An’ he sat down wid her several hours, an’ she says, ‘Now, my deah little boy, my time is come when I’m a-goin’ to be worried, an’ you’ll better go.’
An’ he says, ‘No,’ he says, ‘I can master it, an’ I won’t go.’
She begged an’ prayed an him as ever she could to get him away, but he wouldn’t go. An’ he could heah it comin’ far enough, roarin’ an’ doin’. An’ dis dragin come spitting fire, wid a tongue like a gret speart: an’ you could heah [[207]]it roarin’ fur milts; an’ dis place wheah de king’s darter wur staked down wuz his beat wheah he used to come. And when it comed, de little boy hit dis gut about his face tell he wuz dead, but de fiery dragin bited his front finger affer him. Den de little boy cut de fiery dragin’s tongue out, an’ he says to de young lady, ‘I’ve done all dat I can, I mus’ leave you.’ An’ you’ah shuah she wuz sorry when he hed to leave her, an’ she tied a dimant ring into his hair, an’ said good-bye to him.
Now den, bime bye, de ole king comed up to de werry place where his darter wuz staked by de hair of her head, ‘mentin’ an’ doin’, an’ espectin’ to see not a bit of his darter, but de prents of de place where she wuz. An’ he wuz disprised, an’ he says to his darter, ‘How come you seft?’
‘Why, deah wuz a little boy comed heah an’ sef me, daddy.’
Den he untied her, an’ took’d her home to de palast, for you’ah shuah he wor glad, when his temper comed to him agin. Well, he put it into all de papers to want to know who seft dis gal, an’ ef de right man comed he wur to marry her, an’ have his kingdom an’ all his destate. Well, deah wuz gentlemen comed fun all an’ all parts of England, wid deir front fingers cut aff, an’ all an’ all kinds of tongues—foreign tongues, an’ beastes’ tongues, an’ wile animals’ tongues. Dey cut all sorts of tongues out, an’ dey went about shootin’ tings a-purpose, but dey never could find a dragin to shoot. Deah wuz genlemen comin’ every other day wid tongues an’ dimant rings; but when dey showed deir tongues, it warn’t de right one, an’ dey got turn’t aff.
An’ dis little ragged boy comed up a time or two werry desolated like; an’ she had an eye on him, an’ she looked at dis boy, tell her father got werry angry an’ turn’t dis boy out.
‘Daddy,’ she says, ‘I’ve got a knowledge to dat boy.’
You may say deah wuz all kinds of kings’ sons comin’ up showin’ deir parcels; an’ arter a time or two dis boy comed up agin dressed a bit better.
An’ de ole king says, ‘I see you’ve got an eye on dis boy. An’ ef it is to be him, it has to be him.’