enemy of the human race, you see!"

"Haven't got an enemy in the world," said the dragon, cheerfully.

Too lazy to make 'em, to begin with. And if I DO read other
fellows my poetry, I'm always ready to listen to theirs!"

"Oh, dear!" cried the boy, "I wish you'd try and grasp the
situation properly. When the other people find you out, they'll
come after you with spears and swords and all sorts of things.
You'll have to be exterminated, according to their way of
looking at it! You're a scourge, and a pest, and a baneful
monster!"

"Not a word of truth in it," said the dragon, wagging his head
solemnly. "Character'll bear the strictest investigation. And
now, there's a little sonnet-thing I was working on when you
appeared on the scene--"

"Oh, if you WON'T be sensible," cried the Boy, getting up,
"I'm going off home. No, I can't stop for sonnets; my mother's
sitting up. I'll look you up to-morrow, sometime or other, and
do for goodness' sake try and realize that you're a pestilential
scourge, or you'll find yourself in a most awful fix. Good-
night!"

The Boy found it an easy matter to set the mind of his parents'
at ease about his new friend. They had always left that branch
to him, and they took his word without a murmur. The shepherd
was formally introduced and many compliments and kind