ment had
attracted most attention. The idea was not a bad one; it was
practicable, and had much to commend it. But still the feeling of the
people was that so long as they were allowed an _unmixed_ ration of the
roast beef of old England or young Australia (same Empire) it was
preferable that they should be permitted to make their own soup--a poor
thing, perhaps; but their own.

The advent of a joint more accustomed to shafts than to skewers,
however, was a horse of a different colour; so different, in fact, that
all the virtues of a great common kitchen, the saving it would effect,
and the good side of Collectivism generally, dawned simultaneously upon
everybody by some magical inspiration. The advantages of a Soup-house
were at once recognised, and the wisdom of such a creation was
immediately acclaimed by a host of astute correspondents. The idea took
root, germinated, "caught on," so to say, as the one and only panacea
for our ills. So strongly was the scheme approved that arrangements for
the flotation of a semi-philanthropic, semi-military company were
settled forthwith. All the best names available (for reasons which will
be more obvious in due time) were placed on the list of Directors. Mr.
Rhodes, the millionaire, would not lend his name for inscription on a
_prospectus_ that was not _bona fide_; and such respected signatories as
Mr. and Mrs. Maguire, Doctor Smartt (who also was "well," bedad), and
other public personages of high character and probity were a good
guarantee for the quality and purity of the State Soup; while the skill
of Captain Tyson (who undertook the duties of honorary _chef_) was
incontestable. All these names were easily procured. It was laid down
with solemn emphasis, as a primary article of faith, that the soup was
to be made from oxflesh, and nothing but oxflesh. The horse was to be
banned! That was the cardinal condition of the success anticipated for
the venture; and the guarantees on this head were, in view of the
_status_ of the guarantors, accepted unreservedly. Mr. Rhodes, indeed,
went a step further than the rest; he guaranteed a contribution of
vegetables from the De Beers garden; and the Colonel, not to be outdone,
permitted the soup to be thickened with mealie meal. The allowance was
to be at the rate of one pint per adult, at three-pence per pint. That
the value given for the humble "tickey" was good the success of the
scheme proved beyond contention. Hundreds of pints were di