A TRANSVAAL TRADING STORE.

Waikato Argus, Volume VII, Issue 526, 14 December 1899, Page 2 (Supplement)

A TRANSVAAL TRADING STORE.

In a small curve off the main road stands a lone, low, galvanised iron building, with a broad stoep and an overbaneing verandah. Behind it is a narrow stretch of cultivated land, hemmed in by a sod wall, and back of all a small cluster of yotiDg eucalyptus trees. The blazing sun beats down on the iron roof with a fierceness to which the galvanised sheets lend still greater intensity, and the blankets, clothing, and other goods in the store still further aid ; and the atmosphere in the shon can best be described by the remark made in the writer's hearing by an intelligent but irreligious traveller, that l< a man who could live in a Transvaal store would freeze to death in hell." But the trader does not mind this ; or if he does he doesn't say so. Pressed in a pair of trowsers, a light pair of shoes, and a flannel shirt he reclines on a convenient part of the counter, and with the aid of his pipe passes the time until a customer arrives. Should the customer be a white man, the storekeeper and he will as a rule retire into the little side room for a few minutes, and a bottle and a couple of glasses will be produced. Should he on the other hand, be a nigger the trader will'glance at him casually, and, without moving, will ask him what he wants. He does this because Kaffirs often want something which they know the storekeeper has not got. The Kaffir is gregarious, and likes to have a chat, especially with a white man. When such is the case the trader can tell the nigger to be off, without disturbing himself in any way. This, of course, saves trouble. The shelves in the back of the shop are piled up with gaudy blankets, clothing of all descriptions, tinned poods, clocks and vases, cheap " jewelry," and various other commodities. Below these •helves are the bins where the sugar, flour, meal, coffee, &c, are kept. On one side are the small shelves where the patent medicines stand. This is the most important branch in the Transvaal up-cotintry trade, and the trader as a rule acts as medical adviser to the whole neigbourhood. The average Boers takes more medicine than the worst hypochondriac in any other part of the world. This is owing to indigestion. The Bosr is patient and long-suffering in some respects, but when it comes to a case of sickness he is in a hurry. He wants to get right at once, and so he will go to the store, and acting on the advice of the trader, will purchase a remedy. When he finds in a couple of days that the medicine has not cured him he immediately jumps to the conclusion that it is no good. He will then go, and relying on his own judgment, will purchase some other medicine and start on that. At the same time, if he gets the chance, he will jump a sample of something else to have a go at when he has got tired of the other. How nn earth he keeps alive is a mystery. It must be the climate that saves him. I can't account for it in any other -tfay. Outside the store, on the stoep, are the agricultural implements, ploughs, harrows, new American inventions of all sizes and descriptions that are too big or too heavy to be easily carried away, and at all hours of the day, from early morning until sunset, you will find a nigger attired in a soldier's old red coat sealed on one of these articles. Where the darkey comes from is a puzzlo. During a long acquaintance with the Transvaal I have never arrived at a store without oncountering one of theßO objects on the stoop. In fact, I used to look for him, and on one occasion won a substantial stake by betting a companion be would fiud a kalhr in a soldier's coat at the first three stores we arrived at. He, of course lost the het, and being a newcomer, seemed at first to think that I had somo hand iu having these people thero, but he has long since grown wiser, and knows by this that the 'Soldier Kallir' is as much an adjunct of the Transvaal trading store as a ghost is of a respeotable English castle, the only difference being that the former is much more in evidence. As the sun goes down and the evening closes in the storekeeper will come outside and will watch the change; after which he will retire into his small badroom, and his ' boy ' will bring him in his supper. He will oat this, and then light his pipe and turn into bed; another half hour will see the light die out iu his window, and tho house given over to sleep. At the break of dawn ho will be awakened by the boy bringing |in his coffee, and ho will then get up, unlock the doors, and prepare foi another day. It is not a cheerful life, but to men who lead it it has a strange fascination ' once a Boer trader always a Boer trader is a stock saying in the Transvaal.— Lloyd's Weekly,