have come in since the war began.  By way of testing prices, I took a cup of tea and some cake in a pleasant little shop; half a crown; worth it though, for the tea had fresh milk in it.  Groceries seem unobtainable, but I made a valuable haul at a chemist’s, in the shape of tea-tablets, which I think are the most useful things one can have out here.  Matches can’t be bought at all, but if you buy other things, and then are very polite, they will throw in a box for love; at least, a tobacconist did so for me.  They used to be a shilling a box, but the authorities limited the price to a penny, a futile proceeding.

The charm of Pretoria lies in its outlying roads, with its cool little villas peeping out of green.  The place is very quiet, and every one is in khaki.

September 12.—­Can’t get sent to the Battery yet.  Our tin room grows fuller.  At night it is much too crowded, and is horribly stuffy; for the nights are very hot.  But I am quite at home now, and enjoy the society, mixed though it is.  I have literary arguments with a field-battery bombardier.  We both rather pity one another, for he can’t appreciate Thackeray and I can’t understand Marie Corelli, whose works, with their deep spiritual meaning, he speaks of reverently.  He hopes to educate me up to “Ardath,” and I have offered him the reversion of “Esmond,” which I bought yesterday.

Went down to town in the evening and visited the Irish Hospital, which has commandeered the Palace of Justice, and turned it to better uses than Kruger’s venial judges ever put it to.  The patients dwell “in marble halls,” spacious, lofty rooms.  Had a pleasant chat with Dr. Stokes. (The I.H. were shipmates of ours on the Montfort.) Also, to my great delight, found two men of our Battery there; it was a great treat to see familiar faces again.  They said the Battery or part of it was at Waterval.  I don’t see why I shouldn’t rejoin at once if they will only let me.  I joined them in an excellent tea.  They spoke most highly of the hospital.  I had no pass to get back with, and didn’t know the countersign, but I bluffed through all right.

September 22.—­No prospect of getting away, though I apply daily to rejoin.  Sent down to Pretoria with a letter in the middle of the day, so took the opportunity of visiting the Soldiers’ Home, where you can get mild drinks, read the papers, and write.  Visited the Battery chaps again in the evening.  I have grown quite reckless about the lack of a pass; “Orderly to Captain Davies,” said in a very off-hand tone I found an excellent form of reply to sentries.  I have an “Esmond,” and am enjoying it for about the fiftieth time.  It serves to pass away the late evenings.  A great amusement in the barrack-room after dark is gambling.  The amounts won and lost rather astonish me.  Happily it is done in silence, with grim intensity.  But I have only an inch of candle, and can’t buy any more.  Next me on the floor is a gunner of