‘Only that I am afraid that if I throw it you will never see another dawn. You don’t know how strong I am!’
‘Oh, never mind that be quick and throw.’
‘If you are really in earnest, let us go and feast for three days: that will at any rate give you three extra days of life.’
Stan spoke so calmly that this time the dragon began to get a little frightened, though he did not quite believe that things would be as bad as Stan said.
They returned to the house, took all the food that could be found in the old mother’s larder, and carried it back to the place where the club was lying. Then Stan seated himself on the sack of provisions, and remained quietly watching the setting moon.
‘What are you doing?’ asked the dragon.
‘Waiting till the moon gets out of my way.’
‘What do you mean? I don’t understand.’
‘Don’t you see that the moon is exactly in my way? But of course, if you like, I will throw the club into the moon.’
At these words the dragon grew uncomfortable for the second time.