It is the necessary of necessaries
here--a _real_, good substantial waterproof. A man cannot do better than
get a regular military waterproof which will cover him from chin to heel
on horseback; and even waterproof hats and caps are a comfort in this
treacherous summer season, where a storm bursts over your head out of a
blue dome of sky, and drenches you even whilst the sun is shining
brightly.
A worse climate and country for clothes of every kind and description
cannot be imagined. When I first arrived I thought I had never seen such
ugly toilettes in all my life; and I should have been less than woman
(or more--which is it?) if I had not derived some secret satisfaction
from the possession of at least prettier garments. What I was vain of in
my secret heart was my store of cotton gowns. One can't very well wear
cotton gowns in London; and, as I am particularly fond of them, I
indemnify myself for going abroad by rushing wildly into extensive
purchases in cambrics and print dresses. They are so pretty and so
cheap, and when charmingly made, as mine _were_ (alas, they are already
things of the past!), nothing can be so satisfactory in the way of
summer country garb. Well, it has been precisely in the matter of cotton
gowns that I have been punished for my vanity. For a day or two each
gown in turn looked charming. Then came a flounce or bordering of bright
red earth on the lower skirt and a general impression of red dust and
dirt all over it.
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