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The Reluctant Dragon
InolddaysIalwayslettheotherfellows—theEARNESTfellows—doallthefighting,andnodoubtthat’swhyIhavethepleasureofbeingherenow.”
“Butifyoudon’tfighthe’llcutyourheadoff!”gaspedtheBoy,miserableattheprospectoflosingbothhisfightandhisfriend.
“Oh,Ithinknot,”saidthedragoninhislazyway.“You’llbeabletoarrangesomething.I’veeveryconfidenceinyou,you’resuchaMANAGER.Justrundown,there’sadearchap,andmakeitallright.Ileaveitentirelytoyou.”
TheBoymadehiswaybacktothevillageinastateofgreatdespondency.Firstofall,therewasn’tgoingtobeanyfight;next,hisdearandhonouredfriendthedragonhadn’tshownupinquitesuchaheroiclightashewouldhaveliked;andlastly,whetherthedragonwasaheroatheartornot,itmadenodifference,forSt.Georgewouldmostundoubtedlycuthisheadoff.“Arrangethingsindeed!”hesaidbitterlytohimself.“Thedragontreatsthewholeaffairasifitwasaninvitationtoteaandcroquet.”
Thevillagerswerestragglinghomewardsashepassedupthestreet,alloftheminthehighestspirits,andgleefullydiscussingthesplendidfightthatwasinstore.TheBoypursuedhiswaytotheinn,andpassedintotheprincipalchamber,whereSt.Georgenowsatalone,musingoverthechancesofthefight,andthesadstoriesofrapineandofwrongthathadsolatelybeenpouredintohissympatheticears.
“MayIcomein,St.George?”saidtheBoypolitely,ashepausedatthedoor.
