CAPE TOWN 151 



the purpose, and are the best trees possible to break the 

 violence of the S.E. winds, still on the outside of the town 

 the road is sometimes (where anything is) planted with 

 pudding-headed Pines, which are blown at angles of 45 

 with the ground, beastly black in color above, and covered 

 with the red fine dust of the sand below. 



Except Ludwig's garden I enjoyed nothing in Cape 

 Town, for you would not care to hear how the days were 

 sultry without a breath of wind, the streets full of a fine 

 red dust, so light as to be always floating, or how often I 

 had to go to the same shop to get things changed, etc. It 

 was my intention to go up Table Mountain, but Ludwig 

 has no one who could take me up, and the heat was so 

 scorching that all my enthusiasm fairly oozed out of my 

 finger ends, and except for catering for Kew in cool large 

 rooms, Botany was at a standstill. 



