He had not gone far when he met his lady-friend Ladder, leaning on her wall.
‘Good morning, my duckling,’ says the lady friend, ‘whither away so bold?’
‘I am going to the King for what he owes me.’
‘Oh! take me with thee!’
Drakestail said to himself: ‘One can’t have too many friends.’ ... ‘I will,’ says he, ‘but with your wooden legs you will soon be tired. Make yourself quite small, get into my throat—go into my gizzard and I will carry you.’
‘Happy thought!’ says my friend Ladder, and nimble, bag and baggage, goes to keep company with friend Fox.
And ‘Quack, quack, quack.’ Drakestail is off again, singing and spruce as before. A little farther he meets his sweetheart, my friend River, wandering quietly in the sunshine.
‘Thou, my cherub,’ says she, ‘whither so lonesome, with arching tail, on this muddy road?’
‘I am going to the King, you know, for what he owes me.’
‘Oh! take me with thee!’