Grampa’s whiskers had already thawed out and the heat from the fire-breathing monster was so comforting that they almost forgot their fear. The dragon, on her part, seemed more curious than angry.
“Well, I’ll be snowballed!” she snorted, wagging her head from side to side. “How did you get here?”
“It’s a long strange story,” sighed Grampa, lowering his gun and holding his hands toward the waves of heat that blew from the dragon’s nostrils.
“We fell, swam, sailed and exploded,” crowed Bill, flapping his wings over the dragon’s head.
“Well, before you melt, would you mind telling me why you came at all?” asked Enorma, with a terrific yawn.
“Melt!” exclaimed Grampa, his eyes snapping, “why, I’m just beginning to thaw out.”
“Well, you’ll soon be entirely out of the way,” said the dragon comfortably. “The folk hereabout melt at my mere approach.” Enorma yawned again and began to pant a little, from her slide down the hill.
“Humph!” grunted the old soldier. At the first yawn he had made a startling discovery—at the second he was sure he had made it. Taking out his snuff box, the old soldier tip-toed close to the monster and flung the entire contents in her face.
Then, “Run for your lives!” shouted Grampa, starting off at his best pace. And it is well that they quickly obeyed this command, for the sneezes of that dragon shook the entire island and sent the snow in blinding flurries all around them.
