"No, by the devil, no! not though he had sixty-times-six red noses." There the German overseer mildly interposed that the man was not a tramp, but a highly respectable individual, whose horse had died by an accident three days before.
"Don't tell me," cried the Boer-woman; "the man isn't born that can take me in.

If he'd had money, wouldn't he have bought a horse?
Men who walk are thieves, liars, murderers, Rome's priests, seducers! I see the devil in his nose!" cried Tant Sannie shaking her fist at him; "and to come walking into the house of this Boer's child and shaking hands as though he came on horseback! Oh, no, no!" The stranger took off his hat, a tall, battered chimneypot, and disclosed a bald head, at the back of which was a little fringe of curled white hair, and he bowed to Tant Sannie.
"What does she remark, my friend ?" he inquired, turning his crosswise-looking eyes on the old German.
The German rubbed his old hands and hesitated.
"Ah--well--ah--the--Dutch--you know--do not like people who walk--in this country--ah!" "My dear friend," said the stranger, laying his hand on the German's arm, "I should have bought myself another horse, but crossing, five days ago, a full river, I lost my purse--a purse with five hundred pounds in it.

I spent five days on the bank of the river trying to find it--couldn't.

Paid a Kaffer nine pounds to go in and look for it at the risk of his life--couldn't find it." The German would have translated this information, but the Boer-woman gave no ear.
"No, no; he goes tonight.

See how he looks at me--a poor unprotected female! If he wrongs me, who is to do me right ?" cried Tant Sannie.
"I think," said the German in an undertone, "if you didn't look at her quite so much it might be advisable.