ceeded
in giving an impression of leisurely understatement. A report of a
holdup began, "A curious and decidedly unpleasant incident befell
Commissioner Truter last week." On the last day of 1870 an outraged
citizen wrote that something had to be done about the mails; he said he
had sent six rubies in a letter from Pniel to a friend in Port
Elizabeth, and when the envelope arrived, three of the jewels were
gone. "I trouble you with this matter, Mr. Editor," he concluded,
"believing that you will make allusion to it in your paper and will
agree with me in thinking the affair sufficiently serious to demand
enquiry."
From the start, there were items in the News indicating
that the diggers' social life was flourishing—"Another billiard table
is on its way from the colony to Pniel," and "The Music Hall at Klip
Drift is being pushed forward"—and before long there were ladies about,
enough ladies to make a ball successful. "On Wednesday evening Upper
Hebron came out strong in the dancing line," wrote a News correspondent. "The élite of
the Fields went in for a subscription ball in the billiard room of the
Royal Oak Hotel, where the table was taken down for the purpose. Kid
gloves and satin slippers were at a premium, and as for white satin
vests and pumps, they were not to be had. A goodly company of bright
eyes were present." Six months after the paper was started there was a
sufficiently goodly company of bright eyes in Pniel for the News editorial
writer to begin worrying about the effect on them of scantily clad
native helpers. "May we suggest to the local authorities the
desirableness of making and enforcing some regulations with reference
to the attire of native servants?" the editorial for April 29, 1871,
began, and it went on, "No one with any observation can have
