“Ladder, ladder, come out to the wall,
Drakestail does not wish to be broth at all,”
he cried. So the ladder came out and leaned against the wall, and Drakestail climbed over in safety. But the king’s cook saw Drakestail and set out after him. He caught poor Drakestail and clapped him into the broth pot, and hung him over the fire.
“River, my sweetheart, put out this hot fire,
The flames that would cook me rise higher and higher,”
cried Drakestail. So the river put out the fire with a great noise and sputtering, which the king heard. And the king came running to the kitchen.
“Good morning to you, King,” said Drakestail, hopping out of the broth pot, and making a very low bow, “are you through with my money, which you have kept for a year and a day?”
“That I am, Drakestail,” said the king. “You shall have it at once.”
So the king gave Drakestail the money that he owed him, and Drakestail waddled home again to tell of all his travels.