When Mr. B. I. Barnato was a member of the Cape Parliament, he took part in a discussion on the Cape Liquor Law, which prohibits the sale of liquor on Sunday, unless the customer at the same time has a bona fide meal. In the course of his remarks he said:—“A few Sundays ago I walked some distance from Cape Town, for, being busily engaged in mentally reviewing the course of business of this Honourable House, I went on much further than I had intended without noticing the time. I at length retraced my steps, and being then both hot and thirsty, went into a decent and most respectable hotel for refreshment. I only wanted to quench my thirst, but, according to law, a drink could only be supplied as the accompaniment to a bona fide substantial meal. Mine host set before me a bottle of beer and a leg of roast pork. He had no other eatables. What was I to do? If I ate the pork, I broke the law of Moses, if I drank the beer without eating, I broke the law of the land. Between the Chief Rabbi and the Chief Justice I stood in a very awkward position.”
Sir Starr Jameson’s power of inspiring affection amongst those with whom he has been brought into contact is exemplified in the following anecdote. His biographer (Mr. G. Seymour Fort), three days after the Raid, was buying fruit from a stall in Pretoria, and selected a particular bunch of grapes. “No, sir,” the woman replied, “you can’t have that; I am keeping the best I have for Dr. Jim,” and she went on to explain that he had cured her daughter in Kimberley, and that no sacrifice was too great for his sake.
Mr. Edmund Garrett tells a similar story of a groom who asked him for news of Dr. Jameson. Mr. Garrett said to him: “You seem to be greatly interested in Dr. Jameson.” “Interested!” said the groom. “Whatsoever ‘quod’ he gets, I’d gladly do half of it for him—that I would.” “This groom,” says Mr. Garrett, “had once broken his leg in a race at Kimberley, and the doctor had attended him in hospital. That was all.”
Times have changed, but there was a time when the average Boer was unable to realise the magnitude of large figures. The representative of a Johannesburg syndicate was negotiating for the purchase of a farm in the Ventersdorp district. The owner asked for a preposterous sum. The financier then suggested that the amount of the purchase price should be as much gold as would cover a certain table in the room. To this proposal the farmer gladly agreed, and the financier covered the table with £12,000 in gold. This the farmer accepted, although the amount was about a quarter of the amount originally asked for.
When the Dutch East India Company ruled at the Cape only the Dutch Reformed religion was allowed. Nevertheless, a wealthy Prussian farmer, Martin Melk—a friend of the Governor, Ryk Tulbagh—built a Lutheran church and parsonage. Whilst the buildings were in course of erection Melk was visited by Governor Tulbagh. “Mr. Melk,” said the Governor, “when I pass by that church which is building I shall shut the eye nearest it.” “Sir,” was the reply, “God Himself will close the eyes of the man who may not look at His building.”