"Why?" said Harry.
"There's nothing to stop for. The raisins are eaten, the brandy is burnt out—"
"No, it's not," said Harry.
"Well, almost. It would be better if it were quite out. Now come. It's dangerous for a boy like you to be alone with the Snap-Dragons to-night."
"Fiddle-sticks!" said Harry.
"Go your own way, then!" said the hot-tempered gentleman; and he bounced out of the room, and Harry was left alone.
Dancing With the Dragons.
He crept up to the table, where one little pale blue flame flickered in the snap-dragon dish.
"What a pity it should go out!" said Harry. At this moment the brandy-bottle on the sideboard caught his eye.
"Just a little more," muttered Harry to himself; and he uncorked the bottle, and poured a little brandy on to the flame.