immensely, and he had been up from an early hour, preparing for
his first public appearance with as much heartiness as if the
years had run backwards, and he had been again a little
dragonlet, playing with his sisters on the floor of their
mother's cave, at the game of saints-and-dragons, in which the
dragon was bound to win.

A low muttering, mingled with snorts, now made itself heard;
rising to a bellowing roar that seemed to fill the plain. Then a
cloud of smoke obscured the mouth of the cave, and out of the
midst of it the dragon himself, shining, sea-blue, magnificent,
pranced splendidly forth; and everybody said, "Oo-oo-oo!" as if
he had been a mighty rocket! His scales were glittering,
his long spiky tail lashed his sides, his claws tore up the turf
and sent it flying high over his back, and smoke and fire
incessantly jetted from his angry nostrils. "Oh, well done,
dragon!" cried the Boy, excitedly. "Didn't think he had it in
him!" he added to himself.

St. George lowered his spear, bent his head, dug his heels into
his horse's sides, and came thundering over the turf. The dragon
charged with a roar and a squeal,--a great blue whirling
combination of coils and snorts and clashing jaws and spikes and
fire.

"Missed!" yelled the crowd. There was a moment's entanglement of
golden armour and blue-green coils, and spiky tail, and then the
great horse, tearing at his bit, carried the Saint, his spear
swung high in the air, almost up to the mouth of the cave.