DRAGON LONGZE STRANDED PRO TEM AT THE KINGDOM OF AVARKAN (BY BOST, 2026) PART 1

 

The Princess Juyin and the (grounds’ keeper’s) gardener's boy Stevor had always gotten  along famously and since very little, were very good friends; having rich imaginations, they often played in the backyard garden, creating adventurous scenarios where the princess was always saved by a dashing, heroic warrior, after Stevor  slayed the bad monster with his wooden sword. At noon, they would take brief respite under the huge elm tree, sipping pretend tea, eating tiny cucumber sandwiches and conversing.

 

01- TEA PARTY BETW FRIENDS JP

"What will you do when you grow up, Princess?" One day asked Stevor, the gardener’s only son.

"I should like to marry you, Stevor," said the Princess. "Would you mind?"

"No," said the Stevor smiling. "I shouldn't mind it at all. I'll marry you if you like—that is, if I have time." For Stevor meant, as soon as he was a grown up and became a general, a mighty warrior, a scholar, or perhaps a high official like the Prime Minister. Meanwhile, he was brilliant in mind and was brave and good at fighting and on top, excelled in all his lessons, getting top marks in the school. Naturally, a great future lay ahead for him.

As for the Princess Juyin, she was a very good little girl, and everyone loved her. She was always kind and polite, even to her Uncle Davos and to other people whom she did not like very much; and though she was not very clever, for a Princess, she always tried to do her best in school. Even if you know perfectly well that you can't do your lessons, you may as well try, and sometimes you find that by some fortunate accident they really are done.

Besides being very pretty, Princess Juyin had a truly good heart; most of all, she loved and deeply cared for all types of animals. Suffice it to say, she had many pets; she was always, without fail, very considerate of all her pets and they were always well cared for, spoiled even. She never was cross at her playful puppy Fido, when it broke her delicate glass figurines in its playful gambols, and she never forgot to feed her bunnies in their little hutch in the backyard. She often rode her white pony right up to the edge of the forest; the dense forest with ancient trees and supposedly inhabited by the fairies, therefore, she was cautioned never to trespass. Being a good girl, she never did. But she wasn’t always good, sometimes Juyin made her nurse quite cross by smuggling to her bedroom little abandoned or forsaken wayward (unruly, willful) animals, like the dear little red fox, which afterwards, she would even let him sleep all curled up under the covers and at the foot of her bed.

02- PRINCESS AND LITTLE RED FOXJP

Thursday mornings were reserved for lovely tea parties with her little aristocratic friends, when the little dukes and duchesses and marquises and countesses all dressed up in their fineries, pretending to be mature adults like their parents. Seated at tiny tables, with soft music wafting through the air, they would have polite conversations, as they partook of the tiny cucumber sandwiches, delectable morsels (tidbits) of pastries, cupcakes and of course tea. Kingdom was well run so life was good for everyone and all the days passed without much variance (dissent).

Avarkan was a beautiful peaceful kingdom indeed, for everybody was kind—except one.

Now that you have read as far as this you know, of course, that the Kingdom of Avarkan was a very remarkable place; and if you are a thoughtful child—as of course you are—you will not need me to tell you what the most remarkable thing about it was. But in case you are not a thoughtful child—and it is just possible of course that you are not—I will tell you at once what that most remarkable thing was. There were some abnormalities, more specifically, animals on this island kingdom that were the wrong sizes! And this was how it had happened.

In most ancient times, when all the  world was just loose earth and air and fire and water mixed up anyhow like a pudding, and spinning around like mad trying to get the different things to settle into their proper places, a round piece of earth got loose and went spinning away by itself across the water, which was just beginning to try to get spread out smooth into a real sea. And as the great round piece of earth flew away, going around and around as hard as it could, it met a long piece of hard rock (which resembled a pole) that had got loose from another part of the pudding mixture, and the rock was so hard, and was going so fast, that it ran its point through the round piece of earth and stuck out on the other side of it, so that the two together were like a very-very-much-too-big spinning top.

Well, when the pointed rock smashed into the round bit of earth the shock was so great that it set them spinning together through the air—which was just getting into its proper place, like all the rest of the things—only, as luck would have it, they forgot which way around they had been going, and began to spin around the wrong way. In other words, instead of clockwise, it spun counterclockwise. Presently Center of Gravity—a great giant who was managing the whole business—woke up in the middle of the earth and began to grumble.

"Hurry up," he said. "Settle down and lie still, can't you?"

03- THE GIANT - JP

So, the rock with the round piece of earth fell into the sea, and the point of the rock went into a hole that just fitted it in the stony sea bottom, and there it spun around the wrong way (counterclockwise) seven times and then lay still. And that round piece of land became, after millions of years, a mysterious island in the middle of the vast ocean, which later became the Kingdom of Avarkan.

Of course, the consequence of the island having spun around the wrong way was that when the animals began to grow on the island, some grew to be the wrong sizes. The guinea pig, for instance, became as big as an elephant, and the elephant—was the size of the silly, tiny mouse. Well, you get the gist of it. But luckily, few of the animals, such as rabbits, dogs, sheep, oxen, horses and foxes, fortunately had remained the normal sizes.

Oh, but because of the reverse polarity, some unusual animals and entities, particularly supernatural ones, also came to be existent, such as dragons, pixies (fairies, elves, sprites) and goblins (trolls) that were typically absent in the usual mortal world. Most of these, nevertheless, were believed to be persisting (living) in high peaks of the snow-capped mountains or in that forbidden dense forest where ancient trees reached up to the sky, though no one had ever seen them.  But we are getting bit ahead of ourselves.

The men and women and children which at present inhabits (populates, dwells in) this magic island, meanwhile, are all quite the right size, why? Because their ancestors had come over in huge ships, with the Conqueror Tonzaq, who was the little princes Juyin’s great, great grandfather, long after the island had formed (rocks and soil settled down) and the woods and fauna (wildlife, animals, creatures and beasts) thrived on it.

04- CONQUEROR TONZAQ - JUYIN'S GREAT GRANDFATHER

Now the natural history lesson is over, and if you have been attending, you know more about Avarkan than anyone there did, except three people: the Lord Chief Schoolmaster, the Princess's uncle Davos—who was a magician, and knew everything without learning it—and of course, diligent Stevor, the gardener's son.

Stevor had a natural inclination to books, and he had read all kinds, pouring over them in the library, till there were no books left unread. His knowledge was far superior to anyone else’s in his classroom.  At the upcoming annual autumn festival, there would be a contest, wherefore a prize was offered to the most learned pupil (student). He was preparing for this event. Wanting to win the coveted prize, which this year happened to be, a beautifully bound book with the Royal arms on the back, titled: The History of Avarkan. After that day, however, when the Princess had said she meant to marry Stevor, the gardener's boy thought it over, and he decided that the best prize in the world would be the Princess’s hand, and this was the prize Stevor meant to take when he grew up; and when you are a gardener's son and have decided to marry a Princess, you will find that the more you learn at school the better.

The Princess always played with Stevor on the days when the little dukes and marquises did not come for tea—and when he told her he was almost sure of the first prize, she clapped her hands and said: "Dear Stevor, dear good, clever Stevor, you deserve all the prizes. And I will give you my pet puppy Fido—and you can keep him till we're married."

The pet puppy Fido had existed on the island way before the settlement of humans, and way before princess found and adapted him; therefore, Fido was a miniature canine about three inches in scale, compared to other normal size dogs that were owned by citizens and aristocrats living on this very island. Anyway, he was quite adorable, and immediately taking to Stevor, he’d reached up and licked his hand. This tickled Stevor, so he giggled and then affectionately, using his pinkie (little finger), gently stroked the puppy’s head. From that moment on they became good friends.

05- FIDO

Stevor took Fido away in his coat pocket. He was the dearest little puppy you ever saw and he was very, very wise. He lay down comfortably in Stevor's pocket, and when Stevor put in his hand, Fido always licked or sucked Stevor's forefinger, with an affectionate confidence, making the boy's heart always soothed or elated with glee. What with the puppy, and the Princess's affection, and the knowledge that the very next day he would receive the History of Avarkan, beautifully bound, with the Royal arms on the cover, Stevor that night could hardly sleep a wink. And, besides, the wolf howled all night, perhaps the wolf cub was jealous, so terribly.

There was only one wolf unfortunately in Avarkan and wolves are pack animals, so he was lonely; unfortunately, for some mysterious reason, there was no other. The wolf as pup, had taken a ride in one of the early settler human’s luggage, and that’s how he came to be on the island.  His independent nature would not let him be domesticated and so he lived and run free at the edge of the woods; in time however, gradually, he came to trust Stevor, as Stevor from time to time, fed him and talked to the lonely wolf cub.  Only one problem; when the wolf cub was lonely, especially during full moon, he would howl with yearning, and the sound revibrated in the air all night long, allowing no one any respite, let alone dreams.  Though annoyed, the people put up with this for they never harmed the animals; moreover, some even pitied the wolf cub, knowing he was all alone, had no pack, no siblings, no mate nothing but humans, and only one solitary friend Stevor.  He was good most of the time though, so no one complained of this rare disturbance during the period of the full moon.

But on this night, he howled long and with excited zeal—and the Princess said, "Oh dear, oh dear, I wish he wouldn't do this all night long, I am so sleepy."

Some ways distance, Stevor reclined in his own warm bed said to himself, "I wonder whatever is the matter with Tansan; as soon as it's light I'll go and see him."  Yes, he’d named the wolf cup that, when first time he’d befriended him, and the wolf had accepted that name.  

06- WOLF-CUB TANSAN

At first daylight, when the sky was painted in pink-and-yellow hue, Stevor got up, quickly washed and breakfasted, then hastened outside, to visit his lonesome friend.

"I'll go to the pillar," thought Stevor, as he went through the town. The pillar, of course, was the top of the piece of rock that had stuck itself through Avarkan millions of years before, and made it spin around the wrong way. It was quite in the middle of the island, and stuck up ever so far, and when you were at the top you could see a great deal farther than when you were not.

As Stevor went out from the town and across the fields, he thought what a pretty sight it was to see the rabbits in the bright, dewy morning, frisking with their young ones by the mouths of their burrows. So Stevor lingered on the spot for a while, watching the family of rabbits, till the morning light grow increasingly red and golden. All this while the wolf Tansan, howled, and howled, till the church bells tinkled, and the chimney of the apple factory rocked again.

But when Stevor got to the pillar, he saw that he would not need to climb to the top to find out what the wolf ‘s howl was about. For there, by the pillar, lay a white dragon. And it was a child dragon, a toddler, no more than three dragon years. Though he was not a full-grown dragon, comparatively, he was still immense in size. His wings were like big umbrellas, with some crumpling, as though soggy, and much rained on, and his eyes were brilliant blue which was unusual for a dragon, and his tail was very, very, very long and thin and tight, like the lash of a carriage whip.

It was licking one of its seemingly injured umbrella-y wings, and every now and then it moaned and leaned its head back against the rocky pillar as though it felt faint. Stevor saw at once what had happened. A flight of dragons must have crossed over the island during the night, and this poor one, flying lower than the rest, must have knocked its wing and tore or broken it against the pillar. And so, injured, unable to fly, he was stranded now on the island.

Stevor had guessed it right.  Previous night, a group of dragons were in flight, going over the island, anxious to reach their destination in the northern hemisphere. The top of the world, peaks reaching up to the Heaven, were permanently shrouded in fog; a most desolate land of immortals, the icy peaks where dragons sometimes visited. This time however, among the adult dragons was the tiny, little, orphaned dragon Longze.  His custodian Torek had reluctantly taken him along, as he was assigned this charge by the Heavenly God, to keep an eye on him. Longze had always been a handful to manage, and this time being no different, he had flown closer to the pole, to satisfy his curious nature; unfortunately, in that storm, destructed by the lightening, his wing had struck the pole, (part of it being impaled,) got injured and so he’d plummeted to the ground.  His absence was at once noted, however, Torek allowed it to be, as a lesson to the wayward (unruly) Longze, knowing Longze would eventually catch up to them at the North pole; once he recovered from his ordeal, and in the meantime, gained some new experience (or understanding).

07- INJURED YOUNG DRAGONLONGZE 2

 Tansun had come across the injured dragon and was doing his best to comfort him; wanting to help, but not wishing to leave his site yet, in case he would fare worse, from his injury. His inability to help, was the cause for his night’s disturbance, hoping someone would respond, and come to offer assistance (help).  But weary humans needed their respite, and no one had shown up, till now that is.

Tansun was overjoyed to see Stevor there and ran up to him, to lick his hand, first time ever. For he was not domesticated.

Everyone is kind to everyone in Avarkan, and so, Stevor was not afraid of the dragon; he had often watched them flying across the sea, but he had never expected to get to know one personally.  Furthermore, he was concerned about the dragon’s apparent condition.  

He tentatively drew near and spoke to him gently:  "I can see that you have suffered an injury; is there anything I can do to help?"

The dragon shook his head. He could not speak human dialect (language), but like all mystical animals, he could understand well enough what was being said.

"Can I get you anything?" Stevor ejected insistently, with deep concern registering in his eyes.

The dragon Longze opened his eyelid and gazed questioningly for a long time at this kind boy. He’d always been warned not to trust humans and to stay clear of them. But this boy seemed genuinely concerned. He had the kindest eyes.

"I bet you are hungry; a bun or two, now," said Stevor, coaxingly. "There's a beautiful bun tree quite close by."

The dragon looked at the direction the boy had indicated, then opened wide his mouth and licked his lips.  Stevor smiled with understanding and nodded his head, then ran up to the bun tree and shook the laden branches.  He returned shortly after with an armful of fresh currant buns, and as he approached, noting something else, he veered his steps to a spot where he picked a few additional strawberry kind pastries, tarts, that had grown on the low bushes someways- off to the pillar. Because, of course, another consequence of the island's having spun the wrong way is that all the things we have to make—buns and cakes and shortbread—grow on trees and bushes, but in Avarkan they must make their cauliflowers and cabbages and carrots and apples and onions, just as our cooks make puddings and turnovers.

Stevor gave all the buns and the strawberry tarts (pastries) to the dragon Longze, saying: "Here, try to eat a little; these buns and tarts area highly nutritious, they will give you the strength you’ll need to perhaps, speedily rejuvenate (fix) that injury.” He was only guessing of course, for what did he know about dragon’s physiology, or tending to Dragons.

08- LONGZE EATS BUNS

The dragon Longze was famished and so, he promptly ate up all the buns, while keeping a (vigilant, alert) watchful eye on this unusual human being; when he had his fill, he nodded rather appreciatively and then began to lick his wing again. Stevor left him and went back to the town with the news, and everyone was so excited at a real live dragon's being on the island—a thing that had never happened before—that they all went out in droves to look at it.

Lord Chief Schoolmaster, instead of going to the prize-giving soiree (event), he, too, went with the rest; moreover, he had Stevor’s prize, the History of Avarkan, in his wide pocket—the one bound in calf, with the Royal arms on the cover—and when he leaned forward to take a closer look,  it happened to drop out, and the dragon ate it, so Stevor never got the prize after all. But the dragon, when he had wolfed (gobbled) it, did not like it.

"Perhaps it's all for the best," said Stevor. "I might not have liked that prize either, if I had gotten it."

It happened to be a Thursday, so when the Princess's friends were asked what they would like to do, all the little dukes and marquises and earls said, "Let's go and see the dragon." But the little duchesses and marchionesses and countesses said they were afraid. Then Princess Juyin spoke up royally, and said, "Don't be silly, because it's only in fairy tales that dragons are depicted as evil and mean.  Dragon’s been here for a while, and I haven’t heard of him hurting anyone. Stevor, each time got quite close in proximity to the dragon, and he wasn’t harmed in the least. We may never get such a chance, aren’t you all curious?  Let's all go and see the dragon. We might take him some acid drops." So, they went. And all the titled children took it in turns to feed the dragon with acid drops, and he seemed pleased and flattered, and wagged as much of his big tail as he could get at conveniently; for it was a very, very long tail indeed. But when it came to the Princess's turn to give an acid drop to the dragon, he smiled a very wide smile and wagged his tail to the very last long inch of it, as much as to say, "Oh, you are so very interesting and pretty!"

09- LONGZE LIKES THE PRINCESS

Longze could not rightly explain it, for he had never had this sort of strange fluttering in his chest before; moreover, he was drawn to her intriguing and unique features, like her porcelain white skin, big wide almond eyes and long locks of hair, she was quite beautiful for a human that is. In his later years, Longze would learn to shapeshift and even assume human form, but at this young age of three those abilities had not yet manifested. He ejected some sounds, but of course, nobody understood his vernacular, except the Princess's uncle Davos, and he, being a magician, was able to decipher this strange lingo (speech, argot, dialect, jargon) of the dragon.  He did not know of Longze’s age, of his innocence, his virtuous (noble and decent) and purely platonic fascination with the princess. Supposing quite the opposite, he suddenly struck on an idea.

Now, you will remember that I told you there was one wicked person in Avarkan, and I cannot conceal from you any longer that this nasty, evil person was non other than the Princess's Uncle Davos. Magicians could sometimes be bad, and some uncles are nasty, as they are at times depicted in some fairy tales.

Princess Juyin’s uncle Davos, the present regent ruler (sovereign) of Avarkan, furthermore was obsessed with his current immense power and privilege that would all end, when Juyin reached the age of consent, for she was the rightful successor (heir), and the throne had always passed down from Sovereign to his offspring, one with direct royal bloodline. Davos, despite his pseudo nice demeanor, secretly hated his niece for this and so, when he smiled at Juyin, his smile never reached his eyes; furthermore, he had no intention of ever surrendering the throne to Juyin. I say this, because she prior had two elder brothers, whom both were now deceased; one had expired due to some mysterious ailment and the other because of some freak accident shortly thereafter. 

Aside from the rule of law, she was too well liked and astutely cared for, so Davos could not as easily dispose of her. He did not like many things—but securing the throne was his top priority.  Now, however, Uncle Davos thought there might be a chance for him to effectively navigate his evil intent—because he knew that he could utilize the old, prejudiced beliefs about dragons, for his own benefit.  He’d noted the dragon’s instant infatuation with the princess; furthermore, he also knew that dragons were pure and gullible, if one knew how to deceive them, and that he did.  For the time being, he had said nothing, but he exchanged a meaningful glance with the dragon, before everyone went home for tea. Now, no one had seen the meaningful glance, except Stevor.

10- DAVOS

Stevor went home and told Fido all about it. The intelligent little creature listened carefully, and then climbed from Stevor's knee to the table, on which stood an ornamental calendar that the Princess had given Stevor for a Christmas present. With its tiny paw, he pointed out a date—the fifteenth of August, the Princess's birthday, and looked anxiously at its master.

"What is it, Fido—good little puppy—then?" said Stevor, and the sagacious animal repeated its former gesture. Then Stevor understood.

11- FIDO  WARNS

"Oh, something is going to happen on her birthday; all right. I'll be on the lookout for it." And he was.

Meanwhile, at first the citizens of Avarkan were quite pleased with the dragon, who’d stayed by the pillar and fed himself from the bun trees, but by-and-by he began to wander. He would creep into the burrows made by the excursionists, sporting on the downs, would see his long, tight, whiplike tail wriggling down a burrow and out of sight, and before they had time to say, "There he goes," his head would come poking out from another tunnel,-hole—perhaps just behind them—or laugh softly to itself just in their ears. And the dragon's laugh was a strange one. This sort of hide-and-seek amused people at first, but by-and-by it began to get on their nerves: and if you don't know what that means, ask Mother to tell you next time you are playing blind man's buff when she has a headache. Then the dragon got into the habit of cracking his tail, as people crack whips, and this also got on people's nerves. Then, too, some of the livestock such as sheep, pigs, or poultry, a chicken here, rooster there (including other sorts of fowl) began to be missed. For he needed real sustenance which the buns lacked.  The nourishment was a necessity for his recovery and for building his strength so he could take flight and return home. The things that went missing were nothing much at first—but it still made people feel uncomfortable. Then one day a favorite rabbit of the Princess's, called Sedrick, mysteriously disappeared, and subsequently her pony was nowhere to be seen. Then came a terrible morning when Fido had gone missing.

Fido was allowed to freely roam, moreover, he had frequently barked ever since the dragon came to the island, and for such a little puppy, he had a real loud bark. People had grown quite accustomed to the noise emanating from here (near) and yonder (far); so, when his barking suddenly ceased and was absent for a long duration, it gave cause for worry to many people, especially Stevor. Unfortunately, after an intensive search, Fido was deemed permanently gone; but I’ll let you in on a secret, the culprit was other than what you might expect.  

Now, would Longze the dragon be that heartless to eat such a small thing? If they thought long and hard, they would have arrived at a different conclusion. As it were, many of the mysterious disappearances could be attributed to one other probable person... But for now, to prolong the suspense, we won’t reveal precisely who that could be.

A boy was sent to wake the army, so that they could affect a more detailed, wide birth search for the latest missing bunch. But the army was gone too! And now the people became more terrified.

12 MONARCH DAVOS GIVES A SPEACH

Monarch Davos, seizing this chance, came out onto the terrace of the palace, and he made the people a speech. He said: "Friends—fellow citizens—I cannot disguise from myself or from you that this dragon we’ve welcomed into our midst, is a terrible menace, a voracious (insatiable, ravenous) beast, as it was foretold by the ancients. This, I’ve read it in the stars…he would be portended (presaged, foretold) ruin of Avarkan, if not appeased and then rid off."

If you haven’t guessed it already, Davos was the real culprit behind these mass disappearances; the dragon Longze had been very good and only took bare minimum sustenance; however, he still got the full blame.

The people thought of the dragon's tail and said, "Hear, hear."

Davos went on: "Something has happened to a gentle and defenseless member of our community. We don't know what has happened."

Everyone thought of the rabbit named Sedrick and groaned.

"The defenses of our country have been swallowed up," said Davos. For literally, it had happened. Devos had ceased this opportunity to rid himself of the opposing generals and portion of the army that had staunch (unwavering) loyalty to the old regime and therefore, posed certain future difficulties.  Two days prior, he had issued orders, launching a secret campaign, supposedly against an offending Dragon, to defend the perimeter of the northern sector, whereas in fact, with his magic, he’d set up traps, quicksand, that had swallowed, the entire dispatched force.

Oblivious crowd, meanwhile, shook their heads, some pointing the finger of blame on the dragon, while (grieving) many mourned the loss of the army.

"There is only one single solution to all this, only one thing to be done!" Davos’s voice swelling (in crescendo, building up), ejected next. "Could we ever forgive ourselves if by neglecting a simple precaution we lost more rabbits, more men—or even, perhaps, our navy, our constables, and our fire brigade? For I warn you that the dragon will respect nothing, especially when he’s fully grown."

 

 

(END OF PART 1)

(STAY TUNED FOR PART 2 - THE CONCLUSION)  

 

 

THE ISLAND OF THE NINE WHIRLPOOLS

(The Book of Dragons -1901- by E. Nesbit)

The dark arch that led to the witch's cave was hung with a black-and-yellow fringe of live snakes. As the Queen went in, keeping carefully in the middle of the arch, all the snakes lifted their wicked, flat heads and stared at her with their wicked, yellow eyes. You know it is not good manners to stare, even at Royalty, except of course for cats. And the snakes had been so badly brought up that they even put their tongues out at the poor lady. Nasty, thin, sharp tongues they were too.

Now, the Queen's husband was, of course, the King. And besides being a King he was an enchanter, and considered to be quite at the top of his profession, so he was very wise, and he knew that when Kings and Queens want children, the Queen always goes to see a witch. So he gave the Queen the witch's address, and the Queen called on her, though she was very frightened and did not like it at all. The witch was sitting by a fire of sticks, stirring something bubbly in a shiny copper cauldron.

"What do you want, my dear?" she said to the Queen.

"Oh, if you please," said the Queen, "I want a baby—a very nice one. We don't want any expense spared. My husband said—"

"Oh, yes," said the witch. "I know all about him. And so you want a child? Do you know it will bring you sorrow?"

"It will bring me joy first," said the Queen.

"Great sorrow," said the witch.

"Greater joy," said the Queen.

Then the witch said, "Well, have your own way. I suppose it's as much as your place is worth to go back without it?"

"The King would be very much annoyed," said the poor Queen.

"Well, well," said the witch. "What will you give me for the child?"

"Anything you ask for, and all I have," said the Queen.

 

"Then give me your gold crown."

The Queen took it off quickly.

"And your necklace of blue sapphires."

The Queen unfastened it.

"And your pearl bracelets."

The Queen unclasped them.

"And your ruby clasps."

And the Queen undid the clasps.

"Now the lilies from your breast."

The Queen gathered together the lilies.

"And the diamonds of your little bright shoe buckles."

The Queen pulled off her shoes.

Then the witch stirred the stuff that was in the cauldron, and, one by one, she threw in the gold crown and the sapphire necklace and the pearl bracelets and the ruby clasps and the diamonds of the little bright shoe buckles, and last of all she threw in the lilies.

The stuff in the cauldron boiled up in foaming flashes of yellow and blue and red and white and silver, and sent out a sweet scent, and presently the witch poured it out into a pot and set it to cool in the doorway among the snakes.

Then she said to the Queen: "Your child will have hair as golden as your crown, eyes as blue as your sapphires. The red of your rubies will lie on its lips, and its skin will be clear and pale as your pearls. Its soul will be white and sweet as your lilies, and your diamonds will be no clearer than its wits."

"Oh, thank you, thank you," said the Queen, "and when will it come?"

"You will find it when you get home."

"And won't you have something for yourself?" asked the Queen. "Any little thing you fancy—would you like a country, or a sack of jewels?"

"Nothing, thank you," said the witch. "I could make more diamonds in a day than I should wear in a year."

"Well, but do let me do some little thing for you," the Queen went on. "Aren't you tired of being a witch? Wouldn't you like to be a Duchess or a Princess, or something like that?"

"There is one thing I should rather like," said the witch, "but it's hard to get in my trade."

"Oh, tell me what," said the Queen.

"I should like some one to love me," said the witch.

Then the Queen threw her arms around the witch's neck and kissed her half a hundred times. "Why," she said, "I love you better than my life! You've given me the baby—and the baby shall love you too."

"Perhaps it will," said the witch, "and when the sorrow comes, send for me. Each of your fifty kisses will be a spell to bring me to you. Now, drink up your medicine, there's a dear, and run along home."

So, the Queen drank the stuff in the pot, which was quite cool by this time, and she went out under the fringe of snakes, and they all behaved like good Sunday-school children. Some of them even tried to drop a curtsy to her as she went by, though that is not easy when you are hanging wrong way up by your tail. But the snakes knew the Queen was friends with their mistress; so, of course, they had to do their best to be civil.

When the Queen got home, sure enough there was the baby lying in the cradle with the Royal arms blazoned on it, crying as naturally as possible. It had pink ribbons to tie up its sleeves, so the Queen saw at once it was a girl. When the King knew this, he tore his black hair with fury.

"Oh, you are silly, silly Queen!" he said. "Why didn't I marry a clever lady? Did you think I went to all the trouble and expense of sending you to a witch to get a girl? You knew well enough it was a boy I wanted—a boy, an heir, a Prince—to learn all my magic and my enchantments, and to rule the kingdom after me. I'll bet a crown—my crown," he said, "you never even thought to tell the witch what kind you wanted! Did you now?"

And the Queen hung her head and had to confess that she had only asked for a child.

"Very well, madam," said the King, "very well—have your own way. And make the most of your daughter, while she is a child."

The Queen did. All the years of her life had never held half so much happiness as now lived in each of the moments when she held her little baby in her arms. And the years went on, and the King grew more and more clever at magic, and more and more disagreeable at home, and the Princess grew more beautiful and dearer every day she lived.

The Queen and the Princess were feeding the goldfish in the courtyard fountains with crumbs of the Princess's eighteenth birthday cake, when the King came into the courtyard, looking as black as thunder, with his black raven hopping after him. He shook his fist at his family, as indeed he generally did whenever he met them, for he was not a King with pretty home manners.

The raven sat down on the edge of the marble basin and tried to peck the goldfish. It was all he could do to show that he was in the same temper as his master.

"A girl indeed!" said the King angrily. "I wonder you can dare to look me in the face, when you remember how your silliness has spoiled everything."

"You oughtn't to speak to my mother like that," said the Princess. She was eighteen, and it came to her suddenly and all in a moment that she was a grown-up, so she spoke out.

The King could not utter a word for several minutes. He was too angry. But the Queen said, "My dear child, don't interfere," quite crossly, for she was frightened.

And to her husband she said, "My dear, why do you go on worrying about it? Our daughter is not a boy, it is true—but she may marry a clever man who could rule your kingdom after you, and learn as much magic as ever you cared to teach him."

Then the King found his tongue.

"If she does marry," he said, slowly, "her husband will have to be a very clever man—oh, yes, very clever indeed! And he will have to know a very great deal more magic than I shall ever care to teach him."

The Queen knew at once by the King's tone that he was going to be disagreeable.

"Ah," she said, "don't punish the child because she loves her mother."

"I'm not going to punish her for that," said he. "I'm only going to teach her to respect her father."

And without another word he went off to his laboratory and worked all night, boiling different-colored things in crucibles, and copying charms in curious twisted letters from old brown books with mold stains on their yellowy pages.

The next day his plan was all arranged. He took the poor Princess to the Lone Tower, which stands on an island in the sea, a thousand miles from everywhere. He gave her a dowry, and settled a handsome income on her. He engaged a competent dragon to look after her, and also a respectable griffin whose birth and upbringing he knew all about. And he said: "Here you shall stay, my dear, respectful daughter, till the clever man comes to marry you. He'll have to be clever enough to sail a ship through the Nine Whirlpools that spin around the island, and to kill the dragon and the griffin. Till he comes you'll never get any older or any wiser. No doubt he will soon come. You can employ yourself in embroidering your wedding gown. I wish you joy, my dutiful child."

And his carriage, drawn by live thunderbolts (thunder travels very fast), rose in the air and disappeared, and the poor Princess was left, with the dragon and the griffin, on the Island of the Nine Whirlpools.

The Queen, left at home, cried for a day and a night, and then she remembered the witch and called to her. And the witch came, and the Queen told her all.

"For the sake of the twice twenty-five kisses you gave me," said the witch, "I will help you. But it is the last thing I can do, and it is not much. Your daughter is under a spell, and I can take you to her. But, if I do, you will have to be turned to stone, and to stay so till the spell is taken off the child."

"I would be a stone for a thousand years," said the poor Queen, "if at the end of them I could see my dear again."

So, the witch took the Queen in a carriage drawn by live sunbeams (which travel more quickly than anything else in the world, and much quicker than thunder), and so away and away to the Lone Tower on the Island of the Nine Whirlpools. And there was the Princess sitting on the floor in the best room of the Lone Tower, crying as if her heart would break, and the dragon and the griffin were sitting primly on each side of her.

"Oh, Mother, Mother, Mother," she cried, and hung around the Queen's neck as if she would never let go.

"Now," said the witch, when they had all cried as much as was good for them, "I can do one or two other little things for you. Time shall not make the Princess sad. All days will be like one day till her deliverer comes. And you and I, dear Queen, will sit in stone at the gate of the tower. In doing this for you I lose all my witch's powers, and when I say the spell that changes you to stone, I shall change with you, and if ever we come out of the stone, I shall be a witch no more, but only a happy old woman."

Then the three kissed one another again and again, and the witch said the spell, and on each side of the door there was now a stone lady. One of them had a stone crown on its head and a stone scepter in its hand; but the other held a stone tablet with words on it, which the griffin and the dragon could not read, though they had both had a very good education.

And now all days seemed like one day to the Princess, and the next day always seemed the day when her mother would come out of the stone and kiss her again. And the years went slowly by. The wicked King died, and some one else took his kingdom, and many things were changed in the world; but the island did not change, nor the Nine Whirlpools, nor the griffin, nor the dragon, nor the two stone ladies. And all the time, from the very first, the day of the Princess's deliverance was coming, creeping nearer, and nearer, and nearer. But no one saw it coming except the Princess, and she only in dreams. And the years went by in tens and in hundreds, and still the Nine Whirlpools spun around, roaring in triumph the story of many a good ship that had gone down in their swirl, bearing with it some Prince who had tried to win the Princess and her dowry.

And the great sea knew all the other stories of the Princes who had come from very far, and had seen the whirlpools, and had shaken their wise young heads and said: "'Bout ship!" and gone discreetly home to their nice, safe, comfortable kingdoms.

But no one told the story of the deliverer who was to come. And the years went by.

Now, after more scores of years than you would like to add up on your slate, a certain sailor-boy sailed on the high seas with his uncle, who was a skilled skipper. And the boy could reef a sail and coil a rope and keep the ship's nose steady before the wind. And he was as good a boy as you would find in a month of Sundays, and worthy to be a Prince.

Now there is Something which is wiser than all the world—and it knows when people are worthy to be Princes. And this Something came from the farther side of the seventh world and whispered in the boy's ear.

And the boy heard, though he did not know he heard, and he looked out over the black sea with the white foam-horses galloping over it, and far away he saw a light. And he said to the skipper, his uncle: "What light is that?"

Then the skipper said: "All good things defend you, Nigel, from sailing near that light. It is not mentioned in all charts; but it is marked in the old chart I steer by, which was my father's father's before me, and his father's father's before him. It is the light that shines from the Lone Tower that stands above the Nine Whirlpools. And when my father's father was young, he heard from the very old man, his great-great-grandfather, that in that tower an enchanted Princess, fairer than the day, waits to be delivered. But there is no deliverance, so never steer that way; and think no more of the Princess, for that is only an idle tale. But the whirlpools are quite real."

So, of course, from that day Nigel thought of nothing else. And as he sailed hither and thither upon the high seas he saw from time to time the light that shone out to sea across the wild swirl of the Nine Whirlpools. And one night, when the ship was at anchor and the skipper asleep in his bunk, Nigel launched the ship's boat and steered alone over the dark sea towards the light. He dared not go very near till daylight should show him what, indeed, were the whirlpools he had to dread.

But when the dawn came, he saw the Lone Tower standing dark against the pink and primrose of the East, and about its base the sullen swirl of black water, and he heard the wonderful roar of it. So he hung off and on, all that day and for six days besides. And when he had watched seven days he knew something. For you are certain to know something if you give for seven days your whole thought to it, even though it be only the first declension, or the nine-times table, or the dates of the Norman Kings.

What he knew was this: that for five minutes out of the 1,440 minutes that make up a day the whirlpools slipped into silence, while the tide went down and left the yellow sand bare. And every day this happened, but every day it was five minutes earlier than it had been the day before. He made sure of this by the ship's chronometer, which he had thoughtfully brought with him.

So, on the eighth day, at five minutes before noon, Nigel got ready. And when the whirlpools suddenly stopped whirling and the tide sank, like water in a basin that has a hole in it, he stuck to his oars and put his back into his stroke, and presently beached the boat on the yellow sand. Then he dragged it into a cave and sat down to wait.

By five minutes and one second past noon, the whirlpools were black and busy again, and Nigel peeped out of his cave. And on the rocky ledge overhanging the sea he saw a Princess as beautiful as the day, with golden hair and a green gown—and he went out to meet her.

"I've come to save you," he said. "How darling and beautiful you are!"

"You are very good, and very clever, and very dear," said the Princess, smiling and giving him both her hands.

He shut a little kiss in each hand before he let them go.

"So now, when the tide is low again, I will take you away in my boat," he said.

"But what about the dragon and the griffin?" asked the Princess.

"Dear me," said Nigel. "I didn't know about them. I suppose I can kill them?"

"Don't be a silly boy," said the Princess, pretending to be very grown up, for, though she had been on the island time only knows how many years, she was just eighteen, and she still liked pretending. "You haven't a sword, or a shield, or anything!"

"Well, don't the beasts ever go to sleep?"

"Why, yes," said the Princess, "but only once in twenty-four hours, and then the dragon is turned to stone. But the griffin has dreams. The griffin sleeps at teatime every day, but the dragon sleeps every day for five minutes, and every day it is three minutes later than it was the day before."

"What time does he sleep today?" asked Nigel.

"At eleven," said the Princess.

"Ah," said Nigel, "can you do sums?"

"No," said the Princess sadly. "I was never good at them."

"Then I must," said Nigel. "I can, but it's slow work, and it makes me very unhappy. It'll take me days and days."

"Don't begin yet," said the Princess. "You'll have plenty of time to be unhappy when I'm not with you. Tell me all about yourself."

So, he did. And then she told him all about herself.

"I know I've been here a long time," she said, "but I don't know what Time is. And I am very busy sewing silk flowers on a golden gown for my wedding day. And the griffin does the housework—his wings are so convenient and feathery for sweeping and dusting. And the dragon does the cooking—he's hot inside, so, of course, it's no trouble to him; and though I don't know what Time is I'm sure it's time for my wedding day, because my golden gown only wants one more white daisy on the sleeve, and a lily on the bosom of it, and then it will be ready."

Just then they heard a dry, rustling clatter on the rocks above them and a snorting sound. "It's the dragon," said the Princess hurriedly. "Good-bye. Be a good boy, and get your sum done." And she ran away and left him to his arithmetic.

Now, the sum was this: "If the whirlpools stop and the tide goes down once in every twenty-four hours, and they do it five minutes earlier every twenty-four hours, and if the dragon sleeps every day, and he does it three minutes later every day, in how many days and at what time in the day will the tide go down three minutes before the dragon falls asleep?"

It is quite a simple sum, as you see: You could do it in a minute because you have been to a good school and have taken pains with your lessons; but it was quite otherwise with poor Nigel. He sat down to work out his sum with a piece of chalk on a smooth stone. He tried it by practice and the unitary method, by multiplication, and by rule-of-three-and-three-quarters. He tried it by decimals and by compound interest. He tried it by square root and by cube root. He tried it by addition, simple and otherwise, and he tried it by mixed examples in vulgar fractions. But it was all of no use. Then he tried to do the sum by algebra, by simple and by quadratic equations, by trigonometry, by logarithms, and by conic sections. But it would not do. He got an answer every time, it is true, but it was always a different one, and he could not feel sure which answer was right.

And just as he was feeling how much more important than anything else it is to be able to do your sums, the Princess came back. And now it was getting dark.

"Why, you've been seven hours over that sum," she said, "and you haven't done it yet. Look here, this is what is written on the tablet of the statue by the lower gate. It has figures in it. Perhaps it is the answer to the sum."

She held out to him a big white magnolia leaf. And she had scratched on it with the pin of her pearl brooch, and it had turned brown where she had scratched it, as magnolia leaves will do. Nigel read:

AFTER NINE DAYS

T ii. 24.

D ii. 27 Ans.

P.S.—And the griffin is artificial. R.

He clapped his hands softly.

"Dear Princess," he said, "I know that's the right answer. It says R too, you see. But I'll just prove it." So he hastily worked the sum backward in decimals and equations and conic sections, and all the rules he could think of. And it came right every time.

"So now we must wait," said he. And they waited.

And every day the Princess came to see Nigel and brought him food cooked by the dragon, and he lived in his cave, and talked to her when she was there, and thought about her when she was not, and they were both as happy as the longest day in summer. Then at last came The Day. Nigel and the Princess laid their plans.

"You're sure he won't hurt you, my only treasure?" said Nigel.

"Quite," said the Princess. "I only wish I were half as sure that he wouldn't hurt you."

"My Princess," he said tenderly, "two great powers are on our side: the power of Love and the power of Arithmetic. Those two are stronger than anything else in the world."

So, when the tide began to go down, Nigel and the Princess ran out on to the sands, and there, in full sight of the terrace where the dragon kept watch, Nigel took his Princess in his arms and kissed her.

The griffin was busy sweeping the stairs of the Lone Tower, but the dragon saw, and he gave a cry of rage—and it was like twenty engines all letting off steam at the top of their voices inside Cannon Street Station.

And the two lovers stood looking up at the dragon. He was dreadful to look at. His head was white with age—and his beard had grown so long that he caught his claws in it as he walked. His wings were white with the salt that had settled on them from the spray of the sea. His tail was long and thick and jointed and white, and had little legs to it, any number of them—far too many—so that it looked like a very large fat silkworm; and his claws were as long as lessons and as sharp as bayonets.

"Good-bye, love!" cried Nigel, and ran out across the yellow sand toward the sea. He had one end of a cord tied to his arm.

The dragon was clambering down the face of the cliff, and next moment he was crawling and writhing and sprawling and wriggling across the beach after Nigel, making great holes in the sand with his heavy feet—and the very end of his tail, where there were no legs, made, as it dragged, a mark in the sand such as you make when you launch a boat; and he breathed fire till the wet sand hissed again, and the water of the little rock pools got quite frightened, and all went off in steam.

Still Nigel held on and the dragon after him. The Princess could see nothing for the steam, and she stood crying bitterly, but still holding on tight with her right hand to the other end of the cord that Nigel had told her to hold; while with her left she held the ship's chronometer, and looked at it through her tears as he had bidden her look, so as to know when to pull the rope.

On went Nigel over the sand, and on went the dragon after him. And the tide was low, and sleepy little waves lapped the sand's edge.

Now at the lip of the water, Nigel paused and looked back, and the dragon made a bound, beginning a scream of rage that was like all the engines of all the railways in England. But it never uttered the second half of that scream, for now it knew suddenly that it was sleepy—it turned to hurry back to dry land, because sleeping near whirlpools is so unsafe. But before it reached the shore sleep caught it and turned it to stone. Nigel, seeing this, ran shoreward for his life—and the tide began to flow in, and the time of the whirlpools' sleep was nearly over, and he stumbled and he waded and he swam, and the Princess pulled for dear life at the cord in her hand, and pulled him up on to the dry shelf of rock just as the great sea dashed in and made itself once more into the girdle of Nine Whirlpools all around the island.

But the dragon was asleep under the whirlpools, and when he woke up from being asleep, he found he was drowned, so there was an end of him.

"Now, there's only the griffin," said Nigel. And the Princess said: "Yes—only—" And she kissed Nigel and went back to sew the last leaf of the last lily on the bosom of her wedding gown. She thought and thought of what was written on the stone about the griffin being artificial—and next day she said to Nigel: "You know a griffin is half a lion and half an eagle, and the other two halves when they've joined make the leo-griff. But I've never seen him. Yet I have an idea."

So, they talked it over and arranged everything.

When the griffin fell asleep that afternoon at teatime, Nigel went softly behind him and trod on his tail, and at the same time the Princess cried: "Look out! There's a lion behind you."

And the griffin, waking suddenly from his dreams, twisted his large neck around to look for the lion, saw a lion's flank, and fastened its eagle beak in it. For the griffin had been artificially made by the King-enchanter, and the two halves had never really got used to each other. So now the eagle half of the griffin, who was still rather sleepy, believed that it was fighting a lion, and the lion part, being half asleep, thought it was fighting an eagle, and the whole griffin in its deep drowsiness hadn't the sense to pull itself together and remember what it was made of. So the griffin rolled over and over, one end of it fighting with the other, till the eagle end pecked the lion end to death, and the lion end tore the eagle end with its claws till it died. And so the griffin that was made of a lion and an eagle perished, exactly as if it had been made of Kilkenny cats.

"Poor griffin," said the Princess, "it was very good at the housework. I always liked it better than the dragon: It wasn't so hot-tempered."

At that moment there was a soft, silky rush behind the Princess, and there was her mother, the Queen, who had slipped out of the stone statue at the moment the griffin was dead and now came hurrying to take her dear daughter in her arms. The witch was clambering slowly off her pedestal. She was a little stiff from standing still so long.

When they had all explained everything over and over to each other as many times as was good for them, the witch said: "Well, but what about the whirlpools?"

And Nigel said he didn't know. Then the witch said: "I'm not a witch anymore. I'm only a happy old woman, but I know some things still. Those whirlpools were made by the enchanter-King's dropping nine drops of his blood into the sea. And his blood was so wicked that the sea has been trying ever since to get rid of it, and that made the whirlpools. Now you've only got to go out at low tide."

So, Nigel understood and went out at low tide, and found in the sandy hollow left by the first whirlpool a great red ruby. That was the first drop of the wicked King's blood. The next day Nigel found another, and next day another, and so on till the ninth day, and then the sea was as smooth as glass.

The nine rubies were used afterwards in agriculture. You had only to throw them out into a field if you wanted it plowed. Then the whole surface of the land turned itself over in its anxiety to get rid of something so wicked, and in the morning the field was found to be plowed as thoroughly as any young man at Oxford. So the wicked King did some good after all.

When the sea was smooth, ships came from far and wide, bringing people to hear the wonderful story. And a beautiful palace was built, and the Princess was married to Nigel in her gold dress, and they all lived happily as long as was good for them.

The dragon still lies, a stone dragon on the sand, and at low tide the little children play around him and over him.

But the pieces that were left of the griffin were buried under the herb-bed in the palace garden, because it had been so good at housework, and it wasn't its fault that it had been made so badly and put to such poor work as guarding a lady from her lover.

I have no doubt that you will wish to know what the Princess lived on during the long years when the dragon did the cooking. My dear, she lived on her income—and that is a thing that a great many people would like to be able to do.

THE END.