As the men all seem so well satisfied with these Boer ponies, it might be a good plan after the war to start a big Government breeding station out here, in some bit of healthy grass country. A man told me they could ship horses to England for about £20 for the voyage, and that if it was undertaken in a proper way, it ought not to cost more than about £5 to rear a horse, or perhaps £7 to put a four-year-old on board ship, so they could have one of the best landed in England for under £30, where there is so much trouble about getting the right kind of horses in sufficient numbers. They would be suitable for work in almost any climate, as they have to put up with such rapid changes of temperature here. We have lately had a R.A.M.C. Major here, partly as a patient and partly as a visitor. He was in Ladysmith through the siege, and had very hard work (so many doctors ill); then he was sent down to a hospital ship as a patient, and very soon the C.O. was called away, and he was put in charge while still ill. He has been three trips in her, and seems to have had a lot of work and worry, and now he is ordered to go up and take charge of a 500-bed hospital, and is not in the least fit for it. They won't spare any R.A.M.C. men to be invalided home just now, as they seem to want to weed out all the civil surgeons first. This man wants the most careful feeding to get him right; at first I was always running after him with egg flips or some little feed, but now he is beginning to enjoy ordinary food better. I have heard a good deal about the siege from him: he tells me it was awful being responsible for sick men and not being able to get things for them. At one time he had 400 very sick under his charge, and all he could get for them was five, or sometimes six, small tins of condensed milk a day, when they all needed milk. He says that the men had no time to convalesce: it was three days up and out of bed, and then straight to the trenches; the poor fellows were so awfully weak that they used to have to send a mule waggon to cart them down. They put a rifle in their hands, and carted them back again at night. For a short time, too, we had another Major for a "rest and feed up"; he is an M.P. when he is at home, but was out here with the Yeomanry. He is also on the mend now. I have had the very sweetest puppy given to me--a little black spaniel. He has been christened "Bobs," and he follows me about everywhere.