168 A GARDEN DIARY 
of course that it should do so, rarely even taking 
the trouble to say ‘‘ Thank you.” 
By way of commentary upon the above reflec- 
tion I have just taken up a newspaper from the 
table, and this is what has met my eye. It is an 
extract apparently out of a letter home. 
“We found some water at last near Stinkfon- 
tein””—suggestive name—‘“but the place was 
very shallow, and the mud black and deep. We 
could not get the horses to look at it, but the 
men drank it greedily, and drank it too at the 
only place where they could reach it, which was 
where the hoofs had churned it into a blackish 
liquor, thick as soup.” 
Poor Tommy! Yet there are people who 
declare that you are not fond of water! Evi- 
dently this is another of those libels of which 
you have been too long the subject. 
