s
to Terpsichorean revels. My R.S.V.P. has been curtly to the effect that
"Mr. P.T.R. is not dancing this season."

As regards deaths and funerals, I have seen and attended more than
enough of them out here. At this present moment a friend, a New
Zealander, is in parlous plight. He was shot in the right shoulder, the
wound soon healed, but the arm was almost useless, so the massage fiend
here used to come and give him terrible gip. Then doctor No. 3 came
along, said he had been treated wrongly, that the artery was severed,
etc., and operated on him. The operation itself was successful, but as
regards other matters, it is touch and go with him, his arm is black up
to a little above the elbow, in places it is ebony, and, I understand,
amputation, if the worse comes to the worst, is almost out of the
question. So, with others, I go in to keep him cheered up, and chaff him
over the champagne and other luxuries he is on, suggesting what a lovely
black eye his ebony right mawler might give a fellow, and feeling all
the time a strong inclination to do a sob. He is such a rattling fine
fellow, indeed, all the Colonials I have met are.[9]

[Footnote 9: Since my return I have heard from "Scotty," as
we used to call him. He wrote from his home in New Zealand,
his right arm had been successfully amputated, and he was
getting accustomed to its loss.]

Last night we had an open-air concert; the best part of it, as is often
the case at such affairs, appeared to be the refreshments which were
provided for the officers and artists. The talent was really not of a
high order, being supplied from Pretoria.

The chairman, who introduced the performers and announced the items,
affording us most entertainment, usually, unconsciously, he being a
long-winded individual, and invariably commencing his remarks with
"Er-hem! Ladies and gentleman, a great Greek philosopher once said"--or
"There is an old proverb." He essayed to give us "The dear Homeland,"
but being interrupted in one of his most ambitious vocal flights by a
giddy young officer (and a gentleman) throwing a bundle of music and a
bunch of vegetables at him, hastily finished his song, and in a
dignified voice requested us to conclude the proceedings by singing "God
Save the Quing." This was the first time I had sung the National Anthem,
since the death of our Queen, and I felt, as no doubt everybody has
experienced, a most peculiar feeling on sin