through our minds to upset our comfortable conclusions. Our ignorance
was bliss; the folly of wisdom was to manifest itself all too soon.

The _Advertiser_ had news at last--authentic news and fresh; and forth
from Stockdale Street was launched a three-penny "Special," to tell of
the balloon "we" had seen and of the cannon "we" had heard. That was
all. We put down our tickeys without a murmur. In the fulness of our
hearts we said the paper had to live. The revenue from its advertising
columns was a cypher, since there was so little to advertise about, and
so little need to advertise anything that _was_ about. The "ads." had
fallen off only in the sense that they were no longer paid for. They
were still printed (to fill up space); and very annoying reading they
made. Before, there was _some_ truth in them; now, there was none. How
we sighed for the times of extreme individualism.

In the afternoon a football match was played. The gate-money was handed
over to the Widows' and Orphans' Fund. Our happy speculations on what
happened at Magersfontein served a good purpose here in stimulating the
generosity of the spectators. A team of our visitors (the Lancashire
Regiment) lined up against the pick of the Citizen Soldiers. The game
was well contested, but the superior discipline of the Colonel's lot
told, and they won.

At break of day on Tuesday the Column's guns were at it again. This was
disappointing, inasmuch as it led us to infer that some Boers were yet
alive at Magersfontein. And our ardour was further damped by the De
Beers directors who instead of formally dispersing until the next day,
once more adjourned their meeting--_sine die_. What did it mean? A
Special was shortly forthcoming and was bought up eagerly, while many
eyes were being strained to catch a glimpse of Lord Methuen's legions in