A little incident happened just at the right moment to save many lives, and good little Mike Hanafin was the hero. The Boers having charged into the midst of the Australians, of course all were pretty well mixed. Mike Hanafin, it so happened, ran upon the Australian bugler, and an idea struck him at once which when brought into play made him a little hero. He threw his rifle into the bugler's face, and told him to sound "Cease Firing," or he would blow his head off. The bugler promptly obeyed, and, of course, all the Australians ceased firing at once. The major in command ran up to the bugler, swore at him, and ordered him to sound, at once, the "Commence Firing," not knowing that Mike Hanafin had relieved the bugler of his bugle as soon as the "Cease Firing" had been sounded. While the major was swearing at the bugler, Joe Wade or Mike Halley, I have forgotten which, rammed the muzzle of his rifle against the major's stomach, and told him that he could have all the fight he wished. The major, in an awful tremble, threw up his hands and said "No, no, no, I don't want to fight any more." General Ben Viljoen on joining General Muller and the Johannesburg Commando, decided to recross the railway line near Balmoral, and operate north of Middleburg. He approached the line in the evening, and decided to capture some blockhouses in order that he might be able to take over his cannon and wagons. He took the two blockhouses, and about half his commando crossed, but the wagons and cannon were stopped by re-enforcements arriving from Balmoral. It was within ten feet of one of these blockhouses that the brave and reckless little Mike Hanafin lost his life. From a hole in the ground under the blockhouse a Tommie fired and killed Mike, who fell within four feet of the muzzle of the Tommie's rifle. Plucky Dick Hunt, on seeing Mike on the ground, went to his assistance, believing that he had been wounded. On reaching Mike he spoke to him but received no answer, so he knew that little Mike was dead. Hunt stooped down to pick him up, and as he did so, the Tommie fired up from the hole and the flash caught Dick in the face. The bullet grazed his forehead and pierced his hat. Joe Wade and Joe Kennedy, who were near by, came to Dick's relief, and the three carried Mike's body a few yards away, and then returned to the blockhouse. They now knew about these holes, and they crept up to one of them, slipped the muzzle of their rifles just over the edge of the hole, without the Tommie knowing it; they fired and the Tommie fell dead. This frightened the other Tommies who were watching at other holes, and the blockhouse was surrendered. The brave little Mike was dead, however, and those Irish boys to-day mourn his death. Mike, after the war had begun, walked from Beira, over 500 miles distance, to Delagoa Bay, and then worked his way into the Transvaal, and joined the Irish Brigade. He was very modest and quiet, but a reckless little enthusiast when it