Then in the autumn we looked forward to our visit to
“Clasenbosch,” my mother’s home, and owned by her brother,
Mr. Versfeld. We had to drive all the way, as there were
no railroads in those days, and after the long hot drive how
refreshing it was to get under those beautiful oak trees and
revel in the exquisite scenery as we got nearer and nearer
to our destination ; and how we enjoyed driving into Cape
Town by wagon and having a day’s shopping, and spending
the pocket-money which had been saved up for monthsj
most of it being the proceeds of the sale of our chickens
(we each had our own).
In those days we had to drive all the way to Kalk Bay
and Simons Bay, and what a treat it was to be taken on
board a man-of-war, and shown all the wonders of a big
ship ! What delightful memories we took back home, and
17 ^
MY OLD HOME
when the holidays were over, and our governess came back,
we all set to work, looking forward to the spring, when our
visits were returned by our uncle and aunt and their family ;
then charades were got up or happy hours spent in walking
through the flower-carpeted veldt in the morning.
“ Groote Constantia” was the home of my mother’s uncle
and aunt, another favourite house to stay at. You ap-
proached it through an avenue of oaks, and an exquisite
view burst on you as you reached the front door,
which stood hospitably open on the broad stoep. There
was an air of old-world nobility about that grand old
place which nothing else, I think, comes up to. As you
look down towards the Flats, what a scene it was, of sea,
mountains, and cultivated valleys ; and, again, up to the
mountains, above the house, the soft green vineyards and
the wooded glens, where the tree ferns grew, the peach
orchards, the old reservoir (near where used to be
swimming baths one hundred years ago), the chestnut
trees, the exquisite rose-apple trees, with lovely foliage and
flowers something like a powder-puff! the large gardenia
trees (a native of the Cape). Words fail to describe all the
beauties of that garden, the shady walks, the variety of
trees and shrubs.
You enter the house by a hall, not as large as you find
in some of the Cape houses. The floor is of polished, tessel-
lated Batavian stones, and the ceiling dark polished wood.
A magnificent “ stalagmite ” stood in one corner, which
had been brought from the Cango Caves by one of the old
Cloetes. On the right hand, as you entered, was a large
drawing-room, quite fifty or sixty feet long and beautifully
proportioned and prettily furnished, and in the centre of
the room was suspended a hanging basket of cut flowers,
i8
MY OLD HOME
Page 10
Presented as published in 1902. Historical recipes may not meet modern food-safety standards. Cook from the modern interpretation, not the original instructions.
AI-modernized reading of the original text
Then in the autumn we looked forward to our visit to “Clasenbosch,” my mother’s home, and owned by her brother, Mr. Versfeld. We had to drive all the way, as there were no railroads in those days, and after the long hot drive how refreshing it was to get under those beautiful oak trees and revel in the exquisite scenery as we got nearer and nearer to our destination ; and how we enjoyed driving into Cape Town by wagon and having a day’s shopping, and spending the pocket-money which had been saved up for months; most of it being the proceeds of the sale of our chickens (we each had our own).
In those days we had to drive all the way to Kalk Bay and Simons Bay, and what a treat it was to be taken on board a man-of-war, and shown all the wonders of a big ship ! What delightful memories we took back home, and
17 ^
when the holidays were over, and our governess came back, we all set to work, looking forward to the spring, when our visits were returned by our uncle and aunt and their family ; then charades were got up or happy hours spent in walking through the flower-carpeted veldt in the morning.
“ Groote Constantia” was the home of my mother’s uncle and aunt, another favourite house to stay at. You approached it through an avenue of oaks, and an exquisite view burst on you as you reached the front door, which stood hospitably open on the broad stoep. There was an air of old-world nobility about that grand old place which nothing else, I think, comes up to. As you look down towards the Flats, what a scene it was, of sea, mountains, and cultivated valleys ; and, again, up to the mountains, above the house, the soft green vineyards and the wooded glens, where the tree ferns grew, the peach orchards, the old reservoir (near where used to be swimming baths one hundred years ago), the chestnut trees, the exquisite rose-apple trees, with lovely foliage and flowers something like a powder-puff! the large gardenia trees (a native of the Cape). Words fail to describe all the beauties of that garden, the shady walks, the variety of trees and shrubs.
You enter the house by a hall, not as large as you find in some of the Cape houses. The floor is of polished, tessellated Batavian stones, and the ceiling dark polished wood. A magnificent “ stalagmite ” stood in one corner, which had been brought from the Cango Caves by one of the old Cloetes. On the right hand, as you entered, was a large drawing-room, quite fifty or sixty feet long and beautifully proportioned and prettily furnished, and in the centre of the room was suspended a hanging basket of cut flowers,