The Argosy, Vol. XXIV No. 2 — page 192: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

384 A FAIRY TALE, If Binks heard he did not heed. ‘You are wounded—into my saddle, quick !’’ he exclaimed in tones hardly recognizable, so full of stern command were they. But the major was a fine figure of a man, while Binks himself was not a particularly light weight. And Binks’ horse, by no means a strong one, was entirely unused to carrying double. He balked and reared ; in fact, refused duty entirely. There was but one resource—but one life could be saved. : | ‘‘ Good by, Trevitt. God bless you—and Alice. Tell her good by.”’ As one in a dream Major Trevitt heard, or thought he heard, these words uttered in his dulled ear. By his own account the major only remembered lurching heavily forward to the saddlebow, which he clutched with a litera] death grip. The horse relieved of part of his burden, galloped madly forward into the lines, hastened perhaps by the sting of a spent bullet that struck the frightened steed in the counter. Major Trevitt was in a half unconscious state from pain and loss of blood when helped from the saddle. And it was not until the Zulus had been driven back to the kraal that little Binks was discovered. In his right hand was a revolver with empty cylinder. Through his heart was an African assegai. And about him lay, grim and ghastly, the life- less bodies of five of Cetewayo’s bravest Zulu watriors, : : So little Binks lies asleep under African sands. At his head isa simple gray stone, for which Major Trevitt paid at his own special request. ~- But little Binks’ brother officers insisted ‘upon supplying the words. Following his name and the date of his death is this - ‘‘ Brave men do not boast or bluster. Deeds, not words, speak for such,’’ Charles A. McDougall. A FAIRY TALE. WE sat on the fence’s topmost rail As the sun sank in the west, And told each other some fairy tale Which, when young, we loved the best, And the long grass rustled at our feet : Mayhap in its tangle green Titania, and her courtly suite Listened unseen. The twilight gathered—the fields grew dark, The night let her curtains down, The stars came out—each tiny spark Like the jewel of a crown. The fair moon shone in the heavens above, And beneath its glory pale A maiden smiled, for she thought my love A fairy tale. cS A ~ Eomicboo