Visited tent to which I sent little brandy yesterday; found child had just died; too late.

Gave old woman at 34, children and grandchildren, earnest talking-to this afternoon; old woman, over seventy, quite callous as to religion; no “behoefte” (sense of need):  “Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth.”

Old Mr. Van Heerde, whom I visited two days ago, died in night.  Great consternation about little boy in 348; was getting on so well, and actually dead this morning.  Doctor completely upset; he took great trouble with this child; poor little chap, he had such a bonny little face.

Our kitchen we are building, getting on famously; I stand good for bricks and wood; we need about 1,000 bricks; quite a great affair, and will prove a blessing.

Gave out “briefies” to-day, but fear that I shall give up the job; what use, when they return empty-handed, or with but half the things!  Sorely vexed in my soul at the treatment I receive.  Why ask me to issue briefies?

Washing-stand looks handsome, thanks to Stienie; oilcloth will make it quite spruce.

Young man addressed me quite intimate-like this afternoon, “En wat schrijf maat in de boekie?” ("Mate, what are you writing in that book?”)

Mr. Becker funerals; don’t know number.

* * * * *

Thursday, September 12.—­News from Steytler[39]; sent away from Potchefstroom; let me be doubly careful.  I am so attached to my work now, love it, that it would be a grievous burden were I compelled to give it up[40].

Only there is too much, too much to do, and if I visit one side of the Camp, the other side has to be neglected.  Five would have their hands comfortably full here, and then there would be less “oorslaan” (neglect).

I am continually asked to visit new sick people; there seems to be no end to all the sickness.

The woman in 34 is very bad; next door to 626 is also great misery; children very sick and without medical attendance.  That is so sorrowful; the number of tents where no doctor comes[41], the absence of invalid food and nourishment; the hard, bare floor (heard of a case yesterday where grass had begun to grow under sick bed); the despair and helplessness of the mothers.

Another burden—­no lights!  There are numbers of tents where there is sickness, in some cases dying people, and where to-night there is not an inch of candle.

Pathetic sight yesterday; mother melting odd ends and scraps of tallow and fat to make some sort of candle; daughter on brink of death.

Wonder what plan they have made to-night for light!

Girl 71 still alive; wonderful.

Funerals—­nine, I believe; great crowd; calamity; one grave short, and coffin had to be returned; women faint; consternation.

Upset, and couldn’t pick my thread in address, “En ziet een groote schaar die niemand tellen kon” (And lo! a great multitude which no man could number).  These funerals most painful and wearying, and then the burden of having to give address.