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The last dragon

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Title: The last dragon

Author: Dan Totheroh

Illustrator: Eleanor Osborn Eadie

 
Release date: June 29, 2025 [eBook #76411]

Language: English

Original publication: New York: George H. Doran Company, 1927

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/76411

Credits: Susan E., David E. Brown, Sue Clark, Rod Crawford, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was produced from images made available by the HathiTrust Digital Library.)

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAST DRAGON ***

THE LAST DRAGON

DAN TOTHEROH

 _THE LAST DRAGON_

 _By_
 _DAN TOTHEROH_
 _Author of "DAVID HOTFOOT"_

 _Illustrated by_
 _ELEANOR OSBORN EADIE_

 [Illustration]

 _NEW YORK_
 _GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY_

 COPYRIGHT, 1927,
 By GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY

 [Illustration]

 THE LAST DRAGON
 -- A --
 PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

 TO KAY
 WHO FIRST SAW
 THE LAST DRAGON

CONTENTS

 CHAPTER PAGE

 I THE MEADOW AND THE WOODLOT 13

 II PETER ENTERS THE WOODLOT 23

 III MR. DRAGON MEETS THE CHILDREN 30

 IV GRANDMA MEETS THE DRAGON 44

 V GOODBYE, DRAGON 57

 VI THE DRAGON TAPS ON THE WINDOW 64

 VII GOING BACKWARDS 74

 VIII CRUBBY 85

 IX THE ENCHANTED SILVER TOES 97

 X ALLAN THE ARMORER 110

 XI ON THE KING'S GREAT HIGHWAY 116

 XII PETER GOES TO THE FAIR AND WHAT HE FINDS THERE 126

 XIII THE PRINCESS WITH TOES OF SILVER 137

 XIV PETER AND MIG, THE MAGICIAN 151

 XV ON TOWARD GIGGLETOWN 159

 XVI DALLAHAN 164

 XVII ONCE MORE ON THE KING'S GREAT HIGHWAY 168

 XVIII BACK AGAIN 179

ILLUSTRATIONS

 PAGE

 "ON WITH YE FIGHT!" 25

 "LOOK AT THEM RUNNING FROM ME" 33

 GRANDMA 45

 PETER WAS STANDING ON THE DRAGON'S NECK 78

 SILVER TOES ESCAPES FROM THE OLD WITCH 106

 GRANDMA AND THE CHILDREN COME TO BE MEASURED
 FOR SUITS OF MAIL 111

 BEPPO BALANCES PETER'S SWORD ON HIS CHIN 130

 "YES, YOU HAVE ME ALWAYS, DEAR DRAGON!" 183

THE LAST DRAGON

THE LAST DRAGON

CHAPTER I

THE MEADOW AND THE WOODLOT

The meadow and the adjoining woodlot were just right for valiant
knights and fair ladies that springy Saturday afternoon. The meadow,
soft and green and open, was right for the pavilion where the jousting
match could take place,--the big beech tree at the far, sun-rising end
made such a delightful canopy over the king's judgment throne--and
then after the bout, and the victorious knight was sent forth to do
battle with the dragon, there was no more mysterious lurking place for
a coily, fire-breathing beast than the shadowy woodlot with its thick
thimble berry thicket; its black cave under the drippy spring-shelf,
and its close-grown oaks and maples.

Indeed, there was always something terrifying to the children about
the woodlot, even when the sun pierced through its wall of branches and
leaves. The thimble berry thicket had never been completely explored,
and as for the oozy cave--well, Johnathan had ventured in as far as the
first bend once, holding a bit of lighted candle, but the candle had
been blown out, and he had rushed back to wide-eyed Peter and Janet
Jane who had stayed outside, peering in at the cave's black mouth.

Johnathan, when he could get his breath, vowed he saw something strange
around the bend, just before the candle flickered out, but Johnathan
had a vivid imagination (it was he who made-up all the plays and all
the games that took place in the meadow and spilled over into the
woodlot on Saturdays) and whether he really did see something strange
around the bend or had just imagined it, Peter and Janet Jane could not
be sure. Their mother said he had just imagined it, of course! "What
nonsense, Johnathan! You're too old to imagine such things! No wonder
you were so poor in arithmetic this month!" Johnathan really didn't see
the connection.

But that wasn't _all_ about the woodlot! Peter, just six, said he had
heard a lion roaring in the thimble berry thicket one stilly evening
when he had gone back to find his lost cap in the meadow, but then
Peter had a generous share of imagination too. "Lions are only in
Africa or in a circus," Janet Jane had said with feminine authority,
but Peter replied in his well-known lisp and with his head cocked, that
there was no _good_ reason why a lion couldn't be found in a thimble
berry thicket just as well as a badger or a chipmunk, and no amount
of argument could convince him otherwise. Suppose lions _didn't_ eat
thimble berries? Couldn't one have been in the thicket for some other
reason, or couldn't one have been there for no reason at all? Why
should there always be a reason for things? Peter liked to go places
for no reason. Maybe lions did too!

Janet Jane pretended to be skeptical about the possibility of unknown
and terrifying things lurking in the woodlot, until one morning early,
having gone alone to the meadow to find mushroom buttons, she had seen
a pixie stick his head out and grin broadly at her, wriggling his
pointed ears like a rabbit at the same time. As Janet Jane stared at
him, another pixie, wearing a pink sunbonnet, although he looked very
much like a boy-pixie, otherwise, bobbed up over the first pixie's
shoulder and wriggled his long nose at her, just like a rabbit too.

Then Janet Jane, who stood rooted to the spot with astonishment,
declared that the two pixies began to sing, one in tenor and one in
bass. Strangely enough, she remembered the words of the song. It went:

 Butter and eggs, butter and eggs,
 Mushroom buttons and spider legs.
 Mix them up and bake them brown,
 And you'll have a dish that will tempt the town.

Now, this sounded suspicious to Johnathan because Janet Jane was just
learning to cook, and she was always singing receipts, and some of her
proposed dishes were queer indeed. Therefore, it was strange that the
two pixies she saw that early morning should sing receipts too, but
Janet Jane said, "Not at all!" They were doing it just to poke fun at
her. Pixies always poked fun, anyhow. They were like brownies in that
respect, and not at all like fairies who are too well brought up to
poke fun.

They sang the song through twice with a different tune each time, and
after that Janet Jane managed to say, "Shooo!" at the pixies, and they
had vanished into the woodlot. Stooping to pick up her spilled mushroom
basket, Janet Jane heard the rude fellows laughing at her--Oh, high,
shrill laughter like a tree-squirrel's bark.

So you see, since Janet Jane was sure she had seen the pixies, and
since Peter was sure he had heard the lion, and Johnathan was sure of
somet

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