hat at last he resolved to go and see his
majesty himself, and get repaid. So one fine morning Drakestail, very
spruce and fresh, takes the road, singing: "Quack, quack, quack, when
shall I get my money back?"

He had not gone far when he met friend Fox, on his rounds that way.

"Good-morning, neighbor," says the friend; "where are you off to so
early?"

"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." Aloud
says he, "I will, but going on all fours 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 friend Fox.

He takes bag and baggage, and, presto! is gone like a letter into the
post.

And Drakestail is off again, all spruce and fresh, still singing:
"Quack, quack, quack, when shall I have my money back?"

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." Aloud
says he: "I will, but then 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 further 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!"

Drakestail said to himself: "One can't have too many friends." Aloud
says he: "I will, but you who sleep while you walk will soon get tired.
Make yourself quite small, get into my throat--go into my gizzard, and I
will carry you."

"Ah! happy thought!" says my friend River.

She takes bag and baggage, and glou, glou, glou she takes her place
between friend Fox and my friend Ladder.

And "Quack, quack, quack," Drakestail is off again singing.

A little further on he meets comrade Wasp's-nest, maneuvering his wasps.

"Well, good-morning, friend Drakestail," said comrade Wasp's-nest,
"where are we bound for, so s