, and very large and airy. Part is
the Episcopal Palace, and the rest St. Paul's College, of which Bishop
Burdon is warden. The mountainous grounds are beautiful, and the
entrance blazes with poinsettias. There are no female servants, but
Chinese men perform all the domestic service satisfactorily. I learn
that for a Chinese servant to appear without his skull-cap is rude, but
to appear with his pig-tail wound round his head instead of pendent, is
a gross insult! The "Pidjun English" is revolting, and the most
dignified persons demean themselves by speaking it. The word "pidjun"
appears to refer generally to business. "My pidjun" is undoubtedly "my
work." How the whole English-speaking community, without distinction of
rank, has come to communicate with the Chinese in this baby talk is
extraordinary.
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