is very scarce, much scarcer than at Johannesburg, and when the wind blows, all doors must be closed, owing to the dust from the mine dumps. It is much hotter here in summer than in Johannesburg, and general conditions of living worse. I shouldn't mind living in Johannesburg, but I don't believe I could be content in Kimberley.
Thursday, March 20.—Today we traveled from
Kimberley to Bloemfontein, and the same polite conductor
was in charge of the train. He not only gave
us a compartment to ourselves, but presented me with
a Zulu war-club which I am bringing home as a souvenir.
When the Zulus go to Kimberley to work in the
mines they are not allowed to take their war-clubs into
the compounds, and sell them at low prices. The one
I have is a fancy affair, and probably the late owner
worked on it for two weeks. It looks as though it has
been in action, and has probably cracked a good many
heads. . . . We were compelled to wait nearly
three hours at Bloemfontein for a train to Johannesburg,
and dined at Polly's Hotel Cecil. Mr. Polly is a
model hotel man, and knows his business so well that
his place is constantly crowded, while the opposition
hotel, just across the street, and a newer and larger
place, is almost deserted. It is surprising what a clever
man can do to a dull one; if Mr. Polly wants the larger
and newer hotel, my prediction is that he will have it
in six months. . . . We walked about Bloemfontein
for an hour in the moonlight. I like this town, because
it is dull, and the people are consequently polite.
