luxurious and pleasant affair. I am a bit of a democrat, as you know,
and all for equality and the rights of man; but now I say, like Mesty,
when they made him a butler, "Dam equality now I major-domo."

Bloemfontein is a pretty little place, but it takes you by surprise. The
country round is, for endless leagues, so barren, a mere grassy,
undulating expanse of prairie land, with a few farms at ten-mile
intervals, that the appearance of a town seems incongruous. All of a
sudden you come to a crowd of low bungalow-like roofs under the shadow
of some flat-topped kopjes and realise the presence in this void of the
Free State capital.

The place is suggestive, in its low single storey houses and pretty
gardens, of quiet ease, and has a certain kindliness about it. It is
pleasant to see the creeper grown fronts and flower patches, and few
shady trees after our long sojourn in the veldt. But the one memorable
sight of the place, the scene of a special and unique interest, is the
Bloemfontein Club. This is the first time that the great army under Lord
Roberts has found itself in occupation of any town, and the first time,
therefore, that all its various contingents have had a chance of meeting
together in one place. At the Bloemfontein Club the chance has occurred,
and certainly never before, in any time or place, could you have seen
such representative gatherings of the British race from all parts of
the world as you will see if you stroll any day into the verandah and
smoking-room and bar of the Bloemfontein Club. From the old country and
from every British colony all over the world these men of one race, in a
common crisis, here for one moment meet, look into each others' faces,
drink, and greet and pass on; to be drawn back each to his own quarter
of the globe and separated when the crisis is passed and not to meet
again. But what a moment and what a meeting it is, and what a