But the “Law” would not permit us to sweeten the “pap” any more—­that is to say, the reduced allowance of sugar was all too little for neutralising the insipidity of black tea.  We were also restricted to a fixed complement per unit of tea and coffee—­as much as we required in any circumstances, but, ironically enough, a little more than we required of the stimulants in their undiluted nastiness.  An elaborate system was set up garnished with red tape, and a large clerical staff filled the Town Hall for the purpose of receiving affidavits, affirmations, and of issuing “permits” to all and sundry who might feel averse from succumbing to a sudden, in contra-distinction to a slow, starvation.  The possession of a “permit” entitled the holder to purchase the “regulation” quantity of provisions for one week, at the expiry of which period he or she would be required to have his or her “permit” renewed, if he or she desired a renewed lease of life.  The tumult at the Town Hall was remarkable; the people swarmed there like locusts; the ordeal one had to undergo for a “permit” involved cruelty to corns.  Matters improved when the excited multitude were at length persuaded that one representative of each family sufficed to conduct negotiations in respect of their right to vegetate.  No storekeeper could supply more than the exact quantity specified in a “permit,” nor dare he refuse to sell on a false plea.

All these drastic changes were the outcome of the Colonel’s proclamation.  His action was pronounced grossly unconstitutional.  What our Rulers meant by it, what such arbitrary interference with the liberty of the stomach portended, we could not tell.  Some ascribed it to pure “khaki cussedness”; others maintained that the Military aimed at stretching the duration of the Siege to six months—­that they might be lifted by a short cut to promotion.  Such were our views of collectivism; and if the Military left ear did not tingle it must have been frost-bitten.

Mr. Rhodes liked the latest inscription on the Statute book as little as anybody else.  On Thursday he contributed one thousand pounds to the Widows’ and Orphans’ Fund.  We liked this liberality, and there was a consensus of opinion that the Colossus was a “wonder.”  During the day a Despatch Rider brought him a bundle of newspapers, which he rather indiscreetly handed to the Advertiser, to dole out at retail rates on sheets of notepaper.  Thus ’news much older than our ale went round’—­but no; the papers were dated only three weeks back, and we had had no ale for at least a month.  Any intelligence of the outside world, however, was interesting (save what we read of Belmont).  The details of Buller’s repulse at the Tugela did not make good reading.  What we read of streams of transports laden with troops was better; as also was the item that Warren—­who knew much of Boer wiles—­was steering through the Karoo.  We took it that he was to join Methuen, but were afterwards annoyed to learn that his destination