I have called the censor's office a "hole in a wall," but our _sanctum_ was not half as neat or presentable. Whoever has carried the collecting mania into the study of country newspaper offices has noticed how one never differs from another. The greasy smell of printer's ink, the distempered walls stuck over here and there with placards and the imprint of inky fingers, the gaping fireplace, the bare, littered floor, the table all cut on top and chipped at the edges, the bottomless chairs with varying degrees of further dismemberment, the "clank--clank" of the press in the next room--these are the proofs positive of genuine country newspaper offices the world around--from Simla to Bismarck, Dakota, and back again. And the office of THE FRIEND was like all the rest. * * * * * THE FRIEND. (_Edited by the War Correspondents with Lord Roberts' Force._) BLOEMFONTEIN, MONDAY, MARCH 26, 1900. FABLES FOR THE STAFF.[5] [Footnote 5: Copyrighted in England and America. Used here with the author's permission.] THE ELEPHANT AND THE LARK'S NEST. BY RUDYARD KIPLING. II. A discriminating Boer, having laid a Nestfull of valuable and informing Eggs, fled across the Horizon under pressure of necessity, leaving his Nest in a secluded Spot, where it was discovered by a Disinterested Observer who reported the same to an Intelligence Officer. The Latter arriving at his Leisure with a great Pomposity said: "See me hatch!" and sitting down without reserve converted the entire Output into an unnecessary Omelette. After the Mess was removed, the Disinterested Observer observed: "Had you approached this matter in another spirit you might have obtained Valuable Information." "That," replied the Intelligence Officer, "shows your narrow-minded Prejudice. Besides I am morally certain that those Eggs come out of a Mare's Nest." "It is now too late to inquire," said the Disinterested Observer, "and that is a pity." "But am I not an Intelligence Officer?" said the Intelligence Officer. "Of that there can be no two opinions," said the Disinterested Observer. Whereupon he was sent down. MORAL. _Do not teach the Intelligence to suck Eggs._ * * * * * KOPJE-BOOK MAXIMS.[6] [Footnote 6: Copyrighted in England and America, and used here by permission.] BY RUDYARD KIPLING. (_With suggestive help from Perceval Landon._) HORSE. Two Horses will shift a Camp if they be dead enough. Forage is Victory; Lyddite is Gas. Look before you Lope. When in doubt Flank; when in force Outflank. FOOT. Take care of the towns and the Tents will take care of themselves. Spare the Solitary Horseman on the sky-line; he is bound to be a Britisher. Abandoned Women and Abandoned Kopjes are best left alone. Raise your hat to the Boer--and you'll get shot. GUNS. The Dead Gunner laughed at the Pom-pom. "I Bet I killed 'Eighty,'" roared the 4.7. "I have buried my three," snapped the Lee-Metford.