I was shocked to hear that one of my favorite and most inspiration poems might not have a foundation of truth behind it, so I shot one of the mad dogs that continually roamed about our sitting room.

Holmes as usual handled things more calmly asking, 'Do you mean to say, Colonel Motherspaw, that the *Charge* as detailed by Tennyson did not take place? And, if so, how would this imperil your life and the life of your daughter?˛

Motherspaw slapped an Andaman Islander away from his wallet, and continued with his tale. 'Mr. Holmes, I am sad to say that indeed, in reality, there was no great charge of swordsmen down the long and dangerous valley. Instead, a Private Cracker and his pet monkey went searching for some wildflowers there and were shot to pieces by the enemy. The General needed a despatch right away to send back to Britain, showing how manly and courageous our troops were, when instead they were hiding under their tents. Thus I elaborated on the death of the private just a teensy-weensy bit.'

Holmes paced about our sitting room, finally approaching his wicker chair; he was forced to toss out several Irregulars, two swamp adders, and an ear before he could sit down on a few pillows and twist his body into a pretzel.

Motherspaw continued, 'I wrote up the heroic despatch and the General was much pleased by it and sent it back home. Little did we suspect that telling the world that 600 horsemen had ridden in and only a few out would have such an impact on the press and the populace. Our lesson was learned and we never prevaricated in that fashion again. Life went on, I returned home and have had a happy family life. That is why it is so horrifying that lately I have noticed little stick figures drawn upon my torso every morning upon awakening.'

'Little stick figures?'Holmes enquired, his long, thin, nervous fingers engaged in "Itsy-bitsy spider'"

'Yes, each morning for the last two weeks I've woken to find story installments of myself, my daughter, and little army men in various postures drawn upon my body. Yesterday morning, one of the stenciled men stabbed me and my daughter with his bayonet, right above my navel!'

Holmes stood up and suddenly put his hand to his forehead as he fell to the floor. Sighing deeply, I kicked his side and said, 'Holmes, you canšt faint from inanition. You ate a hearty breakfast.' Frowning at his forgetfulness, Holmes stood back up. 'Then, Watson, let us proceed with the case.'