Punch, or The London Charivari | Page 9

subsequently that word was spelt "mijinpacht," which is African-Dutch for "lease." Well, why didn't he say so before? Of course I have, and plenty of 'em; else why am I here?
To-day went to see the ore in the Robinson Crusoe Mines. As D.W. would say, "The site strikes me with ore!"
Much interested, of course, in inspecting the Salisbury Mine. Naturally, I put in my claim for the Salisbury. What's in a name and a family, if one can't get some good out of 'em? Intend to start the "Uncle Mine." Fine chance. Any place where there's a large and fluctuating Pop-ulation (with emphasis on the "Pop"), the Uncle Mine is a certainty." But Oh, for the "pop,"--I mean the dear old fizz,--and the older it is, the dearer it is,--at the Amphitryon.
"IS LIFE WORTH LIVING?"
The Transvaal's the place for living in. Here life is life, be it never so lively. The only nuisance is the Boer; and the Boer's a hass, or rather a mule. That's my opinion of Boers individually and collectively; I make no concessions to them; hang 'em, they've already got enough. If this country had been in the hands of Englishmen, or Americans, or both jointly (talking of jointly, we'd have had better dinners than we get now but of this anon--) with a certain person whom I can mention, and who is not a hundred miles distant from the present writer at this moment, as Head of affairs, an Imperial ruler, with power to add to his number (which number would be One, and would remain so), then this country, in a very short time, would have ruled the world. What ports, what champagnes, what railroads, what shipping, what commerce, what an Imperial Parliament, with the Despot in the Chair in both Houses, all speeches, except the Despot's, limited to five minutes apiece, and no reduction on talking a quantity. Oh, for one hour of this power, and the Amphitryon be blowed! Aha! Grandolphus Africanus Protector to begin with; Grandolphus Africanus Rex to go on with; and Grandolphus Africanissimmus Imperator to finish with!
REMORSE AND REGRET.
[Illustration: Grandolphus Africanus.]
Now to dinner! On what? Yah! tough beef, woolly mutton and stringy chicken. And to think that but for the Boers, the beastly Boers, we should have had the finest teal, wild duck, venison, goslings, asparagus, French beans, best Welsh mutton, and real turtle soup every day au choix!! But what did the Boers do? Why, they ascertained that skins and feathers, and shells, were valuable, whereupon they went to work, shot everything everywhere, sold skins and feathers, and shells! So that deer and birds hadn't a chance. If they popped out, pop went the guns like the original weasel, which some years ago was always popping, and the poor dumb animals with the pleading eyes and the tender flesh were slaughtered wholesale. In this manner, too, the game soon came to an end, as it must do whenever the game is so one-sided as it was here. Then, as I have said, the shells were valuable! The shells! What chance had the tortoise and the turtle? "'Tis the voice of the turtle, I heard him complain." (What's that from? That's from WATTS--eh?) What chance had the peas, however wild? or a bean as broad as one of ----'s after-dinner stories? Ah! it makes me sad and angry, and once again I cry Oh, for an hour, and that the dinner-hour, aboard the Grantully Castle! Ay! even though the G.O.M. were on board; for he could appreciate the daily Currie which to me is now perdu. Well! so to dinner "with what appetite I may," and then on to Pretoria, of which place I think I shall change the name to Pre-radicallia or Pre-fourthpartia. You see Pre-toria implies one who was Toryer than a Tory. Aha! what is my scheme? Do you see the picture? GRANDOLPHUS IMPERATOR REX AURIFERORUM MEORUM (Latin�� for "Mines") surrounded by his Pretorian Guards.
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SPORT TO US!
[Illustration: "What larks! Killed four-and-twenty blackbirds all in a row! at one shot!!!"]
Went out shooting before dinner. Killed one wild turkey, after an awful struggle, in which I very nearly got the worst of it; but fortunately the turkey was unarmed, though for all that he used his drumsticks in such a manner as in a little more would have brought flocks of other furious wild turkeys on to the scene, had I not, with great presence of mind and one small bullet out of my spring-pea rifle managed to crack the parchment-like skin which covers his drum, and at the same time broken one of his sticks. Then, he fell. Carried him home on my back. What larks! Killed four-and-twenty blackbirds at one shot as they were all sitting in a row on a rail.