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Frank Kelley
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Where Kaffirs cook! good gracious me, they don't write "em" like that anymore!
djb wrote: 1899 - From the diary of Miss Bella Craw in Ladysmith
At daylight this morning we were wakened by the sound of firing of all kinds and descriptions. It began at about 3.30. We got up at sunrise and for a time they seemed to be coming (the shells) from all sides.
We did not go to our hole at all today. There was a small engagement in Potgieter's direction, so far I have not heard the casualties. This afternoon, Aunt Fanny, Mama, Wilfrid and I all went for a walk and a very pleasant one too. We went past the Gordon Camp and saw a little of a game of Polo, but while we were watching, a shell came whizzing along and fell a short distance from the ground. They never looked aside but we walked on thinking it dangerous ground. At the bridge we were asked by the Sentry there for our passes, which none of us had but Wilfrid. This is the first time I have been asked for mine. However, he let us pass.
We stood for a time and watched some of the Gordons cleaning their helmets and best of all listened to the bag pipes. Five men were playing in the bed of the river on the sands, out of sight of "Long Tom", "Whispering Willie", "Silent Susan", and "Slim Piet" and ever so many more. It was such a treat to hear the pipes again. It was cheery to say the least of it.
From there, we went through the Light Horse Camp, went through their burrow. They are the very best I have seen. We crossed the river, passed the Prison and saw some of the Boer prisoners on the balcony.
From there we went to see the news posted up at the Post Office, found none, but saw Captain Adams there and he showed us a copy of "The Lyre" edited by Mr. Stephens. I must have one. During our walk shells were falling in the direction of the Town Hall. On our way home we were told that one had gone through the Town Hall again, killing one of the wounded and re-wounding eight others. Uncle George came in after dinner and brought a copy of "The Ladysmith Lyre".
It is very funny, most amusing. It calls the new 6-inch Boer gun "Nasty Knocks."
Extracts from Ladysmith Lyre.
Leading Article - The Situation.
The situation is unchanged. Under the heading of Advertisements is: Please note change of Address L. Tom, House, Life and Commission Agent, Horse breaker, slaughterman etc. begs to inform his numerous patrons in the Navy and Army that he has transferred his old-established business from Pepworth's Hill to Lombard's Kop. By punctuality and strict attention to business he hopes to merit a continuance of former favours. No credit:
Smash on delivery.
The poet under the River Bank
Wake for above Umbulwana the coming day
Lights up the signal for the guns to play;
How sweet to know 'tis but a living tomb
Awaits you, and there's time to creep away.
E'er the last shadow of the darkness died
Me thought a voice within the cavern cried:
"Look here, there ain't no room for more than ten,
And if you're late, you'll have to stop outside."
Oh dreams of pluck and fears of cowardice!
One thing at least is certain, cordite flies,
One thing is certain in this town of lies,
If Long Tom gets you on the head, you dies.
Some of escapes and some of ventures tell,
To some life's dull without bombardment - well,
The far off shrapnel makes a pretty cloud,
And Sweet's the whisper of the distant shell.
Some talk of future glory and of rank,
To some a coat without a medal's blank,
Oh, take the cash and let the credit go!
Be like the soldiers when they took the bank.
A pipe of Boer tobacco 'neath the blue,
A tin of meat, a bottle, and a few
Choice magazines, like Harmsworth's or the Strand
I sometimes think war has its blassings too.
Outstretched where yellow waters mumur still
Where Kaffirs cook, and high the cauldrons fill,
Whilst neither wine nor whiskey is forgot -
And peace to Joubert on his Pepworth Hill!
And sweet it is when, without trace of fear,
You tread the darkening town, for night is here,
Or, wondering why sometimes they fire at twelve,
Sink into bed - but know the culvert near.
So when the peace shall find me safe and well,
'Twill be a further joy each night to tell
How many a bullet nearly touched the spot -
And in my window place an empty shell.
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