d over amid the imposing circumstance of
arms, Bloemfontein lost something of its charm. The noise and dust and
commotion of the army did violence to its pastoral quietness, and the
pretty shops put up their shutters at midday as though in maidenly
horror at the eagerness of crowds of soldiers running amuck like
children with their Saturday pennies. I entered the town early enough to
see what its normal condition must be, and there was something rude and
unkind in the din of the multitude breaking on this quiet place where
the bees sang loud in the streets, and the midday idler slumbered upon
the doorstep.

To be sure, one had opportunity for studying the soldier in a new
setting, but the study is one that requires time; the average Tommy is
an oyster to strangers. He varies to the tune and colour of his
surroundings; on the veldt, where hardness is to be endured, he is the
"good soldier," the patient, strong man; under fire he is a fierce
creature, still obedient to his habit of discipline, but hot for combat;
in the town, with money in his pocket, he is a little child. Indeed,
after weeks of absence from places where money is of value we all share
in this rejuvenation, and if you had been in Bloemfontein on any one of
these fine days you would have seen men of every age and rank, from
generals to trumpeters, wandering about the streets, agape at the shop
windows, chinking their money in their pockets, and buying things for
which they had no kind of use.

The British officer afield is a very different creature from the gilded
ornament of an English mess. His face is scorched and peeled, he is
generally (unless he be a staff officer) very ill-clad; he has a ragged
beard; he esteems golden syrup the greatest luxury on earth; he ceases
to be ashamed of originality in thought or expression; he altogether
fails to disguise what a good fellow he is. But in a very short time the
neighbourhood of a club, the possibility of a bath, the presence of
barbers and tailors, by a mysterious and marvellous working, reverse his
development, and the little graces which endear him to society at home
begin to reappear. So long as the sole of his boot was tied to the
uppers by a piece of string, he could not look you in the face with any
pretending; but when the cobbler has done his office, and the tailor has
sewn up the rent breeches, the spell is broken.

We "occupied" Bloemfontein so completely that, after the first few days,
I was gl