Wednesday. May 24th. Fayal Hotel.
This afternoon Miss Smith & I went to the Dabneys to play Lawn tennis and had a perfect time. There is a long avenue with high walls on each side leading up to their lodge. Their grounds are quite extensive overlooking an edge of the town and Pico. There is a fine tennis ground infront, the house is immense, white with large verandas in front covered with a little vine called Ficus which bears a fig and clings very close to walls and fences. The
Portuguese houses have a basement which is used for store rooms, the
sargum, then one goes up stairs and rings a bell at the top. We were
given enough to hunt for the bell below and had an absurd time trying to
get in, making so much noise that Miss Dabney put her head over the
verandah and discovered us. The parlor door was locked so she went
around to unfasten it and ushered us in to a very large room, with bare
floor and straw rugs, very Southern in character and very refined. They
are such a charming family that it was a pleasure to sit there and look
at them and their surroundings. We watched a few games of tennis – and
then Mrs Dabney & Miss Alice took me to their garden which is beyond
realisation. I have never seen anything approaching it – very extensive
and filled with the greatest variety of plants and trees. Besides
all kinds of flowers which we see wild and in hot houses, there was a
superb Norfolk pine, the largest north of the equator, Southern
cypresses, cork trees, cinnamon, tea plant, rice paper tree, there were
stone walls and stone steps leading to sheltered nooks, and lover’s
walks all covered with ivy, ferns and senilax[?] a tropical profusion
mingled with green grass and cool air. It was a sight never to be
forgotten and Miss Dabney was as lovely as all the rest. They showed me
“the earthquake house.” The first consul here began the garden and they
have gone on cultivating and adding to it from year to year. They seem
so happy in it and not at all s[?]ted – They loaded me with flowers and
some native ivy which I shall try to transport to America. They
showed me a Madeira palanquin and offered a litter with some men to
carry it for Grace. The poor girl has 205 B.B.B.’s [I have no idea what this means?] – We are
contemplating leaving the Hotel if we can find another where there are
no d[?].
We saw Pico for the first time in all it’s glory, from
the Dabney’s verandah this afternoon. The top was covered with snow and
tere was a pale pink sunset light over it. I never saw so beautiful a
sight, as this mountain rising to a peak from the sea to the height of
7640 ft. The shape is very fine and one gets an effect which is very
rare in mountain peaks when rising from a range. The Fayalese love Pico
dearly and it is their barometer. When Pico has “a cap on it’s head” it
is safe to predict rain – when Pico is clear it will certainly be
pleasant. This is such a damp climate that it is not good for weak
lungs and is very debilitating in warm weather, Miss Dabney says. She
has been three weeks in America, at Roxbury, Milton and Cambridge. I am
in love with her.
We had fresh sardines for breakfast.
Whist. Fayal Hotel.
English Counting.
Mr Lee & I against Mrs Lee & Miss Smith
14 points against 18 points
4 points against 5 points
5 points against 9 points
13 points Mr S & I against -- Mr D & Miss S
7 points against 22 points Mrs L & Miss S
5 points against 4 points Mrs L & Miss N
Mr Lee & I 38 points
Against 58 points
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