Three Tales of My Father's Dragon
“Oh, well,” said the King, “come on back. If I’m going to tell the secret to anyone, it’ll never be a secret anymore, and I suppose you might as well know, too. I do wish it weren’t such an old secret.”
Flute, the dragon, and Elmer waited quietly while the King looked at the ground, then up at the tree, and then down at the ground.
“Treasure!” he whispered so suddenly that they all jumped into the air. “At least I think it’s treasure, but I can’t find out without your help.”
“Where?” asked Elmer.
“It’s—it’s—it’s not very far from here,” said the King. Elmer, Flute, and the dragon looked every-which-way to see where the treasure could be.
“Oh gosh, I guess I’ll have to tell you where, too,” said poor old King Can XI. “It’s buried—it’s buried right under this tree—in a big iron chest.”
“What sort of treasure?” asked Elmer.
“That’s what I’m dying of curiosity to know,” said the King.
“So that’s it!” sighed Flute.
“And you’re sure this is the right tree?” asked Elmer.
“Absolutely! You see, it’s much bigger than the others, and that’s because it was the only one here when the settlers came. They planted the other pines and the apple orchard so they’d have wood and food when they returned. But they never came back, and their chest is still buried right here.”
Everybody waited for the King to continue, but he didn’t, so Elmer said, “Let’s dig it up!”
“Yes, let’s!” echoed Flute.
“All right,” said the King. “My secret’s all spoiled now, anyway. You’ll find the shovel under that rock.”
“What shovel?” asked Elmer.
“The settlers left a shovel over there. It’s rusty by now, but it’s probably better than nothing.”
Elmer went to get the shovel while the King danced around on the pine needles chirping, “I’m feeling better already.” The Queen kept tittering and muttering to herself, “I never thought I’d live to see this day.”
“Now, where should I begin digging?” asked Elmer.
“It’s a rhyme,” said the King. “It goes like this:
Four shovel lengths from the trunk of the pine,
Making the rock the guide for the line.”
Elmer carefully measured the distance and began to dig. The dragon did his best to help while Flute and the King and Queen sat watching the hole growing deeper. By now it was dark in the pine forest, but enough moonlight filtered through the branches of the tall trees so that they could just see what they were doing. They dug for six hours without ever hitting a root or a rock or anything like an iron chest.
“Are you certain this is the right place?” asked Elmer, tired and discouraged.
“I’m positive!” said the King. Just then the moon went under the clouds and Elmer’s shovel hit something with a loud clang.
“The chest!” they all shouted, but it was too dark to see. And they waited so long for the moon to come out that they all went to sleep still waiting.
Chapter Eight
TREASURE
Flute woke up and trilled so loudly that he startled the King and the Queen and Elmer and the dragon wide awake. The other canaries had been up for an hour and were crowding around to see what was happening under the tree. Everybody peered into the big hole and gasped, “A real treasure chest, with a ring in the top! But how will we ever get it out?”
The King looked at Elmer, and Elmer looked at the dragon. “Dragon, do you think you could put your tail through the ring and pull up the chest?”
“I’ll try,” said the dragon, puffing up with importance as the swarms of canaries moved aside for him. He backed up to the hole, stuck his tail down and through the ring, and pulled.
Nothing happened.
“Couldn’t you pull harder?” suggested the King.
“That’s exactly what I was going to try. Just let me catch my breath,” said the dragon somewhat crossly. “After all, I’m not used to lifting heavy chests with my tail.” He took a deep, deep breath and pulled very, very hard, and suddenly the chest moved. He grunted and strained and struggled and panted and slowly, slowly hoisted the chest up out of the hole.
“Far enough!” yelled Elmer. “Now walk forward and set it down.”
Crash! The chest fell down on the pine needles and the dragon staggered off to sit down while the canaries shouted “Bravo!”
“Quiet! Quiet!” yelled King Can XI. “I am now about to tell you the last part of the secret. The key to this chest—the key to this chest—well, anyway, this is the last part of the secret. My illustrious ancestor, King Can I, stole the key from the settlers, and the key to this chest is in my nest. Go get it, Flute. No, never mind. I’ll go get it myself.”
The King flew up to his nest and down again with a big brass key in his beak. Elmer pried out the dirt in the keyhole with his jackknife and put in the key.
Click! The lock turned. Elmer threw back the lid, and picked up a note lying on top of a piece of heavy canvas. “Can you read what it says?” asked the King.
“Yes,” said Elmer, feeling sick with excitement as he read the note aloud:
“Rubbish!” interrupted the King. “Isn’t there anything but cooking utensils?”
“Let me finish the list,” said Elmer. He continued reading:
“Gold! I knew it! Just think of it, Queen. Six bags of gold!” trilled the King.
“What will you do with them, King dear?” asked the Queen.
“I won’t do anything with them. I’ll just have them and be rich.”
“Shall I unpack now?” asked Elmer, who was anxious to see the sterling silver harmonica.
“By all means,” ordered King Can XI, strutting back and forth in front of the twittering canaries.
Elmer unpacked everything, and at last came to the sterling silver harmonica. He blew on it gently, and the sound was so sweet that all the canaries stopped chattering and listened. The King listened, too, with tears in his eyes. When Elmer had finished playing “The Bear Went Over the Mountain,” the King flew up to a branch of the pine and said solemnly, “Elmer, on behalf of the Queen and myself, and all the other Feather Islanders, I want to thank you and your dragon friend for digging up this treasure and thereby ridding us of the plague of curiosity. I now present you with that silver harmonica, which you play so beautifully, and three of the six bags of gold. And to this brave dragon I present the gold watch and chain. Elmer, fasten it around his neck.”
Elmer hooked the chain around the dragon’s neck, arranging the watch at his throat. “How’s that?” asked Elmer.
“I can’t see it, but it feels just fine,” said the proud baby dragon.
The birds all clapped their wings and then the dragon, who really didn’t care for speeches, remarked, “Looking at those pots and plates makes me hungry. Let’s celebrate and eat something!”
“Goodness!” said the Queen. “I don’t believe we’ve ever had a celebration before. What shall we eat?”
“Tangerines!” said Elmer. “I bet you’ve never tasted one.”
Elmer peeled twelve of the thirty-one tangerines he had left in his knapsack, and put one on each of the twelve pewter plates. Then he hurried off to pick a good mess of skunk cabbages and ostrich ferns for the dragon. When he came back everyone crowded around to feast. Elmer sat beside the dragon and ate nine tangerines all by himself. Then he played “Turkey in the Straw” on the sterling silver harmonica while the King did a jig on a pewter plate. Soon everybody joined in the dancing, and they danced themselves to sleep, all over the pine needles under the great tall tree.
Chapter Nine
FAREWELL
“I think I ought to be getting home,” said Elmer the next morning as he ate the last ten tangerines. “How do you feel, Dragon?”
“Fine! Why, I could fly to the moon and back.”
“Good,” said Elmer, “because I think today is my father’s birthday.” He
looked at the plates and the pots and the cups and the silverware and the bags of seed spread all over the pine needles and asked, “King, what shall we do with your part of the treasure?”
“Dear, dear,” said the King. “Well, we can plant the seeds, but I guess we ought to put the rest back in the chest. But my gold! I must have my gold!”
“I insist upon at least one silver spoon,” cheeped the Queen.
“Then I’ll save out the seeds and a spoon and three pieces of gold,” suggested Elmer, who was anxious to be off.
“Better make it five pieces of gold,” said the King. “I really ought to give one to Flute.”
Elmer packed the chest and gave the key back to the King. “Shall we bury it again?” he asked.
“I suppose so,” said the King with tears in his eyes. “I hate to think of it way down there, but at least it will be safe from robbers. But never mind about putting back the dirt. We can do that ourselves.”
So the dragon carefully lowered the chest into the hole while Elmer put away the shovel. Then Elmer packed his knapsack with the three bags of gold and the sterling silver harmonica, carefully wrapping the harmonica in the burlap bag left over from the rescue.
“Good-bye, everybody, and thanks for a wonderful visit,” he shouted to all the canaries. “You can count on me. I’ll never tell your secret to a soul.”
“Good-bye, Elmer, and thanks again,” said the King, who was already busy giving orders to the other canaries about filling up the hole.
Flute rode on Elmer’s shoulder as he and the dragon walked back to the cliff. “Good-bye, Elmer. Please give my best to your mother. She really was awfully good to me, you know.”
“I will, Flute, and good-bye,” said Elmer, wondering if he didn’t have some little thing to give Flute. He looked once more in his knapsack and found that he still had three sticks of chewing gum and half a package of rubber bands. “I don’t suppose you’d like to have these?” he asked.
“I’d love them,” said Flute. “I’ll keep them with my gold piece, and I’ll be even richer than the King because I’ll keep my treasure where I can see it every day.”
Flute told Elmer and the dragon the best way to fly to Nevergreen City, and then Elmer hopped aboard, waving farewell to Flute and Feather Island.
Chapter Ten
ELMER FLIES HOME
They flew and flew, the dragon trying hard not to look at, or think about, the wet, wet ocean. Elmer sat watching their shadow rippling over the waves beneath them, feeling washed by the cool morning breeze. The dragon was strong and well rested, being nicely stuffed with skunk cabbages and ostrich ferns, and they hadn’t stopped once when he shouted towards evening, “I think I see land ahead!”
“So do I, and I think it’s the coast of Popsicornia,” yelled Elmer. “Yes, I’m sure it is. There’s Firefly Lighthouse. It won’t be long now. It’s just a few miles up the coast from here.”
“Where shall I land when we get there?” asked the dragon. “Now that I’m free I should hate to be put in a zoo or a circus or something.”
“Well, it’ll be dark soon. I think you could land on a wharf without attracting attention. Of course, we’ll have to be quiet.”
They flew up the coast, passing the lighthouse and the Village of Fruitoria and the Town of Custard, and finally came to the outskirts of Nevergreen City.
“There it is!” cried Elmer. “See, that dark patch is Evergreen Park. I live just across the street. Could you land on that long wharf just ahead?”
“I think so,” said the dragon, “but I do hope nobody sees me.” He circled lower and lower and landed gently on the end of the wharf. Elmer slid off and whispered, “Gosh, it was fun knowing you. I’m going to miss you and flying and everything, and thanks so much for bringing me home.”
“It was fun, wasn’t it,” sniffled the dragon, “and I’ll never forget how you came all the way to Wild Island just to rescue me. By the way, Elmer, I really think you ought to have this beautiful gold watch and chain. I can’t see it on me, and anyway, I don’t even know how to tell time.”
“Are you sure? I could give it to my mother. But haven’t I got something you’d like to trade it for?”
“Well, as a matter of fact, I was wondering if you still had some of those delicious pink lollipops.”
“I have four left over,” said Elmer, getting them out and taking off the wrappers. “Would you like all four at once?”
“Yes,” said the dragon.
They stood there quietly in the dark, the dragon sucking four pink lollipops, and Elmer whispered, “Where will you go from here?”
“I’ll go to find my family in the great high mountains of Blueland,” said the dragon, thinking of his six sisters and seven brothers and his gigantic mother and father.
“I’d like to go there too, someday,” said Elmer.
“Well, maybe you will, but listen—I hear voices.”
“Men coming down the wharf! Quick, you’d better hurry! Good-bye, dear Dragon.”
The dragon flew up into the darkness just as two watchmen thumped by to make their rounds. Elmer hid behind a crate and heard one say, “Funny, I was sure I heard voices, and I know I heard something big flying just over our heads.”
“Look! Four lollipop wrappers!” said the other watchman, who had been searching the wharf with a lantern.
“Hmm,” said the first watchman, and then they walked back down the wharf. Elmer followed them at a distance, and while they were telling another watchman about the lollipop wrappers he ran as fast as he could, through the streets, through Evergreen Park, all the way home. He leaped up the porch steps three at a time yelling, “Mother, Daddy, I’m home! Happy Birthday!”
Mr. and Mrs. Elevator rushed to the door and threw their arms around Elmer. “Oh, Elmer, how glad we are to see you! You don’t know how worried we’ve been these past two weeks. Where on earth did you go?”
“I had an important job to do,” said Elmer, staring at the living-room sofa. “Why, there’s my friend the old alley cat!”
“Yes,” said Mrs. Elevator. “As much as I’ve always hated cats, I just didn’t have the heart to turn her out. She came to the door the day after you left, and I kept thinking, ‘Elmer loved this cat. I really ought to take good care of her.’ And do you know, I’ve grown awfully fond of her in just two weeks.”
Elmer rushed over to the cat and whispered, “I rescued the dragon and he just flew me home. He was right where you told me he’d be.”
“You did what?” asked Mr. Elevator.
“Oh, nothing,” said Elmer. “By the way, here’s your birthday present.” Elmer gave his father the three bags of gold and played “Happy Birthday” on the sterling silver harmonica. “And here’s a beautiful gold watch and chain for you, Mother.”
“But where did you ever get these things?” gasped Mr. and Mrs. Elevator.
“That’s a secret I can never tell,” said Elmer, rummaging in the icebox for something to eat.
THE END
RUTH STILES GANNETT
Illustrated by
RUTH CHRISMAN GANNETT
A YEARLING BOOK
Published in the United States by Random House, Inc., New York
My Father’s Dragon and design is a trademark of Ruth Stiles Gannett.
Copyright © 1951 by Random House, Inc. Copyright renewed 1979 by Ruth Stiles Gannett and Ruth Chrisman Gannett.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law. For information address Random House Books for Young Readers.
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eISBN: 978-0-307-97648-2
Reprinted by arrangement with Random
House Books for Young Readers
CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Map
1. The Hiding Place
2. Mr. and Mrs. Wagonwheel
3. The Men on the Slope
4. In the Cave
5. Back to Nevergreen City
6. Elmer to the Rescue
7. The Dragons of Blueland
8. To Spiky Mountain Range
9. Blueland
10. Escape
11. “The Dragon Affair”
Chapter One
THE HIDING PLACE
Over the harbor, past the lighthouse, away from Nevergreen City flew the happy baby dragon. “I’m on my way home to the great high mountains of Blueland!” he shouted to the evening skies. “At last I’m off to find my six sisters and seven brothers, and my dear gigantic mother and father.”
He sped northward over the coast of Popsicornia. He flew all night through the dark scudding clouds toward Awful Desert, which surrounded the mountains of Blueland. “I must be careful,” he thought to himself, “that nobody sees me on my way, but I’ll have to stop and rest somewhere. Where can I hide? I’ve grown as big as a buffalo, and my blue-and-yellow stripes and gold-colored wings will certainly attract attention.”
The darkness faded into morning, and looking down he saw green meadows, fields of corn and potatoes, a road wandering past barns and houses, and a brook zigzagging back and forth across the road. “Perhaps I can find a bridge to hide under,” thought the dragon, “but I’ll have to hurry. Soon the farmers will be up.”
He swooped, and coasted down to a place where the road crossed the brook. Gently he landed and pattered down the bank to hide underneath the bridge. But there wasn’t any bridge! The road had been built right over the brook, and the water flowed under the road through a culvert, a long round tunnel. And the culvert was too small for a dragon to hide in.