was then), and one had in a very literal sense to live.  A man had sometimes to stand from six to eight o’clock in the morning to buy his paltry bit of offal, hoof, or fat, as the case might be, and after he had rested on his feet for two hours his turn would come to draw his miserable allowance—­if somebody else had not drawn it for him.  Such accidents happened often enough to make a good many foreswear meat altogether.  Usually, however, the unfortunate would be consoled with a “precedence ticket”—­for next day! so that he could live on the certainty of a succulent morrow.  From ten o’clock to four might be passed in waiting for one’s grocery ticket; and, finally, from four to six could be whiled away at the crowded store in a frantic effort to catch the State assistant’s eye.  Oh, it was a happy epoch in our lives—­an epoch during which vows were registered against being “let in” for such happiness again, or against living it through while a ’bare bodkin’ was left unconfiscated.

It was the last day of the year, with nothing to elate us but the coming of Bobs.  Hope deferred maketh the heart sick; ours were so ill that but for Bobs they must have ceased to beat.  It was disconcerting to learn that Warren was in Natal, for it had been stated that Methuen was merely waiting Sir Charles to join him ere again attempting to fight his way to Kimberley.

New Year’s Day!  New Year’s Day, indeed!  Our Scotchmen sighed.  Black tea for breakfast on New Year’s Day was too much for them, and not a few of them (and others) felt constrained to take kopje dew instead.  They drank brandy—­so labelled in the tavern, but more widely notorious as “lyddite” in the town.  Brandy had crimes committed in its name, and lyddite was a happy and appropriate appellation.  Even vinegar could not counteract the effects of lyddite (i.e. bottled lyddite).  As for the materials used in the manufacture of this explosive, well—­necessity is the mother of invention; and the invention was well protected.  It was only noted that methylated spirits and certain chemicals were scarce; and a suspicion prevailed that these were lyddite ingredients—­a suspicion which afterwards proved to be well-founded when publicans were prosecuted for using them as such.  One of the peculiarly lamentable features of the Siege was a certain tendency on the part of men, who drank little or nothing in normal times, to dissipate in desperation on this unique brand of brandy.

It was dry bread with many on New Year’s Day.  Even syrup was extinct.  Nothing remained, to be taken or left (they were generally left), but a few jars of treacle.  Dripping graced the table, but nobody touched it; it was too ghastly pale for a substitute, too unctuous for anything.  The poor Native’s breakfast was of “mealie-pap” exclusively; and from a hygienic standpoint he was perhaps better off than any of us.