'We won't worry about that now,' said Miss Renshaw,Īvoiding Bethany's alarming stare. She had small legs and small hands andĪ very small head. 'What did he do, Miss Renshaw?' asked Bethany, the Miss Renshaw beckoned at the little girls to leave their People are being cut down on the street and carried away and hanged, Trust Icara to notice something peculiar like palm trees when With her father on a train that took all night, shook her head. Stood a gallows, and a man named Ronald Ryan had been There was a prison with a high wall, and behind it in a courtyard

With murderers and criminals and state assassins. But now they knew that it was cruel and shadowy, filled Them it was Florence or Venice, a southern city of gold andįlowers. Melbourne was like a far-off Italian city to In Melbourne! They did not really even know where Hanged! Miss Renshaw had a folded newspaper in her Today,' said Miss Renshaw in a low, intent voice. 'I have to tell you that something barbaric has happened Striped ties neat around their necks, their hair combed. The little girls sat in rows as the bell for morning classes 'Today, girls,' said Miss Renshaw, 'we shall go out into the Muffled by the sound of falling water in the fountains and the Statues like wild cats, their tiny footsteps and secret breathing But every year people die and their ghosts roam in the public gardens, hiding behind the gray, dark The year began with the hanging of one man and ended with the drowning of another.

The Golden Day by Ursula Dubosarsky