the distance. The Special gave us news of a fight, indeed; but not of
_the_ fight; it was Modder River over again. In fine, we were sold
again, for the Modder River fight was--if not quite ancient history--as
remote from our thoughts as the "famous victory" at Blenheim in ages
past. Despatch riders had been coming and going, we knew all about the
River battle, and after an interval of fifteen days an ambiguous "slip"
was slipped upon a too confiding _clientele_! It was sharp practice; and
its employment at a moment when suspense had thrown us off our guard
was superb. We bristled with indignation, but the _coup_ (as such) was
splendid. We, the victims, were not entirely blameless; we had had ample
experience of the risk attached to speculation in Specials. It was ever
thus. An ancient number of the _Cape Times_ would drop from the clouds,
and for weeks the news it contained would be administered in homeopathic
doses to the public at three pence per dose. It was good business.
"Slip" was the appropriate appellation bestowed upon the Special.
Sometimes two or three "Slips" would be issued on the same day. One
would come out early, after which a huge blackboard, intimating in
chalked capitals that "important news" was to appear in a later edition,
would be carried round the town by two black boys. And though the news
was never important, the enterprise was a success. To the smart sets the
limited reading matter the "half sheet of notepaper" contained was a
positive recommendation; and at afternoon (Natal) teas there was many a
"Slip" between the cup and the lip.

Time passed; and still the Column came not. We felt disgusted rather
than distressed; we were yet confident of the Column's invincibility.
Various tit-bits of secondary interest were served out to humour us, and
a startling rumour was put in circulation--a rumour round which clung no
element of justification to soften the wrath it aroused.