ourself 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.' ... '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!'

Drakestail said to himself: 'We can't be too many friends.'... 'I will,'
says he, 'but you who sleep while you walk will soon be 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 farther on he meets comrade Wasp's-nest, manoeuvring his wasps.

'Well, good-morning, friend Drakestail,' said comrade Wasp's-nest,
'where are we bound for so spruce and fresh?'

'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 battalion to drag along, you will soon be
tired. Make yourself quite small, go into my throat--get into my gizzard
and I will carry you.'

'By Jove I that's a good idea!' says comrade Wasp's-nest.

And left file! he takes the same road to join the others with all
his party. There was not much more room, but by closing up a bit they
managed.... And Drakestail is off again singing.

He arri