Nearly every night evangelistic services were held, conducted by some member of the tent staff of workers, or by an Army Scripture Reader, or an S.C.A. man.

Various social functions were successfully carried out, and our soldiers rejoiced over the good things provided for them.  They do not, as a rule, care for free teas at home.  You may coax them to go to them, as some benevolent ladies do; but they can afford to pay for what they get, and they prefer that plan.  The other only spoils them.  But abroad things are different, and Tommy of the capacious appetite took all he could get.  And so would you, my reader, had you been in his place.

The South African General Mission was also in evidence.  Mr. Spencer Walton kept sending good things into the camp of all kinds, and kept up his ministry of ‘comforts’ even after Ladysmith was reached.

Our old friends of the Soldiers’ Christian Association were, of course, to the fore.  They knew just how to do the rough-and-tumble work required.  Tommy could understand them, because they understood him.  Throughout the campaign there was evidence of Mr. Wheeler’s careful organizing.  His agents seem to have been most capable and successful men, ready for every good word and work, and the work itself such as will stand the test of time.

=Bivouac in a S.C.A.  Tent.=

Take this as a specimen of the readiness to take advantage of any and every opportunity.  Mr. Fleming writes from Frere Camp:—­

’We were preparing for a meeting last night, when we discovered something like Boers in the distance coming towards our camp, but they turned out to be S.A.L.H.  They pitched before our tent to bivouac for the night.  When they had dismounted the rain began to fall in torrents.  A major came over to me, and asked me where the canteen was; of course, it was shut.  I asked him what he wanted to buy, as perhaps I could help him.  He wanted socks.  I took him into my tent, and gave him a bath and a pair of socks—­made him a drop of “sergt.-majors’.”  His gratitude was unbounded.  He said, “Ah, this is true Christianity; you’re a brick, old boy.  Here’s a sovereign subscription for your kindness.”  I refused it.  “Well, I’ll never forget you!” “All right,” I said, “my name is on the socks”; then off I went to see about the others.  Met the colonel.  Offered him the freedom of our large marquee for his men to sleep in or shelter as they pleased.  He was most grateful, so in the midst of a dreadful rainfall about two hundred of these fellows found shelter.  All were hungry.  We had five boxes of biscuits for our own use, and fifteen gallons of gingerbeer.  Mr. Young, of the S.A.G.M., who was a great help to me, took a bucket of the gingerbeer and some biscuits to the men on duty on the lines.

’It was impossible to have our meeting, but we had individual dealing with several.  I never shall forget the sight of those men sleeping