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. 
