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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.

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