“It’s all up, dragon!” he shouted as soon as he was within sight of the beast. “He’s coming! He’s here now! You’ll have to pull yourself together and do something at last!”
The dragon was l*****g his scales and rubbing them with a bit of house-flannel the Boy’s mother had lent him, till he shone like a great turquoise.
“Don’t be violent, Boy,” he said without looking round. “Sit down and get your breath, and try and remember that the noun governs the verb, and then perhaps you’ll be good enough to tell me who’s coming?”
“That’s right, take it coolly,” said the Boy. “Hope you’ll be half as cool when I’ve got through with my news. It’s only St. George who’s coming, that’s all; he rode into the village half-an-hour ago. Of course you can lick him — a great big fellow like you! But I though
