Young Benedict Cornblack and his pal Joseph were creaking about in the loft of the ancient farmhouse during summer school holidays, helping Quentin, Benedict’s dad, to sort out and throw away unwanted items of junk, prior to moving day. “Steady Ben, let me move that heavy box!” Quentin reached over his son-and grabbing the large plywood packing case he positioned it back on the floor right under the bright extension lamp he’d secured to the overhead roof beams. Within minutes both lads were rummaging through the case’s contents with a will, hoping to find something exciting. “Hey, what do you make of this?” asked Joseph, as he pulled out a wooden box of about a foot square, with a top hinged lid. Inside was what appeared to be a very antiquated strange brass contraption mounted on a metal plinth. There was a vertical metal cylinder at the base, beautifully enamelled, with strange hieroglyphs inscribed on it; a hinged side flap, and inside this was a sort of wick coming out of a reservoir. Protruding at right angles from the centre of the cylinder was a brass box with vertical slots in the top and a series of adjustable lens at the end. Out of the top of the cylinder came a small chimney. Quentin peered at it and exclaimed this was the old magic lantern he used to love as a kid. He said there should be several boxes of slides at the bottom of the packing case. The boys were interested in this and begged Quentin to make it work for them. About an hour or so later in a spare room at the back of the house, the youngsters waited in joyous anticipation as Quentin made final adjustments to the apparatus and pulled the curtains across to cut out unwanted light. Staring at a wall from which hung a big white blanket, Quentin switched on the small powerful torch he’d rigged up to provide alternative backlighting to the naked flame and inserted the first of the sandwiched glass slides. Reading form a companion manuscript to the slideshow he explained they would be viewing a tour of the American Wild West as undertook in the mid 1860’s by a certain Captain Xavior Cornblack the 2nd. Named after a Witch-finder working for Oliver Cromwell.

“One of our famous ancester’s,” explained Quentin to a puzzled Joseph.