irtues? Being thus immersed, he failed to
observe a grim tightening of the mouth, as he uttered that hearty and,
as he thought, deferential reply.

"Have you been here before?" repeated his catechiser.

"_Ja, Oom_," replied Colvin. And then there was no mistaking the change
which came over His Honour's countenance. He flushed, and a heavy frown
darkened his brows, as removing his pipe from his mouth, he rolled out
in deep, chest notes, like the bark of an angry mastiff.

"_Is nie jou Oom nie. Ik is die President_!"

["I am not your uncle. I am the President."]

The tone went up on an ascending scale, ending loud and staccato.
Colvin, for a moment dumfoundered, hastened to apologise, then with the
utmost suavity of assurance proceeded to explain that he himself owned
an uncle whom he deeply revered, and who bore a most extraordinary
resemblance to "Mynheer President." Then, he deftly went on to inquire
about His Honour's earlier experiences in the old _Voortrekker_ days,
expressing boundless admiration for those wonderful pioneers, and as he
was really well up in their history, the old man, quite mollified, was
soon descanting with unusual volubility on the subject of his early
doings. Mean while coffee was brought in, and, as soon after as he
could, astute Piet Plessis, seeing the conversation was taking a turn
likely to excite His Honour, took the opportunity of terminating the
visit.

"Look after him, Piet," said the old man as he gave them his hand, and
there was the nearest approach to a smile lurking about his mouth.
"Look after him. He is an Englishman, but he is going to marry your
cousin. See that he does not get into any mischief."

"Say, Piet?" said Colvin when they were well out in the street again, "I
believe I put my foot in it some."

"Oh, rather!" answered the other, who could hardly speak for
spluttering. "You're not the only one, though, if the truth were known.
You see it was all very well twenty years ago and all that to call him
Oom Paul. But now the old man is rather sick of it. Only think, every
dirty little Jew `winkler' calling him `Oom.' Besides, he's a much
bigger man now and likes to be treated with a certain amount of state."

But not until he got safely home could Piet give full vent to his mirth,
and then he literally laughed till he cried.

"You should have seen him, Anna," he spluttered between his tears. "Oh,
Aletta, you should have heard him. Telling the _Ou' B