by two horses with arched necks and driven by a charioteer who sat on
a little seat in front. It was a highly ornamented, springless vehicle
of wood and gilded, something like a packing-case with a pole, or as
we should call it in South Africa, a disselboom, to which the horses
were harnessed. In this cart I stood arrayed in flowing robes fastened
round my middle by a studded belt, with strips of coloured cloth wound
round my legs and sandals on my feet. To my mind the general effect of
the attire was distinctly feminine and I did not like it at all.

I was glad to observe, however, that the I of those days was anything
but feminine. Indeed I could never have believed that once I was so
good-looking, even over two thousand years ago. I was not very tall
but extremely stalwart, burly almost, with an arm that as I could
observe, since it projected from the sleeve of my lady's gown, would
have done no discredit to a prize-fighter, and a chest like a bull.

The face also I admired very much. The brow was broad; the black eyes
were full and proud-looking, the features somewhat massive but well-
cut and highly intelligent; the mouth firm and shapely, with lips that
were perhaps a trifle too thick; the hair--well, there was rather a
failure in the hair, at least according to modern ideas, for it curled
so beautifully as to suggest that one of my ancestors might have
fallen in love with a person of negroid origin. However there was lots
of it, hanging down almost to the shoulders and bound about the brow
by a very neat fillet of blue cloth with silver studs. The colour of
my skin, I was glad to note, was by no means black, only a light and
pleasing brown such as might have been produced by sunburn. My age, I
might add, was anywhere between five and twenty and five and thirty,
perhaps nearer the latter than the former, at any rate, the very prime
of life.