Kisington Town - Abbie Farwell Brown

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shall have a little cage of gold and shall live with the Dragon for his neighbor. A quaint pair they, Arthur! I thank you for them. But where is my daughter, and why does she delay?"

      With horror Arthur heard these words. He had forgotten the Princess. Alas! The glass had lost its power. How then was he to magic her and make her small, as he had hoped to do? How was he to tame this terrible big girl and make her a nice little wife? Arthur wished that he had never set out to be a hero; he awaited the approach of his bride with terror far greater than he had felt in the Dragon's glen.

      Presently the heralds came back to the King, and their faces were very grave. "Your Majesty," they said, "we cannot bring the Princess. She has gone; she has fled from the Kingdom with the first royal coachman, who was a handsome young giant after her own heart. Even now they must be far beyond the border of the neighboring Kingdom. She was heard to say that she would have no dwarf for a husband, however great a hero he might be. And when she knew what had happened to the Dragon of Hushby, she was afraid."

      There was silence in the banquet hall. Then the King struck a blow on the table with his fist that made the Dragon hop and hiss nervously, while Oscar fell over and bumped his head on a salt cellar. "Well," said the King, "so be it! She was an ill-tempered jade, and I could do nothing with her. You are well rid of her, brave Arthur. But how can I amend this insult to your dignity? Ask of me whatever you choose, and it will not be enough."

      Now, instead of looking sad, Arthur's face was shining with joy at his narrow escape. "Your Majesty," he said, "I ask no amend. The lady had a right to her choice, and I hope she may have a giant happiness. Since this royal marriage may not be for me, I must look elsewhere. But I have had enough of adventure and of magic, and I shall now retire into private life."

      "Some reward you must have, nevertheless," said the King. "You shall retire nobly. Arise, Sir Arthur! I make you Knight of the Dragon, Lord of the Hushby Marches, and Earl of Kisington. Moreover, whomsoever and wheresoever you choose to wed, I myself will attend the nuptials and will bestow upon the bride a countess's crown of diamonds. Long live the hero of Hushby and Earl of Kisington!"

      "Long live the hero of Hushby and Earl of Kisington!" echoed all the guests. The Dragon hissed spitefully and lashed out with his tail, but no one paid any attention to him. Oscar, sulking with elbows on knees, groaned squeakily. But no one paid any attention to him either.

      Everybody was thinking of Arthur, and how wonderfully he had become a hero. But Arthur himself was thinking of little Margot at the inn, and how sweet her face would look under the coronet of a countess. And Arthur grinned happily.

       Table of Contents

      You must not suppose that Harold read this whole story to the besieging King without pause. When he reached the end of the first part of the tale, Harold closed the red-and-gold volume and looked up.

      "Go on!" urged the Red King. "Why do you stop, boy?"

      "It is the end of the volume," said Harold.

      Red Rex frowned. "Surely, not the end of the tale!" he cried. "Why, you have stopped short in the middle! That Oscar was up to some trick, I know. I want to hear what happened next."

      "I am sorry, Your Majesty," repeated Harold. "It is the end of the volume. The rest of the tale is told in another book."

      The Red King's eyes blazed with anger. "Why did you not bring the other book with you?" he roared.

      "I was not sure that Your Majesty would like the tale," said Harold. "Besides, they will allow one to take from the library but one book at a time from a set of volumes."

      "Then you must return and get the next volume immediately," commanded Red Rex. "I must know what happened to Arthur in his quest of the Dragon. Take the flag of truce and go back to Kisington; and let it not be long ere you return!"

      "I am sorry, Your Majesty," said Harold, "but it is too late to take out another book to-day. The rules of the library are very strict."

      "Now, did any one ever hear anything so absurd as this!" thundered the Red King, stamping like a bad-tempered child. "What is a mere library, forsooth, to have rules which I may not break?"

      "You have rules for your army, do you not?" suggested Harold.

      "I should say, verily!" growled Red Rex; "strict, stern rules."

      "Well, a library is an army of books," answered Harold; "a peaceful army intended to help people and to make them happy; not to kill them. Our noble Librarian, who is general of a mighty army of books, must have rules as stern and strict to keep his army useful and efficient. If Your Majesty desires the rest of the tale you must wait until to-morrow."

      "I will destroy the whole town first!" roared the angry King.

      "Then you will never learn the end of the tale," retorted Harold.

      It looked as if Harold were in great danger, in spite of the flag of truce. Red Rex stormed and ranted, and his soldiers stood ready with their weapons to do whatever he should bid them. But after a while the warrior's wrath somewhat calmed itself, and shortly he began to chuckle noisily.

      "True!" he said. "If I destroy the library I shall not know the end of that tale. That would be a calamity! Well, it is now too late to resume the siege to-day. I may as well continue the truce until to-morrow. But see that you return early in the morning, with the rest of the tale."

      Once more Harold shook his head. "I must go to Church to-morrow morning," he replied. "It is Sunday, you know. Surely, you do not fight on Sundays, Your Majesty?"

      The Red King looked at him sideways. "I had forgotten Sunday," he said. "I have mislaid my calendar. Now, you remind me,--no, I suppose not. No, I do not fight on Sundays."

      "I thought not!" said Harold, relieved. "It would not be quite knightly, would it? I will return to-morrow afternoon, as soon as I have had my dinner; and then we will go on with the story of the Dragon of Hushby. Good day, Your Majesty!"

      "Good day!" growled Red Rex, watching him march away between the files of soldiers. "Youngster!" he called after the boy, "be sure you bring back the right volume."

      Harold waved his hand in assent.

      Now, when Harold told the Librarian and the other Leading Citizens what he had done, they were greatly pleased; for they saw that their city was safe for at least eighteen hours, while their mounted messenger went speeding to King Victor. Harold's chums Robert and Richard were so excited they could not sleep that night. Harold's mother was as proud as a peacock when he told the story to her; though it was with some dread that she looked forward to his return on the morrow into the camp of the fierce besieger. But Harold said:--

      "I shall be quite safe, Mother. Never fear! Red Rex is too much interested in my story to hurt me. When he forgets war he is a different man. He is almost pleasant, Mother!"

      "What a stupid King he must be to choose war for his pleasure!" said the mother. "But suppose he cannot wait for to-morrow afternoon? Suppose he should decide to take the city and win the library for himself, so that he can read all the books at his leisure. What then?

      "Mother," said Harold, "I believe Red Rex has no joy in reading for himself; no more than you have,--though he may not have your excuse."

      "La la!" cried the mother. "What a King is that who has no key to the treasury of books! You are richer than he, my son. With all his armies, you are more powerful than he, my dear son!"

      On the Sunday, after dinner, Harold's friends escorted him to the gate; and as before he went to the Red King under the flag of truce. In his hand he bore the second volume of red-and-gold. Red Rex received him sulkily, yet with a certain eagerness.

      "Well, boy, have you brought the book?" he asked. "I have been thinking of that tale all the night long, all this morning long. Come, let us hear what happened next to Arthur

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