assed through many
kingdoms, the dragon snapping at maidens as he went, but being unable
to eat them because of the bit in his mouth, and earning no gentler
reward than a spurthrust where he was softest. And so they came to the
swart arboreal precipice of the unpassable forest. The dragon rose at
it with a rattle of wings. Many a farmer near the edge of the world
saw him up there where yet the twilight lingered, a faint, black,
wavering line; and mistaking him for a row of geese going inland from
the ocean, went into their houses cheerily rubbing their hands and
saying that winter was coming, and that we should soon have snow. Soon
even there the twilight faded away, and when they descended at the
edge of the world it was night and the moon was shining. Ocean, the
ancient river, narrow and shallow there, flowed by and made no murmur.
Whether the Gibbelins banqueted or whether they watched by the door,
they also made no murmur. And Alderic dismounted and took his armour
off, and saying one prayer to his lady, swam with his pickaxe. He did
not part from his sword, for fear that he meet with a Gibbelin. Landed
the other side, he began to work at once, and all went well with him.
Nothing put out its head from any window, and all were lighted so that
nothing within could see him in the dark. The blows of his pickaxe
were dulled in the deep walls. All night he worked, no sound came to
molest him, and at dawn the last rock swerved and tumbled inwards, and
the river poured in after. Then Alderic took a stone, and went to the
bottom step, and hurled the stone at the door; he heard the echoes
roll into the tower, then he ran back and dived through the hole in
the wall.

He was in the emerald-cellar. There was no light in the lofty vault
above him, but, diving through twenty feet of water, he felt the floor
all rough with emeralds, and open coffers full of them. By a faint ray
of the moon he saw that the water was green with them, and, easily
filling a satchel, he rose again to the surface; and there were the
Gibbelins waist-deep in the water, with torches in their hands! And,
without saying a word, _or even smiling_, they neatly hanged him on
the outer wall--and the tale is one of those that have not a happy
ending.

HOW NUTH WOULD HAVE PRACTISED HIS ART UPON THE GNOLES

Despite the advertisements of rival firms, it is probable that every
tradesman knows that nobody in business at the present time has a
position equal t