At any rate, he lost most of his property, so much of it indeed that he scarcely knew which way to turn.

Thus it happened that one evening when I went out of the house where I had been making up my accounts, I saw a yellow-faced white-haired old fellow squatted on the verandah smoking a pipe made out of a corn-cob.
"Good day, Baas," he said, "here am I, Hans." "So I see," I answered, rather coldly.

"And what are you doing here, Hans?
How can you spare time from your drinking and gambling at Pinetown to visit me here, Hans, after I have not seen you for three years ?" "Baas, the gambling is finished, because I have nothing more to stake, and the drinking is done too, because but one bottle of Cape Smoke makes me feel quite ill next morning.

So now I only take water and as little of that as I can, water and some tobacco to cover up its taste." "I am glad to hear it, Hans.

If my father, the Predikant who baptised you, were alive now, he would have much to say about your conduct as indeed I have no doubt he will presently when you have gone into a hole (i.e., a grave).