VI. The Dragon Tamers
There was once an old, old castle--it was so old that its walls andtowers and turrets and gateways and arches had crumbled to ruins, and ofall its old splendor there were only two little rooms left; and it washere that John the blacksmith had set up his forge. He was too poor tolive in a proper house, and no one asked any rent for the rooms in theruin, because all the lords of the castle were dead and gone this many ayear. So there John blew his bellows and hammered his iron and did allthe work which came his way. This was not much, because most of thetrade went to the mayor of the town, who was also a blacksmith in quitea large way of business, and had his huge forge facing the square of thetown, and had twelve apprentices, all hammering like a nest ofwoodpeckers, and twelve journeymen to order the apprentices about, and apatent forge and a self-acting hammer and electric bellows, and allthings handsome about him. So of course the townspeople, whenever theywanted a horse shod or a shaft mended, went to the mayor. John theblacksmith struggled on as best he could, with a few odd jobs fromtravelers and strangers who did not know what a superior forge themayor's was. The two rooms were warm and weather-tight, but not verylarge; so the blacksmith got into the way of keeping his old iron, hisodds and ends, his fagots, and his twopence worth of coal in the greatdungeon down under the castle. It was a very fine dungeon indeed, with ahandsome vaulted roof and big iron rings whose staples were built intothe wall, very strong and convenient for tying captives to, and at oneend was a broken flight of wide steps leading down no one knew where.Even the lords of the castle in the good old times had never known wherethose steps led to, but every now and then they would kick a prisonerdown the steps in their lighthearted, hopeful way, and sure enough, theprisoners never came back. The blacksmith had never dared to go beyondthe seventh step, and no more have I--so I know no more than he did whatwas at the bottom of those stairs.
John the blacksmith had a wife and a little baby. When his wife was notdoing the housework she used to nurse the baby and cry, remembering thehappy days when she lived with her father, who kept seventeen cows andlived quite in the country, and when John used to come courting her inthe summer evenings, as smart as smart, with a posy in his buttonhole.And now John's hair was getting gray, and there was hardly ever enoughto eat.
As for the baby, it cried a good deal at odd times; but at night, whenits mother had settled down to sleep, it would always begin to cry,quite as a matter of course, so that she hardly got any rest at all.This made her very tired.
The baby could make up for its bad nights during the day if it liked,but the poor mother couldn't. So whenever she had nothing to do she usedto sit and cry, because she was tired out with work and worry.
One evening the blacksmith was busy with his forge. He was making agoat-shoe for the goat of a very rich lady, who wished to see how thegoat liked being shod, and also whether the shoe would come to fivepenceor sevenpence before she ordered the whole set. This was the only orderJohn had had that week. And as he worked his wife sat and nursed thebaby, who, for a wonder, was not crying.
Presently, over the noise of the bellows and over the clank of the iron,there came another sound. The blacksmith and his wife looked at eachother.
"I heard nothing," said he.
"Neither did I," said she.
But the noise grew louder--and the two were so anxious not to hear itthat he hammered away at the goat-shoe harder than he had ever hammeredin his life, and she began to sing to the baby--a thing she had not hadthe heart to do for weeks.
But through the blowing and hammering and singing the noise came louderand louder, and the more they tried not to hear it, the more they hadto. It was like the noise of some great creature purring, purring,purring--and the reason they did not want to believe they really heardit was that it came from the great dungeon down below, where the oldiron was, and the firewood and the twopence worth of coal, and thebroken steps that went down into the dark and ended no one knew where.
"It can't be anything in the dungeon," said the blacksmith, wiping hisface. "Why, I shall have to go down there after more coals in a minute."
"There isn't anything there, of course. How could there be?" said hiswife. And they tried so hard to believe that there could be nothingthere that presently they very nearly did believe it.
Then the blacksmith took his shovel in one hand and his riveting hammerin the other, and hung the old stable lantern on his little finger, andwent down to get the coals.
"I am not taking the hammer because I think there is something there,"said he, "but it is handy for breaking the large lumps of coal."
"I quite understand," said his wife, who had brought the coal home inher apron that very afternoon, and knew that it was all coal dust.
So he went down the winding stairs to the dungeon and stood at thebottom of the steps, holding the lantern above his head just to see thatthe dungeon really was empty, as usual. Half of it was empty as usual,except for the old iron and odds and ends, and the firewood and thecoals. But the other side was not empty. It was quite full, and what itwas full of was Dragon.
"It must have come up those nasty broken steps from goodness knowswhere," said the blacksmith to himself, trembling all over, as he triedto creep back up the winding stairs.
But the dragon was too quick for him--it put out a great claw and caughthim by the leg, and as it moved it rattled like a great bunch of keys,or like the sheet iron they make thunder out of in pantomimes.
"No you don't," said the dragon in a spluttering voice, like a dampsquib.
"Deary, deary me," said poor John, trembling more than ever in the clawof the dragon. "Here's a nice end for a respectable blacksmith!"
The dragon seemed very much struck by this remark.
"Do you mind saying that again?" said he, quite politely.
So John said again, very distinctly:"_Here_--_is_--_a_--_nice_--_end_--_for_--_a_--_respectable_--_blacksmith._"
"I didn't know," said the dragon. "Fancy now! You're the very man Iwanted."
"So I understood you to say before," said John, his teeth chattering.
"Oh, I don't mean what you mean," said the dragon, "but I should likeyou to do a job for me. One of my wings has got some of the rivets outof it just above the joint. Could you put that to rights?"
"I might, sir," said John, politely, for you must always be polite to apossible customer, even if he be a dragon.
"A master craftsman--you are a master, of course?--can see in a minutewhat's wrong," the dragon went on. "Just come around here and feel myplates, will you?"
John timidly went around when the dragon took his claw away; and sureenough, the dragon's wing was hanging loose, and several of the platesnear the joint certainly wanted riveting.
The dragon seemed to be made almost entirely of iron armor--a sort oftawny, red-rust color it was; from damp, no doubt--and under it heseemed to be covered with something furry.
All the blacksmith welled up in John's heart, and he felt more at ease.
"You could certainly do with a rivet or two, sir," said he. "In fact,you want a good many."
"Well, get to work, then," said the dragon. "You mend my wing, and thenI'll go out and eat up all the town, and if you make a really smart jobof it I'll eat you last. There!"
"I don't want to be eaten last, sir," said John.
"Well then, I'll eat you first," said the dragon.
"I don't want that, sir, either," said John.
"Go on with you, you silly man," said the dragon, "you don't know yourown silly mind. Come, set to work."
"I don't like the job, sir," said John, "and that's the truth. I knowhow easily accidents happen. It's all fair and smooth, and 'Please rivetme, and I'll eat you last'--and then you get to work and you give agentleman a bit of a nip or a dig under his rivets--and then it's fireand smoke, and no apologies will meet the case."
"Upon my word of honor as a dragon," said the other.
"I know you wouldn't do it on purpose, sir," said John, "but anygentleman wil
l give a jump and a sniff if he's nipped, and one of yoursniffs would be enough for me. Now, if you'd just let me fasten you up?"
"It would be so undignified," objected the dragon.
"We always fasten a horse up," said John, "and he's the 'noble animal.'"
"It's all very well," said the dragon, "but how do I know you'd untie meagain when you'd riveted me? Give me something in pledge. What do youvalue most?"
"My hammer," said John. "A blacksmith is nothing without a hammer."
"But you'd want that for riveting me. You must think of something else,and at once, or I'll eat you first."
At this moment the baby in the room above began to scream. Its motherhad been so quiet that it thought she had settled down for the night,and that it was time to begin.
"Whatever's that?" said the dragon, starting so that every plate on hisbody rattled.
"It's only the baby," said John.
"What's that?" asked the dragon. "Something you value?"
"Well, yes, sir, rather," said the blacksmith.
"Then bring it here," said the dragon, "and I'll take care of it tillyou've done riveting me, and you shall tie me up."
"All right, sir," said John, "but I ought to warn you. Babies are poisonto dragons, so I don't deceive you. It's all right to touch--but don'tyou go putting it into your mouth. I shouldn't like to see any harm cometo a nice-looking gentleman like you."
The dragon purred at this compliment and said: "All right, I'll becareful. Now go and fetch the thing, whatever it is."
So John ran up the steps as quickly as he could, for he knew that if thedragon got impatient before it was fastened, it could heave up the roofof the dungeon with one heave of its back, and kill them all in theruins. His wife was asleep, in spite of the baby's cries; and Johnpicked up the baby and took it down and put it between the dragon'sfront paws.
"You just purr to it, sir," he said, "and it'll be as good as gold."
So the dragon purred, and his purring pleased the baby so much that itstopped crying.
Then John rummaged among the heap of old iron and found there some heavychains and a great collar that had been made in the days when men sangover their work and put their hearts into it, so that the things theymade were strong enough to bear the weight of a thousand years, letalone a dragon.
John fastened the dragon up with the collar and the chains, and when hehad padlocked them all on safely he set to work to find out how manyrivets would be needed.
"Six, eight, ten--twenty, forty," said he. "I haven't half enough rivetsin the shop. If you'll excuse me, sir, I'll step around to another forgeand get a few dozen. I won't be a minute."
"The dragon's purring pleased the baby." _See page106._]
And off he went, leaving the baby between the dragon's fore-paws,laughing and crowing with pleasure at the very large purr of it.
John ran as hard as he could into the town, and found the mayor andcorporation.
"There's a dragon in my dungeon," he said; "I've chained him up. Nowcome and help to get my baby away."
And he told them all about it.
But they all happened to have engagements for that evening; so theypraised John's cleverness, and said they were quite content to leave thematter in his hands.
"But what about my baby?" said John.
"Oh, well," said the mayor, "if anything should happen, you will alwaysbe able to remember that your baby perished in a good cause."
So John went home again, and told his wife some of the tale.
"You've given the baby to the dragon!" she cried. "Oh, you unnaturalparent!"
"Hush," said John, and he told her some more. "Now," he said, "I'm goingdown. After I've been down you can go, and if you keep your head the boywill be all right."
So down went the blacksmith, and there was the dragon purring away withall his might to keep the baby quiet.
"Hurry up, can't you?" he said. "I can't keep up this noise all night."
"I'm very sorry, sir," said the blacksmith, "but all the shops are shut.The job must wait till the morning. And don't forget you've promised totake care of that baby. You'll find it a little wearing, I'm afraid.Good night, sir."
The dragon had purred till he was quite out of breath--so now hestopped, and as soon as everything was quiet the baby thought everyonemust have settled for the night, and that it was time to begin toscream. So it began.
"Oh, dear," said the dragon, "this is awful." He patted the baby withhis claw, but it screamed more than ever.
"And I am so tired too," said the dragon. "I did so hope I should have agood night."
The baby went on screaming.
"There'll be no peace for me after this," said the dragon. "It's enoughto ruin one's nerves. Hush, then--did 'ums, then." And he tried to quietthe baby as if it had been a young dragon. But when he began to sing"Hush-a-by, Dragon," the baby screamed more and more and more. "I can'tkeep it quiet," said the dragon; and then suddenly he saw a womansitting on the steps. "Here, I say," said he, "do you know anythingabout babies?"
"I do, a little," said the mother.
"Then I wish you'd take this one, and let me get some sleep," said thedragon, yawning. "You can bring it back in the morning before theblacksmith comes."
So the mother picked up the baby and took it upstairs and told herhusband, and they went to bed happy, for they had caught the dragon andsaved the baby.
And next day John went down and explained carefully to the dragonexactly how matters stood, and he got an iron gate with a grating to itand set it up at the foot of the steps, and the dragon mewed furiouslyfor days and days, but when he found it was no good he was quiet.
So now John went to the mayor, and said: "I've got the dragon and I'vesaved the town."
"Noble preserver," cried the mayor, "we will get up a subscription foryou, and crown you in public with a laurel wreath."
So the mayor put his name down for five pounds, and the corporation eachgave three, and other people gave their guineas and half guineas andhalf crowns and crowns, and while the subscription was being made themayor ordered three poems at his own expense from the town poet tocelebrate the occasion. The poems were very much more admired,especially by the mayor and corporation.
The first poem dealt with the noble conduct of the mayor in arranging tohave the dragon tied up. The second described the splendid assistancerendered by the corporation. And the third expressed the pride and joyof the poet in being permitted to sing such deeds, beside which theactions of St. George must appear quite commonplace to all with afeeling heart or a well-balanced brain.
When the subscription was finished there was a thousand pounds, and acommittee was formed to settle what should be done with it. A third ofit went to pay for a banquet to the mayor and corporation; another thirdwas spent in buying a gold collar with a dragon on it for the mayor andgold medals with dragons on them for the corporation; and what was leftwent in committee expenses.
So there was nothing for the blacksmith except the laurel wreath and theknowledge that it really was he who had saved the town. But after thisthings went a little better with the blacksmith. To begin with, the babydid not cry so much as it had before. Then the rich lady who owned thegoat was so touched by John's noble action that she ordered a completeset of shoes at 2 shillings, 4 pence, and even made it up to 2shillings, 6 pence, in grateful recognition of his public-spiritedconduct. Then tourists used to come in breaks from quite a long way off,and pay twopence each to go down the steps and peep through the irongrating at the rusty dragon in the dungeon--and it was threepence extrafor each party if the blacksmith let off colored fire to see it by,which, as the fire was extremely short, was twopence-halfpenny clearprofit every time. And the blacksmith's wife used to provide teas atninepence a head, and altogether things grew brighter week by week.
The baby--named John, after his father, and called Johnnie forshort--began presently to grow up. He was great friends with Tina, thedaughter of the whitesmith, who lived nearly opposite. She was a dear
little girl with yellow pigtails and blue eyes, and she was tired ofhearing the story of how Johnnie, when he was a baby, had been minded bya real dragon.
The two children used to go together to peep through the iron grating atthe dragon, and sometimes they would hear him mew piteously. And theywould light a halfpenny's worth of colored fire to look at him by. Andthey grew older and wiser.
At last one day the mayor and corporation, hunting the hare in theirgold gowns, came screaming back to the town gates with the news that alame, humpy giant, as big as a tin church, was coming over the marshestoward the town.
"We're lost," said the mayor. "I'd give a thousand pounds to anyone whocould keep that giant out of the town. I know what he eats--by histeeth."
No one seemed to know what to do. But Johnnie and Tina were listening,and they looked at each other, and ran off as fast as their boots wouldcarry them.
They ran through the forge, and down the dungeon steps, and knocked atthe iron door. "Who's there?" said the dragon. "It's only us," said thechildren.
And the dragon was so dull from having been alone for ten years that hesaid: "Come in, dears."
"You won't hurt us, or breathe fire at us or anything?" asked Tina.
And the dragon said, "Not for worlds."
So they went in and talked to him, and told him what the weather waslike outside, and what there was in the papers, and at last Johnniesaid: "There's a lame giant in the town. He wants you."
"Does he?" said the dragon, showing his teeth. "If only I were out ofthis!"
"If we let you loose you might manage to run away before he could catchyou."
"Yes, I might," answered the dragon, "but then again I mightn't."
"Why--you'd never fight him?" said Tina.
"No," said the dragon; "I'm all for peace, I am. You let me out, andyou'll see."
So the children loosed the dragon from the chains and the collar, andhe broke down one end of the dungeon and went out--only pausing at theforge door to get the blacksmith to rivet his wing.
He met the lame giant at the gate of the town, and the giant banged onthe dragon with his club as if he were banging an iron foundry, and thedragon behaved like a smelting works--all fire and smoke. It was afearful sight, and people watched it from a distance, falling off theirlegs with the shock of every bang, but always getting up to look again.
At last the dragon won, and the giant sneaked away across the marshes,and the dragon, who was very tired, went home to sleep, announcing hisintention of eating the town in the morning. He went back into his olddungeon because he was a stranger in the town, and he did not know ofany other respectable lodging. Then Tina and Johnnie went to the mayorand corporation and said, "The giant is settled. Please give us thethousand pounds reward."
But the mayor said: "No, no, my boy. It is not you who have settled thegiant, it is the dragon. I suppose you have chained him up again? Whenhe comes to claim the reward he shall have it."
"He isn't chained up yet," said Johnnie. "Shall I send him to claim thereward?"
But the mayor said he need not trouble; and now he offered a thousandpounds to anyone who would get the dragon chained up again.
"I don't trust you," said Johnnie. "Look how you treated my father whenhe chained up the dragon."
But the people who were listening at the door interrupted, and said thatif Johnnie could fasten up the dragon again they would turn out themayor and let Johnnie be mayor in his place. For they had beendissatisfied with the mayor for some time, and thought they would like achange.
So Johnnie said, "Done," and off he went, hand in hand with Tina, andthey called on all their little friends and said: "Will you help us tosave the town?"
And all the children said: "Yes, of course we will. What fun!"
"Well, then," said Tina, "you must all bring your basins of bread andmilk to the forge tomorrow at breakfast time."
"And if ever I am mayor," said Johnnie, "I will give a banquet, and youshall be invited. And we'll have nothing but sweet things from beginningto end."
All the children promised, and next morning Tina and Johnnie rolledtheir big washing tub down the winding stair.
"What's that noise?" asked the dragon.
"It's only a big giant breathing," said Tina, "He's gone by now."
Then, when all the town children brought their bread and milk, Tinaemptied it into the wash tub, and when the tub was full Tina knocked atthe iron door with the grating in it and said: "May we come in?"
"Oh, yes," said the dragon, "it's very dull here."
So they went in, and with the help of nine other children they liftedthe washing tub in and set it down by the dragon. Then all the otherchildren went away, and Tina and Johnnie sat down and cried.
"What's this?" asked the dragon. "And what's the matter?"
"This is bread and milk," said Johnnie; "it's our breakfast--all of it."
"Well," said the dragon, "I don't see what you want with breakfast. I'mgoing to eat everyone in the town as soon as I've rested a little."
"Dear Mr. Dragon," said Tina, "I wish you wouldn't eat us. How would youlike to be eaten yourself?"
"Not at all," the dragon confessed, "but nobody will eat me."
"I don't know," said Johnnie, "there's a giant--"
"I know. I fought with him, and licked him."
"Yes, but there's another come now--the one you fought was only thisone's little boy. This one is half as big again."
"He's seven times as big," said Tina.
"No, nine times," said Johnnie. "He's bigger than the steeple."
"Oh, dear," said the dragon. "I never expected this."
"And the mayor has told him where you are," Tina went on, "and he iscoming to eat you as soon as he has sharpened his big knife. The mayortold him you were a wild dragon--but he didn't mind. He said he only atewild dragons--with bread sauce."
"That's tiresome," said the dragon. "And I suppose this sloppy stuff inthe tub is the bread sauce?"
The children said it was. "Of course," they added, "bread sauce is onlyserved with wild dragons. Tame ones are served with apple sauce andonion stuffing. What a pity you're not a tame one: He'd never look atyou then," they said. "Good-bye, poor dragon, we shall never see youagain, and now you'll know what it's like to be eaten." And they beganto cry again.
"Well, but look here," said the dragon, "couldn't you pretend I was atame dragon? Tell the giant that I'm just a poor little timid tamedragon that you kept for a pet."
"He'd never believe it," said Johnnie. "If you were our tame dragon weshould keep you tied up, you know. We shouldn't like to risk losing sucha dear, pretty pet."
Then the dragon begged them to fasten him up at once, and they did so:with the collar and chains that were made years ago--in the days whenmen sang over their work and made it strong enough to bear any strain.
And then they went away and told the people what they had done, andJohnnie was made mayor, and had a glorious feast exactly as he had saidhe would--with nothing in it but sweet things. It began with Turkishdelight and halfpenny buns, and went on with oranges, toffee, coconutice, peppermints, jam puffs, raspberry-noyeau, ice creams, andmeringues, and ended with bull's-eyes and gingerbread and acid drops.
This was all very well for Johnnie and Tina; but if you are kindchildren with feeling hearts you will perhaps feel sorry for the poordeceived, deluded dragon--chained up in the dull dungeon, with nothingto do but to think over the shocking untruths that Johnnie had told him.
When he thought how he had been tricked, the poor captive dragon beganto weep--and the large tears fell down over his rusty plates. Andpresently he began to feel faint, as people sometimes do when they havebeen crying, especially if they have not had anything to eat for tenyears or so.
And then the poor creature dried his eyes and looked about him, andthere he saw the tub of bread and milk. So he thought, "If giants likethis damp, white stuff, perhaps I should like it too," and he tasted alittle, and liked it so much that he ate it all up.
>
And the next time the tourists came, and Johnnie let off the coloredfire, the dragon said shyly: "Excuse my troubling you, but could youbring me a little more bread and milk?"
So Johnnie arranged that people should go around with carts every day tocollect the children's bread and milk for the dragon. The children werefed at the town's expense--on whatever they liked; and they ate nothingbut cake and buns and sweet things, and they said the poor dragon wasvery welcome to their bread and milk.
Now, when Johnnie had been mayor ten years or so he married Tina, and ontheir wedding morning they went to see the dragon. He had grown quitetame, and his rusty plates had fallen off in places, and underneath hewas soft and furry to stroke. So now they stroked him.
And he said, "I don't know how I could ever have liked eating anythingbut bread and milk. I _am_ a tame dragon now, aren't I?" And when theysaid that yes, he was, the dragon said: "I am so tame, won't you undome?" And some people would have been afraid to trust him, but Johnnieand Tina were so happy on their wedding day that they could not believeany harm of anyone in the world. So they loosened the chains, and thedragon said: "Excuse me a moment, there are one or two little things Ishould like to fetch," and he moved off to those mysterious steps andwent down them, out of sight into the darkness. And as he moved, moreand more of his rusty plates fell off.
In a few minutes they heard him clanking up the steps. He broughtsomething in his mouth--it was a bag of gold.
"It's no good to me," he said. "Perhaps you might find it useful." Sothey thanked him very kindly.
"More where that came from," said he, and fetched more and more andmore, till they told him to stop. So now they were rich, and so weretheir fathers and mothers. Indeed, everyone was rich, and there were nomore poor people in the town. And they all got rich without working,which is very wrong; but the dragon had never been to school, as youhave, so he knew no better.
And as the dragon came out of the dungeon, following Johnnie and Tinainto the bright gold and blue of their wedding day, he blinked his eyesas a cat does in the sunshine, and he shook himself, and the last of hisplates dropped off, and his wings with them, and he was just like avery, very extra-sized cat. And from that day he grew furrier andfurrier, and he was the beginning of all cats. Nothing of the dragonremained except the claws, which all cats have still, as you can easilyascertain.
And I hope you see now how important it is to feed your cat with breadand milk. If you were to let it have nothing to eat but mice and birdsit might grow larger and fiercer, and scalier and tailier, and get wingsand turn into the beginning of dragons. And then there would be all thebother over again.
"He brought something in his mouth--it was a bag ofgold." _See page 116._]
VII
THE FIERY DRAGON]