Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 50 — page 98: what you’re looking at

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

ONE HOUR Sometimes one of the children came round to see him. ‘Tell me about the flowers, Papa Jones.” “What do you want to know? They come in the summer and nod their heads to the bees, so that they will know the honey is ready to be collected.” ““How do the flowers know the honey is ready? It’s away deep in their petals and they can’t see it.” “They make the honey so that the bees can come for it. They know.”’ It was the way that he said his last two words which had caused the children to treat him differently. When Papa Jones said ““They know,”’ just like that, it explained every- thing. : He dragged the large silver watch from his waistcoat pocket and looked at it. The face seemed to go far away, as though it had fallen into a stream and blurred the out- line. A mist of perspiration clouded the skin on his brow like the kettle steam on a 97 cold glass. The watch came to the surface of the stream just long enough for him to see the time. He put it away and turned to the book. “Once upon a time—— he started. His voice found power as the story unfolded, and as he spoke his mind wandered to other things. The director had told him in that hurried and -snatched conversation: “Your last chance, Papa Jones. If you don’t take it you know no one can do anything for you.” He wondered if he had done the right thing. And yet there was really no other course. There had been the warning, which had been the shock: barely gave you time to think even though you knew that it was inevitable. He had ex- pected it would be something like this but not quite. The story found its way through the magic castle; the prince came and rescued the princess. It was a pity that Maria had thought he was dead and not waited for him 39 comiclooks.com