SECOND RESIDENCE AT CAPE TOWN. 89 



win rny way through them. Moreover, I got into a sad jungle 

 of bramble and underwood, the only way of getting out of which 

 was by crawling on my hands and knees along the stony bed of 

 a mountain rivulet, and in some places only a height of two feet 

 penetrable. In all places I had to pioneer and break my way, 

 for about a hundred yards, but that was sufficient to fill me 

 with thorns and scratches. It was at Paradise that old Menzies 

 got many of his beautiful mosses, and I had therefore the 

 greater pleasure in picking the Hookeria laricina, which he 

 had discovered in this very spot. It is a lovely moss, and a 

 luxurious lady might covet it to stuff her grates with. 



April 27, 1837. 



Where is the February news, and why are you all silent 

 when I confess I am anxious to hear ? for we have frightful 

 accounts of the influenza, which appears to be as severe as the 

 cholera, and I dread it as much for you all. Have you written ? 



Thanks to M 's people, I got a bundle of Limerick papers 



up to the 27th, which were some comfort. Perhaps they know he 

 is on his way home, and will send no more. Let the Chronicle 

 be forwarded regularly to the post every week, ship or no ship. 



You would like to hear what I am doing : truly little. As 

 winter approaches I mean to take to gluing, having a great 

 many piles of " dirt pies " to be transferred to the Herbarium, 

 and this with, reading will pretty fully employ my leisure. I 

 have lately been algologising pretty briskly, and found a few 

 things not seen last year, but our seaweeds are not so pretty as 

 those of Devon. I have not heard from Mrs. Griffiths since I 

 sent her the " Irish Flora ;" I intend writing by this ship. Poor 

 old lady, I fear I shall not have many more letters from her. 

 Think of my employment lying in bed of a morning. Opposite 

 my bed is a window with forty panes of glass therein, which 

 represents my age when I leave the Cape. I fancy every 

 pane a year, and weave stories respecting them, or look 

 back to the panes that are already passed over. An idle work, 

 but now that it is too cold and dark to get up before eight, 

 it is an occupation not devoid of amusement. I am still as 

 far as ever from housekeeping. I have got a gloriously bad 

 name in the visiting world, and I believe it is now pretty well 



