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"I AM A NEGRO FROM THE ISLE OF FRANCE."-Page 205.

THE IMIGRANT NEGRO.

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the vehicle by which they were to travel; the Wesleyan seated himself on the right, with his companion on his left, while the latter turned away his head and timidly averted his eyes from those of his comrade, who twisted his little grey orbs about in all directions, as if in search of some new object over whom he could exert his influence. A young girl shortly afterwards entered the carriage, and I saw the Methodist hold out his hand to her, but the departure of the vehicle prevented me from observing how his advances were received. Whilst we were walking about the grounds of the Half-way House, and examining the few vegetable productions of the sandy soil, we met a young negro whom we addressed in English; as he did not reply, we tried the Dutch language, but with as little success.

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Probably," said M. De Lagrené," he understands nothing but Portuguese."

The negro immediately turned round on hearing this remark (in French), and striking himself on the breast, said

"I am a negro from the isle of France."

There are few pleasures so refreshing as that of meeting in a foreign land with an individual who is conversant with one's own language, especially when his acquaintance with it is unsuspected; and after making the discovery in the present instance, we remained some time in conversation with the poor negro, whose lot was, however, rather a happy one; for, on being emancipated, he, and several others who had also been set free, and did not wish to reside with their former masters, came and estab

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TRAVELLING EN MASSE.

lished themselves at Cape Town, where they found plenty of work, and lived very happily.

On leaving the Half-way House we took the road to the interior, over an immense sandy plain covered with ferns, and some elegant arbuscle-trees laden with pink and white flowers; the ground was so even that we could proceed at any pace we liked; and the weight of the carriage immediately crushed the little heaps of sand and other small obstacles which arose in our way: the extreme softness of the soil renders travelling in the interior very pleasant; for instance, you see an object which you imagine to be a mountain which will obstruct your progress altogether, but on coming nearer you find it to be merely a defile, which is easily overcome by the heavy wheels of the carriage; and in this manner one may travel very pleasantly from Cape Town to Caffraria in a chariot similar to the one we used, riding on horseback being very fatiguing here, on account of the extreme heat of the climate. When the journey is of great length oxen are used instead of horses; and on our way we met with several equipages of this sort, proceeding towards the Caffre country, each of which had the appearance of a moving house, containing not only kitchen utensils and provisions for several weeks, but also everything necessary for an encampment, hunting equipments of every kind, and ammunition in case of an attack. There is an indiscribable pleasure in roaming over these immense solitary wastes; the aspect of the desert seems to refresh the man who travels over it, and renders him almost envious of the bold intrepid hunters, who, like Harris and Delegorgue, have chosen the wild exciting sport of con

DUTCH HOTEL KEEPER.

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tinually fighting with the lion, hippopotamus, elephant, and other large animals which are so numerous in Africa, and seem to revel in the midst of her sandy soil and burning sun.

We arrived at Stelenbosch towards evening, and before entering the town crossed a little stream, called Crit River, which was at that time almost dry, and was never quite full, except after a heavy fall of rain. It is impossible to imagine a more beautiful country than that around Stelenbosch; every step makes you acquainted with new beauties, and invites you to proceed further.

Stelenbosch is built upon more even ground than Cape Town; its streets are more regular, and protected from the heat of the sun by great numbers of oak trees. We took our way towards the hotel of M. Van Blommesteen, and were immediately introduced to the master of the house, a man of about fifty, healthy and clean looking, calm and comfortable as a Dutchman; he wore an immense white hat, and large white cravat, the knot of which was so very elaborately tied, that we could not help giving our host credit for great neatness and elegance in his attire.

M. de Blommesteen led us into his house, where every→ thing corresponded with our gracious reception; and, among other ornaments in the apartment into which we were introduced, I observed a genealogical tree, which traced the origin of the Blommesteen family to so remote a period that it was lost in a chaos of obscurity. The same precious tableau also blazoned forth the alliances which had been contracted from time to time by the different male branches of the family, and by the side of each name were placed the arms of the families with

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whom they had intermarried; the genealogical tree stopped at the history of the present representative of the family, who had not as yet had time to inscribe upon it the names of the six wives who had preceded him into eternity. The heraldic pretensions of our host did not in the least surprise me, for I had already seen at Cape Town a temple, with walls completely covered with bucklers, swords, and coats of mail, and had been informed that on the death of a Dutch merchant, it was the custom to have the arms of the deceased placed in the chapel which he had always attended.

We met with great kindness and attention at Stelenbosch from Doctor Versfeld, who had resided many years in France, and was one of the most learned and distinguished members of the University to which he belonged.

At the distance of four thousand leagues from my native country, it was a great pleasure to me to be able to recall the souvenirs of former times; to speak of the learned botanist, Persoon, whom I had known about fifteen years ago, at the commencement of my career; he was, indeed, a good old man, who, notwithstanding the many privations he endured, never uttered a murmur against Fate, except that he sometimes complained that the summers were too rainy to allow his seeds to ripen, or his flowers to bloom, and that the drought of the autumnal months injured the precious mushrooms which were the special objects of his care and solicitude. Doctor Versfeld paid great attention to the study of natural history, and permitted me to inspect his various collections; having one day expressed to him my great desire to see pure specimens of the Hottentot, Caffre, and

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