“Yes,” said Mr. Breton; “for harbors and shipping have a certain general resemblance all over the world. So also do seaport towns. And this town, with its Dutch style of building, does certainly resemble some of the older portions of New York. But it resembles still more the seaports of Holland, with canals running through the middle of all the principal streets, as you never see in ours.” “Oh! canals running down the middle of the streets! How queer! Like Venice.” “Oh, no, not Venice; for the streets of Venice are all canals—the walls of the houses rising straight up from the edge of the water. But here the canals only run down through the middle of the most important streets, and there are beautiful sidewalks, well shaded by lofty trees, before the rows of houses, each side. But you will see all these things when you go on shore. And there is the breakfast bell.” While the others talked, Miss Conyers and Mr. Rosenthal stood side by side, perfectly silent, and letting their eyes rove over the sea and land. And now they turned and followed their companions into the saloon. While they were breakfasting, the sailors were getting out the yawl boat, so that when they came on deck again, they found it waiting. They made haste to prepare themselves, and were soon ready. The gentlemen handed the ladies carefully down into the boat. The captain, who was going on shore with his passengers, joined them; and the sailors laid themselves to their oars and pushed off the boat. “In African waters—only think!” said Mrs. Breton, who did not seem to be able to get over her astonishment at finding herself in such a, to her, mythical place. They rowed cautiously past British men-of-war, past East India merchantmen, past Dutch traders, past Chinese junks and the shipping of all nations that rode at anchor in the harbor; and then past the fortifications, and past the custom-house, near which they landed. As they brought nothing into the town but what they wore on their persons or carried in their hands, they had no business with the receivers of duty; so they went on into the town. First they found the usual crowd that day and night haunt the piers of seaports—only in this place the crowd was smaller as to number and greater as to variety than is commonly to be met with, for here were English, Dutch and Portuguese colonists, and Hottentot, Kaffir and other natives, besides a sprinkling of strangers and visitors from all parts of the world. Through this crowd they went up a narrow street, and turned into a broad avenue, beautifully shaded with poplar, oak and pine trees, and built up on each side with handsome houses in the Dutch style of architecture, having gayly painted fronts, flat roofs and broad terraces. Here the captain paused to point out to them the way to the South African College, and left them, and went in pursuit of his own business.