"Terry Pratchett. A Hat Full Of Sky " - читать интересную книгу автора

mixed with ear wax, and had to be held together with string.
There were goodbyes. She cried a bit, and her mother cried a lot, and
her little brother Wentworth cried as well just in case he could get a sweet
for doing so. Tiffanys father didnt cry but gave her a silver dollar and
rather gruffly told her to be sure to write home every week, which is a mans
way of crying. She said goodbye to the cheeses in the dairy and the sheep in
the paddock and even to Ratbag the cat.
Then everyone apart from the cheeses and the cat stood at the gate and
waved to her and Miss Tick -well, except for the sheep, too - until theyd
gone nearly all the way down the chalky-white lane to the village.
And then there was silence except for the sound of their boots on the
flinty surface and the endless song of the skylarks overhead. It was late
August, and very hot, and the new boots pinched.
I should take them off, if I was you, said Miss Tick after a while.
Tiffany sat down by the side of the lane and got her old boots out of
the case. She didnt bother to ask how Miss Tick knew about the tight new
boots. Witches paid attention. The old boots, even though she had to wear
several pairs of socks with them, were much more comfortable and really easy
to walk in. They had been walking since long before Tiffany was born, and
knew how to do it.
And are we going to see any . . . little men today? Miss Tick went on,
once they were walking again.
I dont know, Miss Tick, said Tiffany. I told them a month ago I was
leaving. Theyre very busy at this time of year. But theres always one or two
of them watching me.
Miss Tick looked around quickly. I cant see anything, she said. Or hear
anything.
No, thats how you can tell theyre there, said Tiffany. Its always a bit
quieter if theyre watching me. But they wont show themselves while youre
with me. Theyre a bit frightened of hags - thats their word for witches, she
added quickly. Its nothing personal.
Miss Tick sighed. When I was a little girl Id have loved to see the
pictsies, she said. I used to put out little saucers of milk. Of course,
later on I realized that wasnt quite the thing to do.
No, you should have used strong licker, said Tiffany.
She glanced at the hedge and thought she saw, just for the snap of a
second, a flash of red hair. And she smiled, a little nervously.

Tiffany had been, if only for a few days, the nearest a human being can
be to a queen of the fairies. Admittedly, shed been called a kelda rather
than a queen, and the Nac Mac Feegle should only be called fairies to their
face if you were looking for a fight. On the other hand the Nac Mac Feegle
were always looking for a fight, in a cheerful sort of way, and when they
had no one to fight they fought one another, and if one was all by himself
hed kick his own nose just to keep in practice.
Technically, they had lived in Fairyland, but had been thrown out,
probably for being drunk. And now, because if youd ever been their kelda
they never forgot you . . .
. . . they were always there.
There was always one somewhere on the farm, or circling on a buzzard