ut it was a mixed blessing.

On Thursday a mounted force re-visited Carter's Farm to entice the Boers
into battle. In pursuance of this purpose some shells were expended; but
the Boers disregarded the challenge. The rumour-monger, who had an
explanation for everything, interpreted their silence to mean that the
guns had been requisitioned to oppose the advance of Methuen, who did
not seem to be making great headway. One of the sights of Thursday was a
_khaki_ horse! We were in this connection accustomed to such diversity
of shades as black, grey, white, and brown; but a painted quadruped had
never before been seen in Kimberley. The authorities were responsible
for the painter's assault on the lily. It would appear that a high
percentage of white and grey horses had been shot in the several
sorties; hence the necessity of varnishing the survivors. The white
animals were more discernible to the eye behind a Mauser. Condy's Fluid
was the "varnish" utilised; and curious to relate, one noble steed was,
not khaki, but _green_ after treatment. Perhaps he wanted to be shot.

A fund for the benefit of the families whose bread-winners had fallen in
the defence of Kimberley was opened on Friday. The right man put the
collection in motion; Mr. Rhodes, on behalf of De Beers, headed the list
of subscriptions with ten thousand pounds. The Diamond Syndicate
followed with two thousand. The Mayor, with the sanction of the Town
Council, gave two hundred; and the citizens' "mites" were very decent
indeed. It was also decided to erect a memorial in honour of the dead;
for this object seven hundred pounds was subscribed. The Refugee
Committee continued to perform their duties with unabated energy. It was
creditable to all concerned that nothing was left undone to lighten the
burden of the poor; and the deftness--not to speak of the charity--of
the ladies in the scooping out of meal and sugar was admirable.

Saturday was heralded in by the music of the Column's cannon, which
verily had charms to soothe our savage breasts. It was lyddite melody;
the lyddite shells were singing. It was a siege article of faith, a
siege truism, that the Boers could not long stand up to a British
bombardment; and it was an accepted dogma that lyddite was the article
utilised to knock them down. We had read and heard (and magnified) much
of what lyddite could do; our ideas of its decimating powers were
elephantine--and _white_ at that. Sometimes we pitied the Boe