He had not gone far when he met friend Fox, on his rounds that way.
"Good-morning, neighbor," says the friend; "where are you off to so early?"
"I am going to the king for what he owes me."
"Oh! take me with thee!"
Drakestail said to himself: "One can't have too many friends." Aloud says he, "I will, but going on all fours you will soon be tired. Make yourself quite small, get into my throat—go into my gizzard, and I will carry you."
"Happy thought!" says friend Fox.
He takes bag and baggage, and, presto! is gone like a letter into the post.
And Drakestail is off again, all spruce and fresh, still singing: "Quack, quack, quack, when shall I have my money back?"
He had not gone far when he met his lady friend, Ladder, leaning on her wall.
"Good-morning, my duckling," says the lady friend, "whither away so bold?"