That whatsoever king may reign,
I'll be Vicar of Bray, Sir."

So were there Dutch predikants who were decidedly anti-British while
the British were over the hills and far away; but who fell in love
with the Union Jack the moment it arrived; even if they did not set it
fluttering from their own chimney-top. One such our chaplain with
the Australian Bushmen met at Zeerust. When the Bushmen arrived this
predikant was one of the first to welcome them, and helped to hoist
the British flag. Then "the Roineks," that is the "red neck" English,
retired for a while, and De La Rey arrived; whereupon the resident
Boers went wild with joy, and whistled and shouted one of their
favourite songs, "Vat jougoed entrek," which means "Pack your traps
and trek." That was a broad hint to all pro-Britishers. So this
interesting predikant hauled down the Union Jack, which his sons
instantly tore to tatters, ran up the Boer flag, and drove De La Rey
hither and thither in his own private carriage. Though to our
Australian chaplain he expressed, still later on, his deep regret that
"the Hollanders had forced the President into making war on England,"
when Lord Methuen, in the strange whirligig of war, next drove out De
La Rey from this same Zeerust, our versatile predikant's turn soon
came to "Pack his traps and trek." Even in South Africa "Ye cannot
serve two masters."

[Sidenote: _The Welsh Chaplain._]

After one day's rest at Brandfort the Guards resumed their march, and
aided by some fighting, in which the Australians took a conspicuous
part, we reached the Vet River, and encamped near its southern banks
for the night. Here the newly-appointed Wesleyan Welsh chaplain, Rev.
Frank Edwards, overtook me; and until it could be decided where he was
to go or what he was to do, he was invited to become my brother-guest
at the Grenadiers' mess.

The next day being Sunday Mr Edwards had a speedy opportunity of
learning how little the best intentioned chaplain can accomplish when
at the front in actual war time. It was the sixth Sunday in succession
I was doomed to spend, not in doing the work of a preacher but of a
pedestrian. All other chaplains were often in the same sad but
inevitable plight; and though Mr Edwards had come from far of set
purpose to preach Christ in the Welsh tongue to Welshmen, had all the
camp been Welsh he would that day have found himself absolutely
helpless. We were all on the march; and the only type of Ch