I now warn the inhabitants of the Northern Districts, and more particularly those who were misguided enough to join or assist the enemy, that, in the event of their committing any further act of hostility against Her Majesty, they will be treated, as regards both their persons and property, with the utmost rigour, and the extreme penalties of Martial Law will be enforced against them. ROBERTS, Field Marshal, Commander-in-Chief, South Africa. Army Headquarters, Bloemfontein, _April 9, 1900_. * * * * * OUR PORTRAIT GALLERY. It is with great pleasure that we present to our readers to-day a portrait of Lord Stanley, the present popular Press Censor with Lord Roberts' Field Force in South Africa. The portrait is by W. B. Wollen, R.I., and is a masterpiece. We like it, but we are surprised that the censor should wear precisely such an antediluvian collar as we saw on Mr. Burdett-Coutts in yesterday's view of our Portrait Gallery. [Illustration: Lord Stanley.] * * * * * THE ABSENT-BODIED BURGHER. BY A. B. PATTERSON. _A Screaming Farce now being played daily with great success in the Theatre of War near Bloemfontein._ CHARACTERS: 1. JACOBUS JOHANNES VAN DER MAUSER (The absent-bodied Burgher). 2. KATINKA VAN DER MAUSER (His Wife). 3. REGINALD TALBOT DE VERE-CROESUS (English Cavalry Officer). _Scene_: A Farm in the Free State. Pony saddled at the door. J. J. van der Mauser preparing to mount. J. J. VAN DER MAUSER (_Centre of Stage_). Katinka! Katinka! Bring me the old rifle that is in the barn among the sheep-skins. The old muzzle-loading Boer rifle, with which my ancestor, the great Ten-britches van der Mauser shot the lion in the days of the Great Trek. KATINKA: Nay, Jan! Pause and reflect! 'Twill blow thy head off. It has not been fired these thirty years. JAN: Nay, woman! I purpose not to fire it. I intend to hand it in to the British--I only wish they'd try to let it off! Then will I return speedily, provided with a pass, and go up into the laager to do a little Rooinek shooting. While I am gone, Katinka, be not afraid. The English will put a sentry on the farm so that not a blade of grass shall be touched, not an onion taken from the ground. Be diligent, and sell them all the butter you can. KATINKA: The proclamation says the price of butter is to be two-and-sixpence a pound! JAN: Then don't take a penny less than three shillings and sixpence. If you run short of milk, drive in the cows of our neighbour Smith, who has fled to the English. And Katinka (_whispers tenderly_), if you see the Rooineks out in the open, don't stand anywhere near them, darling! You might get hit! You understand? Now, farewell! (_Proceeds to pull on an extra pair of breeches, and so goes off to the laager, while the band plays "My dear old Dutch."_)