"He! he! he!" sniggered the Griffin, "if my scales cannot crush the scales of George's blatant armour may I live to bite my own nails. Why, I will squash him as flat as an empty meat tin."
"Swank," murmured St. George, nonchalantly.
"The reason of the contest," continued the Lion in a loud voice, as if he were reading from some document which he had committed to memory, "is owing to a ridiculous assertion made by the Griffin. The Griffin claims to be the older established of the two. St. George laughs at this claim derisively. The Griffin sorely provoked to it, unfortunately fell back upon dates, and his memory being very weak he hoped to conceal his shakiness about dates, with phrases. He therefore declared that Temple Bar where he now stands, once possessed two gates which have since been removed. Nevertheless the Griffin contends that he is still there and Temple Bar is still there; in this he is undoubtedly right; yet, not content with this, he further asserts that this is the whole cause and origin of the phrase, 'Two to one, Bar one.' St. George here present, who knows something about horses, immediately called him a—well, it is not a nice word," broke off the Lion in parenthesis, "anyway St. George intimated that the truth was not in the Griffin. Hence a trial by combat. Are you ready?" roared the Lion; "then commence."
From his quite comfortable seat between the Lion's paws, Ridgwell now watched the strangest combat he would ever be likely to witness.
The Griffin advanced towards St. George with about as much grace as a dancing camel would possess. His excessive angularity was accentuated by his extraordinary clumsiness. St. George did not appear at all disconcerted by the flapping of the Griffin's wings, but managed to avoid his clumsy clutches with great skill. Had St. George not slipped upon a piece of orange-peel, inadvertently left upon the floor of the arena, it is doubtful if the Griffin would ever have touched him. As St. George slipped, the Griffin hugged him tightly. Ridgwell held his breath, for it almost seemed as if St. George's armour must indeed crumple up.
"Meat tins," shrieked the Griffin.
"Break away," commanded the Lion.
"Here, I say," snorted the Griffin, "I'd only just got him."
"Break away," ordered the Lion, "no hugging."
The Griffin retired to his corner pouting.