staple comprises the current coin of the country. His clip is weighed
off in due course, and he proceeds to the store and sits down while
the clerk figures up the amount. You may be foolish enough to ask him
if he will buy a plough or a bag of coffee, but he continues to smoke
hard and expectorate all over the floor without giving a definite
reply. He wants to handle the money first, and then he will arrange
about his purchases. Within half an hour he will probably have in his
pocket two or three hundred golden sovereigns (he does not look upon
bank-notes with favour; he wants something hard and substantial), and
he will at once proceed to the matter of buying. At the end of the day
his waggon is loaded up with a variety of household and agricultural
necessities, for which he has paid, say, £150 of the money received
for his wool. This is his way of doing things, and he thinks it is the
right one.

During the Boer War of 1880 merchants in the Free State had a bad time
of it. The Boers were, of course, very much excited, and the English
merchant was looked upon scornfully and contemptuously. One Boer had
already drawn up a memorandum of what he considered should be the
_modus operandi_ in dealing with the storekeepers. Two or three were
to be hanged, and the others were to be tied up in front of their own
buildings and shot down like crows. That was in Harrismith.

The Boer has not much to boast of in the matter of brains, but what he
does possess he is careful not to abuse. A man can abuse his brains in
many ways--by taking to strong drink, for instance. I have been among
Boers for some years, and I can honestly say that I never yet saw a
Boer the worse for drink. He may indulge occasionally, but he very
seldom carries the practice to excess. When he does take it he likes
it strong--as strong as he can get it. He scorns the idea of mixing it