“Tell me, Rex, did you ever know what it was to be in a regular blue funk?”
“I can’t honestly say I ever was on my own account—probably it’s a treat in store for me—but I have felt fears for others that have made my heart stand still more than once. The sensation must be the same as abject personal fear—in other words, a blue funk.”
“Well, I don’t understand; explain yourself?”
“For instance, when I saw a gun and four horses suddenly back over the edge of a pass, and ultimately go over—in spite of the horses’ frantic exertions—a fall of two thousand feet, I trembled for the gunners.”
“So I should imagine.”
“Fortunately they flung themselves off in time.”
“Poor horses! what a horrible sight!” said Mary Ferrars. “I daresay you have seen a good many such.”
“Yes, I’m sorry to say I have. For instance, I have seen a horse’s head taken clean off with a shell.”
“Don’t, Reginald!” exclaimed Helen; “you are making me perfectly sick.”
“Well then, I won’t; I’ll spare you the rest of my experiences. You want to know, Geoff, what I mean by ‘fearing for others’? Now, for instance, if old Fordyce gets the regiment, I tremble for you. He has seen the superb caricature you drew of him, nearly all nose; and he strongly suspects that you are the ‘party’ that painted old Blowhard, his favourite white charger, a dazzling shepherd’s-plaid. I shudder when I think of your fate, my young friend.”