, and the sharp points of the King's
crown (which was firmly fastened to the head) pricked the Dragon's
stomach and made the creature miserable. After a few days of suffering
the Dragon disgorged the head, and, not knowing what else to do with
it, locked it up in a cupboard and put the key in its pocket.

When the Dragon met the wood-chopper and learned he had made a new head
for the King, and as a reward was to wed one of the princesses, the
monster became very angry. It resolved to do a wicked thing; which will
not surprise you when you remember the beast's purple color.

"Step into my parlor and rest yourself," said the Dragon, politely.
Wicked people are most polite when they mean mischief.

"Thank you, I'll stop for a few minutes," replied the wood-chopper;
"but I can not stay long, as I am expected at court."

When he had entered the parlor the Dragon suddenly opened its mouth and
snapped off the poor wood-chopper's head. Being warned by experience,
however, it did not swallow the head, but placed it in the cupboard.
Then the Dragon took from a shelf the King's head and glued it on the
wood-chopper's neck.

"Now," said the beast, with a cruel laugh, "you are the King! Go home
and claim your wife and your kingdom."

The poor wood-chopper was much amazed; for at first he did not really
know which he was, the King or the wood-chopper.

He looked in the mirror and, seeing the King, made a low bow. Then the
King's head thought: "Who am I bowing to? There is no one greater than
the King!" And so at once there began a conflict between the
wood-chopper's heart and the King's head.

The Dragon was mightily pleased at the result of its wicked stratagem,
and having pushed the bewildered wood-chopper out of the castle,
immediately sent him on his way to the court.

When the poor man neared the town the people ran out and said: "Why,
this is the King come back again. All hail, your Majesty!"

"All nonsense!" returned the wood-chopper. "I am only a poor man with
the King's head on my shoulders. You can easily see it isn't mine, for
it's crooked; the Dragon didn't glue it on straight."

"Where, then, is your own head?" they asked.

"Locked up in the Dragon's cupboard," replied the poor fellow,
beginning to weep.

"Here," cried the King's head; "stop this. You mustn't cry out of my
eyes! The King never weeps."

"I beg pardon, your Majesty," said the wood-chopper, meekly, "I'll not
do it again."

"Well, see that