is notably absent; and the soldiers are in uniform, not in half-uniform
and half-brigand attire. I missed the British flag once so conspicuous
upon the southern round tower of the castle, where in days, or rather
nights, of old I had spent not a few jolly hours; but I heard with
pleasure that it is proposed to make a _haute-ville_ of the now
deserted and crumbling triangle, a _Sommerfrisch_ where the
parboiled citizens of Athens will find a splendid prospect and a cooling
sea-breeze.

Mr. E. Barff kindly accompanied us in the usual drive 'round the
Wrekin,' for which we may here read the 'wreck.' We set out along the
sea-flank of the Castle hill. This formation, once a regular hog's-back,
has been split by weather about the middle; and its southern end has
been shaken down by earthquakes, and carved by wind and rain into
precipices and pinnacles of crumbling sandstone, which form the 'Grey
Cliffs.' Having heard at Patras the worst accounts of Zante since it
passed under Greek rule, I was not a little surprised by the excellent
condition of the roads and the general look of prosperity.

Turning to the right we entered Mr. Barff's garden-house, where the
grounds were bright and beautiful with balsam and mignonette, dahlias
and cyclamens, chrysanthemums and oleanders, jasmine and double-violets,
orange-blossoms, and a perfect Gulistan of roses, roses of York and
Lancaster, white, pink, and purple, yellow and green--a perfumed spring
in dreary December. Laden with bouquets we again threaded the
olive-grounds, whose huge trunks are truly patriarchal, and saw basking
in the sun old Eumaeus, the Swine-King, waiting upon his black and
bristly herd. The glimpse led to a characteristic tale. A wealthy Greek
merchant in London had made the most liberal offers to his brother, a
shepherd in the hills of Cephalonia; the latter returned his very best