Authentic Science Fiction Monthly, No. 51 — page 110: what you’re looking at

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

When a little boy gets lost in a wood, there is no telling what he might bring home THE BLACKDOWN MIRACLE by Peter J. Hazell ICHAEL wriggled under M. the middle bar of the stile, paused to drag his near-useless left leg after him, and stood defiantly on the mould covered pathway. It stretched away from him like a dark brown ribbon, to disappear into what seemed an infinity of green shadows. Wide-eyed and a little hesi- tant, he viewed the depths ahead, thinking how very different and frightening the wood looked when one was actually in it. The wood had been his fairyland throughout all the time that Michael could remember of his four- and-a-half years. Viewed from the bedroom window, it ap- peared a wondrous place, all shiny-green or red-gold. Yet now that he was really here, the true vastness of it struck 109 home, awesome and fore- boding. He gave a lingering glance backward at the cheer- ful sunlight beyond the stile. then set off along the path. Rounding its first bend, he entered a small glade and looked around hopefully for signs of a gnome or pixie. There were none. Yet daddy said they lived here. When asked, he would laugh and say, “Yes, son. Even in this year of grace, 1965, there are pixies in Blackdown Wood— you'll see!”’ That'seemed a long time ago now, when daddy used to laugh. He didn’t any more— not since he came home from that thing called “The Con- tinent.””> Michael hated the Continent—it had changed his life by changing daddy, making him look old. Some- comiclbooks.cormn