XLVIII THE HUT OF THE CAPE OF GOOD HOPE
Never anywhere, even in orderly Germany, have I seen such an orderly place as this steel works, and yet it was picturesque. Every chimney, retort, and furnace seemed to be cleaned daily. There was in the late afternoon light a beautiful blue sheen on the furnaces, the brick of the chimneys was delicate red which harmonized with the gold and rose fumes from the blasts, amid all the white smoke was pierced with purple and blue, and in front was the greenest grass plot I have ever seen, kept, like all the works, in perfect order, and around the outer border engines were dragging the most lurid melted white-hot refuse—roaring fire.