r than our ale went round'--but
no; the papers were dated only three weeks back, and we had had no ale
for at least a month. Any intelligence of the outside world, however,
was interesting (save what we read of Belmont). The details of Buller's
repulse at the Tugela did not make good reading. What we read of streams
of transports laden with troops was better; as also was the item that
Warren--who knew much of Boer wiles--was steering through the Karoo. We
took it that he was to join Methuen, but were afterwards annoyed to
learn that his destination was Natal. The situation in Natal appeared to
be serious. Still, our opinions of our spoonfeeders remained unaltered;
we still assumed that they suppressed or minimised the seriousness of
things in Kimberley. Our attitude was perhaps uncharitable, and
deserving of the rope--of half-hanging at least; but the weather was so
hot; we felt so hungry and thirsty. There was no need to starve us, to
deny us bread; we believed that we might be safely granted a slice or
two more--until the British flag was hoisted in Pretoria. We had, it is
true, rather hugged the delusion that it would have been up for
Christmas Day. But even in the light of that error of judgment we could
appreciate the puerility of conserving supplies as if the dogs of war
were to go on barking until doomsday.

A special meeting of the City Council was held in the afternoon; and
although opinions were divided as to the precise form its protest
against the new order of things should take, nobody doubted that it was
for such a purpose the meeting was convened. We were all wrong. It was
simply resolved at the Town House to wish the Queen a Happy New Year;
and thereby demonstrate not only the unswerving loyalty of her distant
subjects, but their _sang froid_ also in days of stress and danger. It
was an excellent idea; the taking off of hats to the Queen was general.
The Colonel signalled to Lord Methuen; that gentleman communicated with
Sir Alfred Milner; and he in turn cabled Kimberley's sentiments to Her
Majesty. There was no mention of the bread; it was an omission; but it
might have sounded "conditional," irrelevant, or even have detracted
from the value of our good wishes; and it was hardly worth risking being
suspected of loyalty to one's bread--unbuttered! Besides, our friend the
enemy (the Colonel, not the Boer) personally supervised the despatch of
messages, and he was quite artful enough to suppress reference t