her lips, and a fixed
expression of girlish innocence.

"Well, we knew we should be fighting in a day or so; and the evening
before the battle young Larcher was talking to me. 'How d'you feel?' I
said. He didn't answer quite so quickly as usual. 'D'you know,' he said,
'I'm so awfully afraid that I shall funk it.' 'You needn't mind that,' I
said, and I laughed. 'The first time we most of us do funk it. For five
minutes or so you just have to cling on to your eyelashes to prevent
yourself from running away, and then you feel all right, and you think
it's rather sport.' 'I've got a sort of presentiment that I shall be
killed,' he said. 'Don't be an ass,' I answered. 'We've all got a
presentiment that we shall be killed the first time we're under fire. If
all the people were killed who had presentiments, half the army would
have gone to kingdom come long ago.'"

"You should have told him to lay his trust in the hands of Him who has
power to turn the bullet and to break the sword," said Mrs. Jackson.

"He wasn't that sort," replied James, drily, "I laughed at him, thinking
it the better way.... Well, next day we did really fight. We were sent
to take an unoccupied hill. Our maxim was that a hill is always
unoccupied unless the enemy are actually firing from it. Of course, the
place was chock full of Boers; they waited till we had come within easy
range for a toy-pistol, and then fired murderously. We did all we could.
We tried to storm the place, but we hadn't a chance. Men tumbled down
like nine-pins. I've never seen anything like it. The order was given to
fire, and there was nothing to fire at but the naked rocks. We had to
retire--we couldn't do anything else; and presently I found that poor
Larcher had been wounded. Well, I thought he couldn't be left where he
was, so I went back for him. I asked him if he could move. 'No,' he
said, 'I think I'm hurt in the leg.' I knelt down and bandaged him up as
well as I could. He was simply bleeding like a pig; and meanwhile
brother Boer potted at us for all he was worth. 'How d'you feel?' I
asked. 'Bit dicky; but comfortable. I didn't funk it, did I?' 'No, of
course not, you juggins!' I said. 'Can you walk, d'you think?' 'I'll
try.' I lifted him up and put my arm round him, and we got along for a
bit; then he became awfully white and groaned, 'I do feel so bad,
Parsons,' and then he fainted. So I had to carry him; and we went a bit
farther, and then--and then I was hit in the a