The last dragon
that box. I don’t want to do small things any more. I want to do big
and splendid things. No more thieving--no more petty fighting for me.
I’m going to return the princess to you, my old friend, that is if--”
And just then Johnathan cried out, “Look! Look at that funny round
stone--it’s walking away!”
And sure enough, all of them turned to see it waddling like a funny fat
man down the road.
“That’s the stone that moved when I was sitting on it,” shouted
Dallahan. “It must be--don’t you think it is--Why, it must be”--And
they all ran after the stone. They surrounded it and it stopped,
settling down like a ruffled-up hen on a nest.
“What _is_ it?” Grandma demanded, adjusting her spectacles, and leaning
close she poked it with her fingers. “Why, it’s sort of a soft--a soft
stone--that’s very strange.”
“Look! It’s coming all apart,” said Janet Jane, squealing.
“Oh, there’s a nose and an eye!” shouted Johnathan.
“It’s a magic stone,” said the important little Crubby.
Every one gripped their swords tighter, expecting anything after that.
“There’s moonstones and a bit of a red dress,” said the cave dragon,
eyes big with surprise.
“And there’s whiskers in two braids,” Peter said.
“And there’s a disgusted expression,” said Grandma.
“Keep it together,--don’t let it fly apart!” cried Dallahan. “It’s Mig
the magician and the cart and the Princess Silver Toes and everything
all mixed up. Don’t let them fly apart or we’ll lose them!”
All the hands reached out and tried to hold the crumbling stone
together, but it seemed hopeless, just like trying to lift up a whole
armful of loose apples at once.
“Quick!--that part’s slipping away--catch it--Look, it’s running right
between your legs!” yelled Johnathan to Peter--“Catch it! Catch it!”
“I’ve got it,” said Peter, holding it up--“It looks like a silver toe.”
“That’s what it is--it’s the princess’s silver toe running away all by
itself--put it back!” Dallahan ordered.
But this was impossible to keep up, for as soon as the toe was put
back something else would run away, and so it went, and they thought
surely Mig would escape, when Grandma, fumbling in her mysterious
knitting bag, brought forth many balls of colored yarn, and whirling
one around her head like a lasso, she entangled the crumbling stone in
meshes of red and yellow wool, winding it around and around--around and
around--just as a spider winds his silken thread around a poor captive
fly or green grasshopper. And soon the stone was quiet and from the
heart of it and through the tangled yarn came a gruff voice saying,
“Let me out--let me out--I’m Mig, and I’m sorry--I’m sorry--”
“Are you _sure_ you’re sorry?” asked Dallahan.
“Yes, yes, I’m sorry, and if you let me out of here I’ll never steal
again.”
Dallahan looked at the cave dragon and the cave dragon looked at
Dallahan and slowly both creatures nodded their great heads. “All
right,” said Dallahan, with importance, “we’ll let you out.” And he
winked knowingly at Grandma and Grandma winked back at him. Then
she began to wind up the colored yarn, very quickly, back into the
mysterious knitting bag.
Then, when the last bright strand had disappeared, all eyes were fixed
on the fat stone and beheld it melted away and in its place stood a
beautiful girl with long golden hair, dressed in a red dress encrusted
with magic moonstones, and there was the strange little Mig, his
whiskers in two braids, and there was the blue cart and the little
white donkey still wearing the disgusted expression, and there were the
sacks of gold.
“You bad, bad little fellow!” said the cave dragon, reaching out with a
golden claw for Mig, the magician, but Mig spoke a strange magic word
and the next moment, there he was, flying away high, high up in the
air, in the shape of a long, blue dragonfly----“Zummmm--zummm--zummm,”
he called back at them, and that’s the same thing as, “Ha, ha, ha!” in
the language of a dragonfly. And so he disappeared, but he left the
princess behind him and the cart and the donkey and the sacks of gold.
And strangely enough, the princess was not enchanted any more. Her big
blue eyes opened like misted violets and her face was the color of a
rose, and she ran to the cave dragon with her arms stretched out and
she embraced him, and from that moment she was sixteen years and one
moment old.
“Let’s look in the sacks--it must be gold!” said Crubby, taking command
again. But Mig had had his little joke and was still the thief and the
cheater, for when they opened up the sacks, there was nothing but air
that rushed out like the winds and the bags collapsed like colored
balloons.
CHAPTER XVIII
BACK AGAIN
Well, there was certainly lots of excitement over the return of the
princess, and everybody kissed everybody else, there on the King’s
Great Highway, back in the Dark Ages, and even the disgusted donkey
began to smile.
Dallahan was the first to break up the party. “Now that I’m my old self
again,” he said, stretching a trifle longer, “I’ll have to go about my
business, doing _good_ deeds, this time, so farewell, my old friend.”
Solemnly he shook hands with the cave dragon. “If you’re ever in
Ireland, stop in and see me. You’ll always be welcome.”
“And my cave is always open to you, friend of my youth,” said the cave
dragon.
“I thank you,” returned Dallahan, bowing low.
And then he said farewell to the princess and apologized to her for
having stolen her, and then he hugged Peter and told him he would
always, always remember him. “You are a brave knight,” he said. “You
should have been with great King Arthur.” And he patted Peter’s curly
head.
Then turning his nose toward Ireland, he went away, his red-gold scales
flashing like rubies in the sun. Far down the highway, he turned and
waved at them and then was gone.
“Pardon me,” said the white donkey in a disgusted voice, “_I’m_ going
too. Mig magicked me out of a nice warm barn filled with oats and hay
and I want very much to get back to it. Goodbye, all--very unhappy to
have made your acquaintance.” And he too was gone, taking the cart with
him.
“And what’s to be done now?” Grandma asked.
“We’ll have to fight _something_,” announced Crubby, “now that we’ve
bought all this armor and these swords.”
“Nonsense!” said Grandma, “that’s no argument! We’ll just go home to
sleep. Look at those children.”
Dropped down beside the highway, under the poplar trees, Johnathan,
Janet Jane and Peter were nodding, their eyes closed, and the dogs were
lying asleep.
“They’ve had a long, long day of adventure,” said the dragon, smiling
wistfully as he looked at the drowsy children. “We’ll go back to the
cave and put them to bed.”
“No,” said Grandma, after a short pause, “we’ll take them back to the
nursery.”
“Back to the nursery?” exclaimed the dragon, very much surprised.
“Yes, back to where they belong. _You_ belong here. _They_ belong
there. They can run back with you down the road of time but they cannot
stay. _You_ know that, Dragon, just as well as I do.”
“Yes, you’re right,” agreed the dragon with a sigh. “Dear, dear me, the
world’s a funny place, isn’t it now?”
“Don’t begin feeling sorry for yourself,” Grandma snapped. “You have
your princess and you have Crubby. Be satisfied with what you have.”
“Yes, you have me, always and always, dear, dear dragon,” said the
Princess Silver Toes, throwing her arms around the dragon’s neck. “I’ll
sing for you and dance for you for ever and ever and ever.”
“Now, see that?” said Grandma, “What could be sweeter?”
“If she sings for ever and ever and ever, _I’ll_ leave!” said Crubby.
He was very, very jealous of the princess.
“Tut, tut,” Grandma said, “you know you never could. Come now, Dragon,
get the children on your back. Look at poor Peter”--
When they returned to the cave, the dragon turned and winked at Grandma
before plunging in, and Grandma winked back at the dragon. Then into
the darkness of the cave they plunged, stopping for only a moment to
pick up Grandma’s famous rocking chair, and after the old lady was
seated in it, creaking away once more, down, down, down into the cave
the dragon ran, deeper and deeper, darker and darker, and faster and
faster. But only Grandma knew how fast they were going, and maybe
Crubby in his perch behind the dragon’s ear, for the rest of them
slept, cuddled together on the dragon’s warm back, Silver Toes, too.
And finally, far, far ahead, Grandma saw a tiny speck of light like
a round pin-hole which grew and grew, and she could feel the dragon
becoming smaller and smaller, and the armor of the Dark Ages melted
away and Grandma was in her lavender gown once more and the children
were cuddled up in their white night gowns.
“What’s that?” whispered Grandma, like a little child in the dark.
“That’s the drip, drip, drip of the spring-shelf,” said the dragon.
“Don’t you know where you are now?”
“Yes, I do now,” said Grandma, “it’s the first bend of the cave in the
woodlot. We’re home again.”
“Yes,” said the dragon.
A burst of sunlight and the green of the trees and they came into
morning again--a Sunday morning with all the bells ringing and birds
on the wing. In the woodlot, pixies ran for shelter as the dragon came
through, and one, in a flurry, lost his pink sunbonnet in the thimble
berry thicket....
At the breakfast table that morning, Dad Baxter silenced the shrill
voices of Johnathan, Janet Jane and Peter. “You children are talking
the greatest lot of nonsense,” he said. “Where _did_ you get such
imaginations?”
“It’s _not_ imagination, Daddy!” they all protested--“Is it, Grams?”
Grandma, seated in her corner by the window, smiled slyly. “Don’t argue
about it, dears,” she said. “We know what we know.”
“Yes,” repeated Peter, solemnly, “we know what we know.”
* * * * *
And outside in the rose garden, the silver snail said something to
the green grasshopper and the green grasshopper said something to the
silver snail, and then the polka-dot lady bug wrapped her arms around
her shell and chuckled and chuckled and chuckled. In the mud, at the
mouth of the cave in the woodlot, was the print of a foot that was
certainly not the print of a dog’s foot or the print of a pixie’s
foot either. Maybe it was imagination but it certainly resembled the
footprint of a dragon.
END
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.
Perceived typographical errors have been corrected.
Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.
Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.
Some illustrations have been moved to locations nearer to their
related text. The List of Illustrations has been updated to reflect
these moves.