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A Saturday night on Charters Towers, some
    forty years ago,
To move along in that happy throng, with those
    I used to know,
Down Mosman Street with shuffling feet, past.
    shops all open wide,
Like waves half-stilled in a sluggish sea, on
    went the moving tide.

We walked the paths, we walked the road, we
    walked where we liked at will,
For the cab and bus were stopped those nights,
    from Mosman and from Gill,
From the Royal down to the Sportsman's Arms
    from Daking's up the way,
To Gill Street's hill at the old Cremorne where
    the buses had to stay.

The barmaids worked at fevered pace, the
    squash shops just as well,
The shooting gallery blazed away, to ring the
    little bell,
Draper shops were bright and gay, jeweller
    shops ashine,
But the butchers, and the grocers, closed their
    doors at nine.

Folk brushed by with parcels high, and bulging
    bags of meat,
To tethered buckboards down the way in a
    quiet little street
Or pushed their way to the A.N.A. to dance
    till roosters crowed;
It mattered not if they lived close by, or out
    on New Queen Road.

Flower-boys sold their button-holes in front
    of the old Exchange,
To beaus ,who came from Ruby Ridge, or in
    from the Rifle Range,
So we chatted and laughed and moved along,
    or stood at the Army ring
Deciding then on the Theatre Royal, to see the
    "Silver King."

When the show was over and the people all
    streamed out,
The street awakened once
    chorussed driver's shout,
It was "Millchester" and "Wellington," and
    "Bluff Road" there as well;
And others too from different parts, as Mosman Park could tell.

Then "Cambridge Street" and "Waterworks,"
    would rise above the din,
And "a few more here for Black Jack Road"
    as they piled the people in;
Thus Saturday night was over, and the laughter
    and the song
Were memories
    horses jogged

But it was Christmas Eve I remember well,
    and it fell on a Saturday night,
The buildings all, both large and small, blazed
    with their fiercest light,
There was a human dam to the Methodist
    Church and on balconies over the way,
When the "Curlews" sang "Abide with Me"
    I heard the great crowd pray.
For Faith was strong in that sea of souls,
    though in many a different key,
All asked of Him on that goodwill night,
    `'Please God Abide With Me."
And "Guard oh God over boys below" went
    many a heartfelt prayer,
As the "Curlews" lovely voices died, softly on
    the air.

A grand old town with the grandest folk,
    though they paid for their hard won gold,
For Laughter and Fear were neighbours near,
    as the gravestones there have told,
They won the wealth of a princely throne, now
    taken far and wide,
By men who never mined an ounce, while
    those who did have died.

The town gave me none of its fortune-I gave
    to it nothing of fame,
Tho' I share with its sons and daughters, the
    glory that made it a name.
But it did give me something that lingers-the
    sweetest memories I know
When I walked with her crowds on Saturday
    nights-Some Forty Years Ago.

"Eagle," 16/9/1899.-The fish in Millchester Creek and' the various other riveulets round and about the Towers ought to rejoice. The Charters Towers Fish Protection Society and Anglers Club held a meeting during the week. Talking of fish. sharks abound very much on the Towers and especially at the seaport of Millchester. These are of various kinds. Law sharks, land sharks, share sharks, religious sharks, political sharks and last, but not least, beer sharks.

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