It faded a great deal when typhoid fever broke out in the Light Horse camp. The outbreak was attributed to the uncertain water we had to use, since the purer supply had been cut off. The new water was none too good. We had been repeatedly warned to boil it before drinking it, and were now adjured to do so. A large number heeded the warning, but the perverse majority heeded it not; they did not find it convenient to spare fuel to boil what was not essential to the creation of the "cup that cheers" when there is milk in it. Scurvy was playing havoc with the native population. These trials and tribulations did not enhance our festive dispositions on the eve of Christmas. A programme of sports attracted all the Tapleys; but there was little until evening, when the scramble for the good cheer that was _not_ in the shops had begun, to enable one to remember that Yule was nigh. The scene was one that will be long remembered in the Diamond City. It was only the very large stores that had anything to sell. Before the war broke out Abrahams and Co. had purchased an immense stock of foodstuffs; but a great hole had been made in it, and it was to be much greater _after_ Christmas. It was at Abrahams', therefore, that the multitude swarmed. The traffic in sweet peas, jams, and raisins was heavy. Boer meal with imported raisins in it was the richest possible pudding! The sale of sweets was unprecedented--so unprecedented that toothache was an epidemic until French relieved it. How the shop assistant clung to his reason is a mystery which has yet to be solved. Behind the counter he was hampered by the local _elite_: Judges, Doctors, Directors, etc., who would never say die (from hunger) while they lived. Outside the counter the madding throng felt likewise. But the great ones were able to help themselves; they inspected the shelves, perused the labels of every antiquated sauce and pickle bottle in stock since the "early days," and placed the best of these relics of a pre-consolidated era in heaps aside for Monday's dinner. There were special constables on duty within and without the store, which was as full as an egg; and when after a while it was apparent that this congestion retarded business, the hundred Christians nearest the door were hustled into the street with all the "good will" in the world. But the relief came too late; the clock struck nine ere half the multitude were served--or even formally satisfied that blood is not in turnips. Of the merry season we were wont to enjoy, the busy throng was the sole reminiscence. Its good things were absent. But that bitter truth did not make less keen our hunt the slipper pursuit of Christmas fare. CHAPTER XI _Week ending 30th December, 1899_