It can come good, by and by, I reckon, if I attach it to a "permit." Approaching Adelaide we dismounted from the train, as the French say, and were driven in an open carriage over the hills and along their slopes to the city.

It was an excursion of an hour or two, and the charm of it could not be overstated, I think.

The road wound around gaps and gorges, and offered all varieties of scenery and prospect--mountains, crags, country homes, gardens, forests--color, color, color everywhere, and the air fine and fresh, the skies blue, and not a shred of cloud to mar the downpour of the brilliant sunshine.

And finally the mountain gateway opened, and the immense plain lay spread out below and stretching away into dim distances on every hand, soft and delicate and dainty and beautiful.

On its near edge reposed the city.
We descended and entered.