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The Reluctant Dragon

           Thedramaticpossibilitiesofthethinghadtickledthedragonimmensely,andhehadbeenupfromanearlyhour,preparingforhisfirstpublicappearancewithasmuchheartinessasiftheyearshadrunbackwards,andhehadbeenagainalittledragonlet,playingwithhissistersontheflooroftheirmother’scave,atthegameofsaints-and-dragons,inwhichthedragonwasboundtowin.

           Alowmuttering,mingledwithsnorts,nowmadeitselfheard;risingtoabellowingroarthatseemedtofilltheplain.Thenacloudofsmokeobscuredthemouthofthecave,andoutofthemidstofitthedragonhimself,shining,sea-blue,magnificent,prancedsplendidlyforth;andeverybodysaid,“Oo-oo-oo!”asifhehadbeenamightyrocket!Hisscaleswereglittering,hislongspikytaillashedhissides,hisclawstoreuptheturfandsentitflyinghighoverhisback,andsmokeandfireincessantlyjettedfromhisangrynostrils.“Oh,welldone,dragon!”criedtheBoy,excitedly.“Didn’tthinkhehaditinhim!”headdedtohimself.

           St.Georgeloweredhisspear,benthishead,dughisheelsintohishorse’ssides,andcamethunderingovertheturf.Thedragonchargedwitharoarandasqueal,—agreatbluewhirlingcombinationofcoilsandsnortsandclashingjawsandspikesandfire.

           “Missed!”yelledthecrowd.Therewasamoment’sentanglementofgoldenarmourandblue-greencoils,andspikytail,andthenthegreathorse,tearingathisbit,carriedtheSaint,hisspearswunghighintheair,almostuptothemouthofthecave.

           Thedragonsatdownandbarkedviciously,whileSt.

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