Mr Gum and the Power Crystals Read Online Free Page A

stones from her skirt pocket. She could not believe she had once thought them beautiful like a goose on a hill. They had brought nothing but trouble and now she could barely bear to bear them in her bare hands.
    â€˜Billy William called ’em power crystals,’ whispered Polly as she placed them in Old Granny’s withered palm.
    â€˜Aye,’ nodded the old woman sadly, studying the wretched things in the firelight. ‘And he was right.’
    â€˜What are they, Old Granny? What do they do?’
    â€˜I will tell you, young ’un,’ replied the knowledgeable old drunkard. ‘But it is a terriblebusiness, it is a terrible business. Aye,’ she added. ‘It is a terrible business. A terri–’
    â€˜Excuse me, old ’un,’ interrupted Polly politely. ‘Are you a-gonna tell me ’bout it or are you jus’ gonna keep on sayin’ “it is a terrible business” over an’ over?’
    â€˜Just a couple more,’ said Old Granny. ‘If that’s all right with you.’
    â€˜Fair enough,’ said Polly.
    â€˜It is a terrible business,’ said Old Granny.‘Aye, a terrible business.’
    And rocking back in her chair she began to tell her tale.

Chapter 15
Old Granny Tells Her Tale
    â€˜I t was 1529,’ Old Granny began, ‘and it was totally rubbish. There was no TV, no rap music, no nothing. The King was a skinny old hunchback with no teeth, the Queen was an ant, and there was nothing to eat in the entire kingdom except for one enormous applesurrounded by the royal guards. I tell you, the Olden Days were a total waste of time.
    â€˜â€œI’m sick of it,” said Nicholas de Twinklecakes one Wednesday morning, just after a delicious breakfast of nothing at all. “I haven’t eaten for about a year and I’m starting to get hungry. I’m going to build a windmill, and then we can make loaves of bread.”
    â€˜â€œHoorah,” said his wife and son. “Hoorah hoorah hoorah.”
    â€˜So Nicholas worked hard to build his windmill,’ continued Old Granny. ‘He already had 3p, which made him the richest man in Lamonic Bibber at that time. Plus he found 2p under a piece of dirt and another 1p inside a dead peasant. That gave him 6p – more than enough to build a mighty windmill in those days.
    â€˜So he set to building and very soon it was done. There the windmill stood, on the banks of the Lamonic River, its heavy wooden sailsturning just as fine as fine can be. And sure enough Nicholas and his family were soon feasting on loaves of bread every day.
    â€˜â€œHoorah,” said his wife and son. “Hoorah hoorah hoorah.”’

    â€˜But the hoorahs didn’t last long, young ’un. It was Midsummer’s Eve when a fierce storm camea-calling. And just at that moment Nicholas’ wife and son were standing under the windmill singing a song called “Hoorah. Hoorah hoorah hoorah.”
    â€˜They had just reached the chorus when – FIZZ-FIZZ-OUCH! – they were struck by lightning. When Nicholas returned later that night he found them both dead. And what’s more, the windmill was broken, for the storm had destroyed the machinery that made the sails go round.
    â€˜Then a dark look did come over Nicholas’ face,’ said Old Granny, taking a long sip of sherry. ‘A dark look, even darker than the thunderous skies above. And as Nicholas knelt there by the riverside with an earthworm licking his shoe, he shouted, “I hate everything now! I’ve gone all bad and I’m going to destroy Lamonic Bibber with a huge cannon! No, wait, I’ve just had a better idea! I’m going to destroy it with power crystals instead! And the power crystals will make thesails of the windmill turn once more, but this time the windmill will not make loaves of bread. No, it will make PURE EVIL!”
    â€˜And then Nicholas de Twinklecakes uttered his