ROUGHING IT. 
131 
Chap. IX.—B. S.] 
there, I was obliged to tell them,—politely handing 
them two of the first chairs ever seen in that wilder¬ 
ness,—that the place they were now at was their desti¬ 
nation, and the house they had entered the principal 
building of the mines. The elder of the two was wear¬ 
ing a black lace shawl, and I could not help thinking 
that that, and many similar articles, had been sent out 
at least twenty years too early. She had used all her 
influence to obtain the employment on the duties of 
which she was about to enter, and left unheeded the 
warnings of those who were familiar with the nature 
and inconveniences of new countries. But roughing 
it is tempting to many minds. To prepare for sleeping 
under a fine old tree, with the silvery rays of the moon 
piercing through the green boughs, a good supper cook¬ 
ing by a bright camp fire, and swarthy natives singing 
snatches of plaintive songs, is so romantic, so much 
like a real gipsy life, that people who, from one year’s 
end to another, have to go through the common rou¬ 
tine of life such as it is in our large towns, may be 
pardoned if imagination gets the better of judgment, 
and they rashly embark in enterprises beyond their 
physical strength or mental grasp. 
The elderly lady gave me a running, and to me highly 
amusing, yet not unfaithful, narrative of all the dangers 
she had passed through since leaving the comfortable 
West Indian mail steamer. Nearly swamped in the surf 
on landing, she found herself at Greytown in an atmo¬ 
sphere only fit for hothouse plants; and, fond as she 
was of fresh air, her discomfort was augmented by her 
being thrust at night under the protecting shelter of a 
k 2 
