Probably the most interesting character in Mbabane is known to every one as "Matt." He is an accountant by profession. His nose has made him famous, and I am sure there is not another like it in the whole world. It is immense in size and has all the vivid tints of the "rum-nose" that distinguishes the confirmed tippler. All strangers are advised to see Matt's nose or count their visit to Mbabane a rank failure. There are a number of stories about him, one of the best being about his experience as an inmate of the gaol. It seems that he was accountant for a trading company and had made a mess of its books. Money was missing and he could not account for it. Although it was felt that he had not taken it, yet he was responsible and was sentenced to gaol for six months. Now the warden of the gaol trusted Matt and put him to work on the books. In addition, he used to loan Matt to do little jobs of carpentering and painting at houses in the village. This led to trouble. The little tin shanty, by courtesy "The Hotel," was much like some of the saloons in the "cow towns" of the old West in the United States. Ranchers, traders, and adventurers would congregate there and tell stories while they drank gin, whiskey, and combinations of the same. Matt was in the habit of passing the "hotel" each evening on his return to the gaol, and soon the roisterers began inviting him in to have a drink or two. One night there was a particularly joyous party, and Matt drank so much that he forgot to return to the gaol on time. It was midnight before he got there, and the jailer had already gone to bed. Matt went to his house and woke him, and this annoyed the official very much. So much so, in fact, that he refused to get up and let Matt into the gaol. Matt was reduced to the ignominy of returning to the hotel and bunking there. Next morning he made a charge against the jailer for not allowing him to serve out his sentence! Commissioner Honey discharged him and reprimanded the jailer for neglect of duty. Some years before Snyman had been postmaster at Mbabane and had made many friends, with the result that he had a most enjoyable visit. The morning we left to continue our trek to Zombode he was approached by Manaan, an old Swazi chief, who wanted to shake hands with him. Manaan was a typical kaffir, and Snyman told me a story about him which well illustrates the characteristics of the breed. "When I was at the post-office here," Snyman said, "Manaan and some of his sons went to the Transvaal to work in the gold mines. According to the law, their money was deposited for them in the savings-bank at Johannesburg, and the whole amount was put in the name of the old chief. I was still postmaster when Manaan and his sons returned to Swaziland.