36	DIAMOND
	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