"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 then with your wooden legs 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 my friend Ladder, and nimble, bag and baggage, goes to keep company with friend Fox.
And "Quack, quack, quack," Drakestail is off again, singing and spruce as before. A little further he meets his sweetheart, my friend River, wandering quietly in the sunshine.
"Thou, my cherub," says she, "whither so lonesome, with arching tail, on this muddy road?"
"I am going to the king, you know, 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 you who sleep while you walk will soon get tired. Make yourself quite small, get into my throat—go into my gizzard, and I will carry you."
"Ah! happy thought!" says my friend River.