"Can you tell me who lives here?" asked King Grumbelo, politely; for, as every one knows, it is always wise to be polite to a dragon however small he may be.
"Oh, yes," answered the dragon, with a wave of his tail towards the house and the garden; "I live here."
"Nonsense!" said the King, forgetting in his surprise to be polite. "You could not possibly live in so small a house as that!"
"If you want to know who lives inside the house you should say so," answered the dragon, in an injured tone. "It is n't likely that a well-bred dragon would live inside anything. You should be more careful in the way you express yourself."
"Well, well," said the King, impatiently, "perhaps you can tell me to whom the house belongs?"
"No, I can't," answered the dragon, with a smile; "because it does n't belong to anybody, you see. It is here because it is wanted, and when it is n't wanted any longer it will cease to be here."
"What a curious house!" exclaimed the King.
"Curious? Not at all!" said the dragon, looking injured again. "It would be much more curious if it were to remain here when it was n't wanted. You should n't make needless remarks."
If King Grumbelo had not been so anxious to find out who did live inside the house he would certainly have ridden away, there and then; but the more he looked at the beautiful garden and the charming little dwelling of rose leaves, the more he longed for an answer to his question. So he kept his temper with difficulty, and turned once more to the aggravating dragon.
"Does anybody live inside the house?" he asked.