No wonder, worthy editorial sirs, you have not witnessed an exodus of men with cameras from Bloemfontein; they are staying to "come out on top." Sincerely yours,

H. C. Shelley.

CORRESPONDENCE.
"Who Stole the Cart?"

To the Editors of The Friend,—Sirs,—Practical jokes are out of date, and the perpetrators have universally come to be regarded as a mixture of fools and knaves. It is intolerable to attempt a practical joke upon a friend, but to play one upon a stranger is downright rascality. To accept an excuse for such a thing is to admit the pleas of the man who took a piece of old rope that he did not mean to take the horse that was at the other end; or that of other fellows who sneak property, pick pockets, or forge cheques, that these acts were all done in fun.

I have been much interested in reading in The Friend about horses, saddles, bridles, and even riems being stolen in this campaign, but I think I can add to the list with a more startling experience of my own. I bought a waggon from a well-known man in this town and had it sent to a coach repairer to be overhauled. It was a conspicuous vehicle, as much so as a Soudan pantechnicon van, with white wall sides, upon which were painted, in letters that could be read half a mile away, the owner's name, business, and address. This waggon was impudently taken in the night-time, dragged to stables some distance away, and there left. From the police I have learned that paint had actually been purchased, and it was evidently the intention of the thieves to transform my waggon, by painting out the name and address, and so daub it with khaki or some other colour that it should become unrecognisable. By a fortuitous accident the waggon was discovered in the nick of time.

The law here is such that an aggrieved party must become a prosecutor, which is an undertaking a transient visitor naturally shirks.

I think it my duty to call attention to the circumstances and the inadequacy of the existing means for the prevention of wrong-doing and the punishment of the wrong-doers.—I am, sirs, yours truly,

Melton Prior,
War Artist, Illustrated London News.