POP GOES THE WEEVIL. 203 



whence they were withdrawn with a loud sonorous 

 smack. 



Tobacco I had in abundance, so after each had eaten 

 to his heart's content, my pouch was produced, and 

 conversation became general. 



There is no delicacy in Boer men or women. No 

 subject seems too gross to be tabooed their conversation, 

 even when the different sexes are together, or strangers 

 present ; yet they are unquestionably a most virtuous 

 people a proof that the greatest scold in Billingsgate 

 may be a very dragon of propriety. 



When our convivial meeting broke up, they turned 

 in under the wagon, with apparently as much satisfac- 

 tion as if they were about to occupy the most luxurious 

 chamber. 



Before sunrise Umganey had prepared a capital 

 breakfast roast venison, the stew of last night, with 

 some curry-powder introduced into it, and as much 

 coffee, rusk, and biscuit as we could consume. 



Touching those biscuits, they were excellent for a 

 long time, but suddenly there has appeared a most 

 extraordinary creature in them that I never previously 

 beheld. It is not a weevil, but its duties in life seem to 

 be somewhat similar to those of that insect. The 

 biscuits I allude to are square, their surface dotted over 

 with little holes, and are called captain's biscuits. In 

 every one of these holes appears to be lodged a dark 

 brown monster ; under a strong microscope the vermin 

 looks like an alligator, has four legs and a tail. These 

 biscuits I don't eat with the same pleasure as formerly, 

 and I'd advise you never to use a microscope to inspect 

 your food. However scientific you are, such a course is 

 a mistake, assure you. 



