War's Brighter Side Part 46
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CIRCULATION, APRIL 11, 5,500.
The circulation of THE FRIEND is as large as that of all the Bloemfontein papers combined.[18]
[Footnote 18: This was a transparent joke, as there was no other paper in the town. But, joking apart, there never had been a newspaper in that country or region with such a circulation as ours enjoyed; yet it could have been twice as large had we employed our carts to circulate it in the outlying camps.--J. R.]
DOTS OR NO DOTS.
_All about the New Stamp Issue._
BY MORTIMER MENPES.
How strange a thing it is that so small a matter as a general taste for collecting stamps should, as it were, elevate a man at a single bound into a position where his slightest tact at discrimination in detecting the difference of shades between two bits of paper of the same colour will sway and determine the destinies of a horde of fanatical collectors!
That a man should occupy so exalted a position was accidentally brought to my notice after a return to Bloemfontein from a run to the Cape, where I found the Market Square, the club, the hotels and the street corners grouped with people who appeared to be intensely interested in the discussion of some all-important subject. Thinking that some radical proclamation had been issued, I paused to listen, but instead of legal phrase and technical form greeting my ear, the only intelligible word which I could detect in the buzz which emanated from the centre of the group was "Dot."
I pa.s.sed on to another group, where the same "dot" arrested my attention; then to a third, which was also "dotty,"
until, feeble and bewildered, I helplessly wandered about on the verge of an incurable "dottiness" myself.
Finally, I pulled myself together again and, blind to all danger, plunged into a group of "dotters," grasped one of them by the arm, and in reply to my appeals heard him hiss, as he roughly shook me off, "Surcharged stamps, you fool, misprinted, without dots." Then I understood. My curiosity was stimulated, I soon learned the subtle differences which add to or subtract value from the surcharged Free State stamps. Finally I became the proud possessor of a dotless one myself. That settled it; I became hopelessly "dotty"
myself, and to the end of my natural days will always realise that affairs of State, literature, art, even money, are secondary to the importance of obtaining "the entire set," especially if they are from "the bottom row" and "dotless." This mania has taken possession of the entire army.
From Tommy to General, the last biscuit or a drink of whisky, or a pa.s.s to be out after 8 p.m. can be extracted after a dozen refusals by producing a dotless stamp.
Kruger could end this cruel war in an afternoon by simply sending out a dozen men mounted on swift horses, wearing white coats with the entire set without dots pasted on the back. These scouts should be unarmed and should ride in close to our lines and then turn round showing their backs.
The moment the army would see the set, they would make a rush, and all the scouts would have to do would be to ride fast enough and in different directions, and by nightfall the Imperial forces would be hopelessly scattered, and lost in the boundless veldt. Kruger's scouts would be perfectly safe, for no one would dare to raise a rifle in their direction. Such an act might bring down a set; but imagine if you can the fate of the miscreant if one dotless stamp should be punctured or if--horrible thought!--a chance scattering of the lead should dot some of the precious bits of paper!
In my inquiries during the first stage of this disease, I found that Major O'Meara was the supreme authority on this subject. I found the Major seated in a small room of the National Bank sorting out from a huge collection the stamps which were to be surcharged. For three hours I watched him, as with wonderful skill and discrimination he picked out bits of paper which were obsolete and which an accidental surcharging would have made of untold value, and set the whole world of collectors into a palpitating hysteria of speculation, until finally catalogued and bought by some multi-millionaire bent upon ruining himself to appease his craze. That all the legally surcharged stamps are carefully catalogued in the Major's busy brain will doubtless surprise at some no distant date a few rascally speculators, who, possessing obsolete issues, have surrept.i.tiously surcharged them, in the hope of creating a rarity to sell at fabulous prices. Leaving the Major's presence, I realised that the last stage of dotlessphobia had fastened itself on me, and, knowing that recovery is hopeless, have abandoned myself to full indulgence, hoping to derive at least some miserable satisfaction before the end. With this one reservation, I am determined never to surrender to the universal stamp collector's weakness of stealing. Others may walk uprightly through six days of the week about their ordinary affairs and turn aside on Sunday afternoon from the path of blindness to pilfer another collector's treasure while his face is turned away, out of politeness, to sneeze.
But I; no, I shall never, never, no--I won't steal.
CHAPTER XXVII
A NOTABLE NUMBER
_Captain Cecil Lowther joins the Wits and Poets again. A Report by Mr. Jenkins, who was "our Staff in himself."_
Mr. Buxton wrote the stern editorial, "Judge ye," with which we led off the issue of April 14th. He reminded the Free Staters that England had, at the outset, no quarrel with them, but on the contrary had given them the "solemn a.s.surance" that their independence and territory should be respected. The people of the little Republic had been led astray, had suffered conquest, and now were able to judge between the wicked whisperings of the two Presidents and the promptings of common sense and of regard for their future, "for,"
wrote Mr. Buxton, "brothers you must be with us, heirs and possessors of world-wide citizens.h.i.+p and Empire."
We had recorded our first wedding, and now was the day when we received the first application from an English firm desiring to advertise in our columns. A well-known house-furnis.h.i.+ng firm were the enterprising inquirers. They said that they looked for a great development of the country and meant to send agents there when the war ended. On our part we made this request the basis of an editorial in which we said that this business letter "foreshadows the coming changes in local conditions with a prophetic touch."
Mr. Gwynne concocted a clever set of quotations which he called "Gleanings from Great Minds," and we published number three of our series of home-made portraits, choosing Dr. A. Conan Doyle as the subject. At this the Army at last began to whisper and suspect, and many a smile greeted each allusion to our enterprise.
But our _chef d'oeuvre_ was a second contribution by "Bertie," whom all our readers knew to be none other than the handsome, the witty, the travelled, and the popular Adjutant of the Scots Guards, Captain Cecil Lowther. As the first letter had already been published in the _Household Brigade Magazine_ I will not repeat it here, but the one that is now reproduced will give a lively hint of what our readers missed by the fact that Captain Lowther was away on duty in the boggy, sodden veldt, and could neither write nor think of writing, even to THE FRIEND.
A large collection is made from this issue of the paper of April 14th.
All that is in this book reflects the excitement, the routine, and the dramatic and picturesque phases of a soldier's life, as well as the strange situations and conditions produced by the conquest and occupation of a city in war. If that is true (and it is true in a very great degree as I believe), then in no chapter are more of all these novel views of irregular life mirrored than in this. From this you shall learn what a soldier had in the way of rations, how a great and majestic mind dealt with the rumours that British prisoners were being far from generously, or even humanely, dealt with by the semi-civilised foe; how a polished wit out of his superabundant humour found time to set down his sparkling thoughts in a soaking wet camp or a cold, wet plain, within sniping distance of the enemy, and finally, how drained of almost every line of foodstuffs, medicines, clothing, and luxuries the over-burdened town we lived in was becoming.
PRICE: PRICE: ONE PENNY. THE FRIEND. ONE PENNY.
(_Edited by the War Correspondents with Lord Roberts' Force._)
BLOEMFONTEIN, SAt.u.r.dAY, APRIL 14, 1900.
SICK AND WOUNDED PRISONERS.
The following communication has been addressed to President Kruger:--
From Field Marshal Lord Roberts, Commanding in Chief in South Africa, to His Honour the President, S.A. Republic, Pretoria,
_April 12, 1900._
It has been reported to me that the Non-Commissioned Officers and men of Her Majesty's Colonial Forces, who have been made prisoners of war, are treated as criminals and confined in Pretoria jail, where they are very badly fed. It has also been brought to my notice that at the beginning of March there were ninety cases of enteric fever and dysentery among the Non-Commissioned Officers and men in the camp at Waterval, and that, as Dr. Haylett, the Medical Officer in charge, failed to obtain from your Government the medicines and medical comforts which he required for the sick, he resigned, Dr. von Greldt being appointed in his place.
It is stated that the prisoners at Waterval have to bivouac on the open veldt without overhead shelter and with only a layer of straw to lie on, while the sick are placed under an open shed with iron roof. I am informed that it was only upon Dr. von Greldt threatening to resign that medicines and mattresses were supplied for the sick. I can hardly believe that your Honour is aware or approves of the harsh treatment of the prisoners belonging to the Colonial Forces, or of the want of consideration shown to the prisoners at Waterval. The former are Her Majesty's subjects, are duly enlisted, are subject to military discipline, and wear uniform. According to the recognised customs of war, they are ent.i.tled to be treated in the same way as any other soldiers of Her Britannic Majesty, and I must remind your Honour that all prisoners captured by the troops under my command are equally well treated, whether they are burghers or foreigners. The utmost care has been taken of your sick and wounded, and no distinction has been made in the field hospitals between them and our own soldiers.
[Ill.u.s.tration: _The Front Page of "The Friend" of April 4, 1900._]
I invite your Honour's early attention to this matter, and I request that orders may be given for the Non-Commissioned Officers and men of the Colonial Forces to be released from jail and to be treated, not as criminals, but as prisoners of war.
I also request that the prisoners at Waterval may be provided with overhead shelter, and that the sick and wounded may be properly entertained and taken care of in accordance with Article Six of the Geneva Convention.
MY COMRADES' CONVERSATION.
(ANONYMOUS.)
When I was quite a young recruit, not very long ago, My comrades' conversation was a talk I didn't know; I really thought to some far-distant country I'd been s.h.i.+pped When they said I was a "jowler," and described me as "just nipped."
If I was "slightly dragged," or with my "praco" couldn't cope, They said I'd "lost my monnicker" and earned an "extra slope,"
And, though I'm known as Ferdinand to all my kin and kith, They went and dropped my Christian name and called me "Dusty Smith."
They called me "Dusty Smith."
_But a soldier's life is the life for me, And the foe shall ne'er alarm me, For you won't feel queer on "Drug-hole beer,"
What's called "three-thick" in the Army._
I asked them what my food would be. They said: "Your food? Oh, that's 'Meat,' 'jipper,' 'spuds' and 'rooti,' with occasional 'top-hats.'"
They said I'd find coal-hugging quite a lively little job, Then they put me "on the timber" and they called me "Junior Swab."
But when my work was over, after "tapping up" a bit, I'd take my own "square missus" out--you bet we made a hit.
And when I had to go on guard she'd come there every day To see me marching down the street and hear the "fiddlers" play.
Just to hear the "fiddlers" play.
War's Brighter Side Part 46
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