War's Brighter Side Part 47

_So a soldier's life is the life for me, And the foe shall ne'er alarm me, As I slope my gun in Number One What's called "Long-Swabs" in the Army._

But now I understand them 'cause I know my way about, And comprehend the Sergeant's unintelligible shout; When he says: "Shooldare Hipe!" I know that he means: "Shoulder hup"

So I'm never for "Small-dodgers" and I never got "Built-up."

I'm not a mere "Jam-soldier," I've extended sure enough, And been made "a.s.sistant-bully" so I help to cook the "Duff."

I keep my kit and rifle clean, so's never to be rushed, And I've never been "done-tired" and I've never once been "pushed."

No, I've never once been "pushed."

_Then a soldier's life is the life for me, And the foe shall ne'er alarm me, And soon I shall be Corporal, What's called "Sauce-Jack" in the Army._

GLEANINGS FROM GREAT MINDS.

BY H. A. GWYNNE.

"The horse is the natural enemy of Man: the horse is the only animal that will dash himself over a precipice to avoid the shadow of his own feed-bag."--_Kipling._

"All civilians must remain in their houses after eight o'clock at night."--_Hints on Housekeeping_ (by Lord Roberts).

"Your Mounted Infantry--it is as much as they can do to keep their hats on."--_Albrecht_, captured Boer Artillerist.

"I call the Cavalry the Oh, Lor! regiments. They ride up to a kopje and stare about till they are fired at, when they say, "Oh, Lor," and gallop off."--_Albrecht._

"I'd rather be a coward all my life than a corpse half a minute."--_Solomon_ (junior).

OUR PORTRAIT GALLERY.

No. 3.

DR. A. CONAN DOYLE.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Dr. A. Conan Doyle.]

The accompanying wood-cut is a portrait of the well-known author, Dr.

A. Conan Doyle. The author of "Sherlock Holmes," who is so generously giving his time and whole-hearted attention to the sick and wounded, will, by the use of the "Holmesian method," be able to tell, without a moment's hesitation, at what period of his eventful life the photograph was taken, of which the accompanying block is a representation.

ANOTHER LETTER HOME.

BY CAPTAIN CECIL LOWTHER.

MY DEAR FATHER,--Since I last wrote to you we have been having a quiet time down South "pacifying the country." This consists in collecting arms--which we keep--and inviting the burghers to take oaths--which they don't keep--at least some of them don't. Every one seemed pleased to see us and very ready to tell all about their neighbours'

misdoings. If one believes only half of what one was told, the smiling little village where we were quartered must be only one station this side of a very warm place.

A spice of danger is added to police work if there are other detachments in the neighbourhood. It is this wise. Two of our captains who were out after springbok one day were suddenly glued to the ground by the well-known whistle of bullets over their heads. Leaving their respective hills after dark, they returned and, with quivering lips, recounted to us the dangers through which they had pa.s.sed. An eviction party was organised and a thorough search made for hidden rifles on the farm where the incident had occurred.

Not unnaturally, none were found, as we heard on our return that Stoke had been out with six Non-Commissioned Officers and had walked the country in line shooting at everything that moved.

You remember Stoke, don't you? He was the fellow who was not going to bring a knife and fork out with him as everybody on service would of course eat with his fingers.

Do you remember that rather pretty song that MacRavish in the A.S.C.

used to sing? "Lay down thy lute, my dearest." The Provost-Marshal has now adopted it for his own, and I have had to give up all the loot I had collected in the last three months. It is very disappointing, but I suppose he will give it back when his staff have taken what they want.

We have been having a bad time the last few days, as there are detachments of troops constantly pa.s.sing to the front, and unless one lies quite quiet they shoot at one. Their scouts, too, bang through the middle of the kitchens and camp "looking for the enemy," which is rather annoying for us, but it does not do to interfere.

All the rifles are supposed to have been given up in the neighbourhood, so I was hurt in two senses--when I sat down on a very hard sofa in a farm close by and found that the cushion was stuffed with two Mausers and a lot of ammunition. The farmer professed to be as surprised as I was, but I don't see why he should have objected to my taking them away. He said they must have been left there accidentally by Potgieter or Pienaar. As you cannot throw a stone without hitting some one of those two names his statement was rather indefinite, besides being untruthful. It is awfully good of you sending me out all those woollen comforters and meat tabloids, but next time you are sending I wish you could send me enough stuff to put a new seat and knees to my breeches, as they are both deficient at present and even on active service they scarcely come under the head of "luxuries."--Your affectionate son, "BERTIE."

RATION SCALE.

_Get all you can but don't take less._

It is all right to claim as much as you think you can get and to get all you really can, but in case of argument it may be just as well to have this little list stuck inside your helmet. You may know some way of getting more than this--striking the A.S.C. when it is badly rushed, or very sleepy--but if you reach the issue depot when it is too wide-awake for you, here is the list, just to make sure you'll not take less than regulations give you.

One man, one day:--Biscuits, 1 lb.; fresh bread, 1-1/2 lb.; preserved meat, 1 lb.; fresh meat, 1-1/4 lb.; coffee, 2/3 oz., or tea 1/3 oz., or 1/2 oz. of each; pepper, 1/36 oz.; salt, 1/2 oz.; sugar, 3 ozs.

(including sugar for lime-juice); compressed vegetables, 1 oz.; fresh vegetables, 8 oz. (when available); rice, 2 oz. (in lieu of vegetables); cheese, 2 oz. (in lieu of 4 oz. of meat); jam, 1/4 lb.

(three times a week); rum, 1/64 of gallon--when ordered; lime juice, 1/320 of a gallon, if certified to be necessary by the medical officer; candles, 1 per officer; office authorised canteen.

Meal or flour for natives 1 lb. a day, which may be increased to 1-1/4 lb. when supplies are plentiful; natives receive the same ration as soldiers with the exception of vegetables. Meal or flour is usually subst.i.tuted for bread.

Indians enjoy a special scale of rations.

Forage:--English horses: oats, 9 lbs.; oat-hay, 7 lbs.; bran, 3 lbs.; chaff, 2 lbs.

Colonial horses: Mealies, 8 lbs.; oat-hay, 4 lbs.; bran, 2 lbs.; chaff, 2 lbs.

Mules: Mealies, 5 lbs.; bran or chaff, 2 lbs.

To officers.--If you countersign a claim for any more than this you had better be sure it is in the hands of a very "trustworthy" man, who can bluff it through, and get the A.S.C. men mixed up. If he doesn't know his way about they'll catch him up and send him back.

HUNGRY BLOEMFONTEIN.

BY J. W. JENKINS.

[_A young Philadelphian who very cleverly united in his own work and person the entire reportorial staff of the paper._]

This town is hungry. The shops are practically bare. Nothing worth speaking of comes to market. The matter has pa.s.sed from the stage at which it might be regarded as a joke. Bloemfontein really hungers for necessary articles of diet, and it has one week in which to raise an extra appet.i.te before the first train of foodstuffs comes to its stores. The hopes of two trucks a day for Bloemfontein merchants, held out two weeks ago by the Imperial Military Railway Officials, have proved vain. The two trucks never came. The line has been taken up wholly by the transportation of troops and army supplies. Next Thursday, however, unless the present plan is changed, a train of 20 trucks will leave Port Elizabeth with goods for merchants here. There will be one train a week thereafter. All day on Wednesday and Thursday the business men flocked to the Director of Supplies, who will a.s.sign to each his proportion of tonnage.

For a week the best families of Bloemfontein have been without b.u.t.ter or sugar. The hospitals have commandeered nearly all the fresh milk.

There is not a can of condensed milk to be bought in town, nor a can of jam, nor of cocoa, nor a pound of coffee. The last candles sold in town were sent in from a country store. They disappeared in a day. The town depends for its potatoes on the few which come into town every morning.

The daily supply of fresh vegetables is so small as to be hardly worth mentioning.