Free Swords and Crowns and Rings by Ruth Park Page B

not,’ said Jerry. ‘Come on now, you sit down here and forget it. You’ve taken too much aboard, not being used to it.’
    She appealed to Jackie and Cushie, standing interestedly by.
    â€˜That’s the decent thing, isn’t it, kids? Make it up, comfort poor old Piper, the Christian thing to do. Holding grudges all this time, it’s wicked.’ She broke down and sobbed copiously.
    â€˜All right, all right, I’ll take you,’ said her husband.
    Slowly and uncertainly they moved towards Edward Street. The main street was so carpeted with confetti that in places it was as soft underfoot as a lawn. Outside the post office the Salvation Army band continued to play between two carbide lamps.
    â€˜Wait, got to give them something,’ mumbled Mrs MacNunn. She pressed a shilling into the elderly captain’s hand. ‘Goo’ man,’ she sobbed. ‘Peace now. All brothers, goo’ will to men. Play “Faith of Our Fathers” for me now.’
    Cushie noticed that the light in Olwyn’s room was still lit. She hesitated, thinking she should go home.
    â€˜No,’ said Jackie authoritatively. Cushie started. The two began to giggle.
    â€˜Got to pee,’ announced Jackie’s mother majestically. Jackie and Cushie’s giggles rose to an uncontrollable pitch.
    â€˜Ought to be ashamed!’ said the Nun in mortification, and angrily he bundled his wife away. Jackie and Cushie waited in silence until the Nun reappeared, sheepish, but dignified.
    â€˜She’s passed out,’ he reported. ‘Better put her into bed, best place for her.’ He scratched his head. ‘Don’t know that she didn’t have a good idea about the old Piper, though. Think I’ll go along with you and ask him to come and give us a blast of the pipes, just to mark the occasion.’ He said shyly, ‘She’s not really shickered, you know, she just isn’t used to the drop she had.’
    He propped an arm against the lintel, feeling his bad leg give, his head swim disagreeably.
    â€˜You two walk along towards Mr Nicolson’s place,’ he said. ‘I’ll catch you up in two ticks, soon as I’ve put her ladyship into her bunk.’
    â€˜Is it all right?’ whispered Cushie anxiously.
    â€˜Of course it is,’ said Jackie firmly. ‘I’ll look after you till Dad catches up.’
    They turned towards the older part of town. A gas lamp lit the deserted street, a faint bluish nimbus. Conic shadows lay beneath each tuft of grass, each pebble.
    â€˜Do you remember when we went to find the dwarfs?’
    â€˜We were only little then.’
    â€˜The eagle in the rabbit trap. I was scared. Poor thing. I hope it got away from the Chinaman.’
    The huge sky was dark. In the west over Paddy’s Range the lightning stammered, deep within a cloud. A low bear-like growl rolled around the sky.
    â€˜Are there really dwarfs in our hills?’
    â€˜I don’t think so,’ said Jackie. ‘But they’re somewhere. Otherwise what are all the books about?’
    Darkness was all about them, and a smell of ruin and antiquity. Here, on the fringe of the town, the settlement of Kingsland had been born as the mining camp of Paddy’s Leak. Here the first cottages had been built, and the stone bank, police station, and chapel raised at the end of the corduroy road that led to the diggings. But within thirty years Kingsland had moved away: like all towns it had been drawn magnetically to the railway line. The old settlement, disowned and poverty-stricken, floundered at the hem of the modern town like a beggar.
    â€˜I’m scared,’ whispered Cushie.
    â€˜No, you’re not,’ said Jackie. ‘Come on.’
    But she hung back. ‘We’d better wait for your Dad.’
    They waited near the fallen silvery fence of a derelict shack. It was built of overlapped narrow scantling patched with bits of tea