Mr. Buxton had been called away to Capetown just after Mr. Kipling's arrival, and my associates, hag-ridden by the confusion and annoyances consequent upon the lack of a practised head to the little institution, had thrust upon me the honour and hard work of what may be called the managing editor's place. Thenceforth it was my duty to deal with the gnomes in the dust hall, the retiring and reticent cashier in another building, and the inmates of the Home for Boer Compositors, otherwise known as the office of the late unlamented _Express_. When I saw the genius of the Master thrust to the bottom corner of the paper, or made grotesque by mis-spelling and exhibitions of "pi," I felt that I alone was to blame, and hid myself and vowed to produce better results if I had to set up the type myself. From an able major of Engineers we received for this number a confident and well-studied reply to Mr. Gwynne's articles on the effects of the war upon military science. * * * * * [Illustration: The Dinner of the 28th of March 1900 At Bloemfontein. _1st page of Menu._] [Illustration: _2nd page of Menu._] [Illustration: MENU. Tomato Soup. Boiled Salmon. Parsley Sauce. Fricassee of Chicken. Braized Ox Tail. Roast Sirloin of Beef. Roast Turkey. Salad. Potatoes. French Beans. Cabinet Pudding. Blanc Mange. Jellies. Anges a Cheral. Cheese. Coffee. _3rd page of Menu._] [Illustration: Alles zal recht komen. _4th page of Menu._] * * * * * This was the day upon which Mr. Landon, Mr. Gwynne, Mr. James Barnes, and myself were to entertain at dinner Sir Alfred Milner, Lord Roberts, and Rudyard Kipling. The _menus_ had been printed under the eye of Mr. Landon, and were very distinguished examples of plain typography. As twenty-four were to be used, we gave twelve each to Mr. W. B. Wollen, R.I., and to Mr. Lester Ralph, war artists with the army, requesting these able friends to do their best to produce on each guest's _menu_ a picture illustrative of some exploit or leading characteristic of the recipient. A very notable series of drawings resulted--so notable that the Field-Marshal, whose own card showed him in the act of receiving the Keys of Bloemfontein, asked to see them all. When, toward the end of the repast, each man wrote his name on every _menu_, you may be certain those bits of pasteboard bearing the simple words, "The Dinner of the 28th of March, Bloemfontein, 1900," leaped high in value, and in the jealous pride of every man who had one.