File:The Argosy (1865) (14776648291).jpg

Identifier: argosythe45wood (find matches)
Title: The Argosy
Year: 1865 (1860s)
Authors: Wood, Henry, Mrs., 1814-1887 Wood, Charles W. (Charles William), b. 1850?
Subjects:
Publisher: London (etc.) R. Bentley (etc.)
Contributing Library: Robarts - University of Toronto
Digitizing Sponsor: University of Toronto

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ose branches we could shelter from the noon-day sun,bore flowers of extraordinary size and splendour, whose luscious per-fume filled the air. It was an intensely hot day. There was not the faintest shadow o\2L breeze; not a cloud in the sky as large as a mans hand. An un-broken canopy of intense blue, except where the sun turned it intomolten gold. Indeed, there has not been rain here for about ahundred days; and the earth is very much burnt up in consequence. Letters from Majorca, 53 Our morning was spent in examining the estate; admiring themagnificent crops; hstening to the whispering of the reeds andrushes in the dykes ; the croaking of multitudes of frogs, with singularand not unpleasant voices. The estate produces an immense amountof cane, which grows in the dykes and canals, and in all marshyplaces. If mills were erected here, all this cane might be turned intopaper, and what is now comparatively useless, would become a greatarticle of commerce, a source of considerable profit.
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In the Albufera. These dykes and marshes shelter an abundance of snipe, whichyield good sport in winter. This recalls to me my Shetland experi-ences, where I have had many a days shooting and tramping overthe moors with G., returning at sundown laden with spoil. Days,alas, that are ended. For you know how G., only a few months ago,went out to shoot plover, and after two days mysterious absence wassearched for and found dead upon these same moors. And you knowhow his faithful dog, for those two whole days and nights, had keptwatch and ward over him, never stirring from his side : even thenwould not be separated from his master. What a capacity for 54 Letters from Majorca. fidelity there is in the dumb creation. Is it because with themfeehng cannot evaporate itself in words ? At mid-day we reached the engine-house, and the offices of theAlbufera. Here we lunched, and met with another cordon bleuof natures own making ; a born cook of the masculine persuasion, assomeone has it, who treate

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