"Time!" yelled everybody excitedly; and the dragon, leaving off
his ramping, sat up on end, and began to leap from one side to
the other with huge ungainly bounds, whooping like a Red Indian.
This naturally disconcerted the horse, who swerved violently, the
Saint only just saving himself by the mane; and as they shot past
the dragon delivered a vicious snap at the horse's tail
which sent the poor beast careering madly far over the Downs, so
that the language of the Saint, who had lost a stirrup, was
fortunately inaudible to the general assemblage.

Round Two evoked audible evidence of friendly feeling towards the
dragon. The spectators were not slow to appreciate a combatant
who could hold his own so well and clearly wanted to show good
sport, and many encouraging remarks reached the ears of our
friend as he strutted to and fro, his chest thrust out and his
tail in the air, hugely enjoying his new popularity.

St. George had dismounted and was tightening his girths, and
telling his horse, with quite an Oriental flow of imagery,
exactly what he thought of him, and his relations, and his
conduct on the present occasion; so the Boy made his way down to
the Saint's end of the line, and held his spear for him.

"It's been a jolly fight, St. George!" he said with a sigh.
"Can't you let it last a bit longer?"

"Well, I think I'd better not," replied the Saint. "The fact is,
your simple-minded old friend's getting conceited, now they've
begun cheering him, and he'll forget all about the arrangement