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say _I_ don't know； and anybody but a selfish pig would have
MADE him go to bed long ago〃
〃And he SHALL go to bed！〃 cried the dragon； starting up。
〃Poor little chap； only fancy his being up at this hour！ It's a
shame； that's what it is； and I don't think； St。 George； you've
been very consideratebut come along at once； and don't let us
have any more arguing or shilly…shallying。 You give me hold of
your hand； Boythank you； George； an arm up the hill is just
what I wanted！〃
So they set off up the hill arm…in…arm； the Saint； the Dragon；
and the Boy。 The lights in the little village began to go out；
but there were stars； and a late moon； as they climbed to the
Downs together。 And； as they turned the last corner and
disappeared from view； snatches of an old song were borne
back on the night…breeze。 I can't be certain which of them was
singing； but I THINK it was the Dragon！
〃Here we are at your gate；〃 said the man； abruptly； laying his
hand on it。 〃Good…night。 Cut along in sharp； or you'll catch
it！〃
Could it really be our own gate？ Yes； there it was； sure enough；
with the familiar marks on its bottom bar made by our feet when
we swung on it。
〃Oh； but wait a minute！〃 cried Charlotte。 〃I want to know a heap
of things。 Did the dragon really settle down？ And did〃
〃There isn't any more of that story；〃 said the man； kindly but
firmly。 〃At least； not to…night。 Now be off！ Good…bye！〃
〃Wonder if it's all true？〃 said Charlotte； as we hurried up the
path。 〃Sounded dreadfully like nonsense； in parts！〃
〃P'raps its true for all that；〃 I replied encouragingly。
Charlotte bolted in like a rabbit； out of the cold and the dark；
but I lingered a moment in the still； frosty air； for a backward
glance at the silent white world without； ere I changed it for
the land of firelight and cushions and laughter。 It was the day
for choir…practice； and carol…time was at hand； and a belated
member was passing homewards down the road； singing as he went：
〃Then St。 George： ee made rev'rence： in the stable so dim；
Oo vanquished the dragon： so fearful and grim。
So…o grim： and so…o fierce： that now may we say
All peaceful is our wakin'： on Chri…istmas Day！〃
The singer receded； the carol died away。 But I wondered； with my
hand on the door…latch； whether that was the song； or something
like it； that the dragon sang as he toddled contentedly up the
hill。
A DEPARTURE
It is a very fine thing to be a real Prince。 There are points
about a Pirate Chief； and to succeed to the Captaincy of a Robber
Band is a truly magnificent thing。 But to be an Heir has also
about it something extremely captivating。 Not only a long…lost
heiran heir of the melodrama； strutting into your hitherto
unsuspected kingdom at just the right moment； loaded up with the
consciousness of unguessed merit and of rights so long
feloniously withheldbut even to be a common humdrum domestic
heir is a profession to which few would refuse to be apprenticed。
To step from leading…strings and restrictions and one glass of
port after dinner； into property and liberty and due
appreciation； saved up； polished and varnished； dusted and
laid in lavender； all expressly for youwhy； even the Princedom
and the Robber Captaincy； when their anxieties and
responsibilities are considered； have hardly more to offer。 And
so it will continue to be a problem； to the youth in whom
ambition struggles with a certain sensuous appreciation of life's
side…dishes； whether the career he is called upon to select out
of the glittering knick…knacks that strew the counter had better
be that of an heir or an engine…driver。
In the case of eldest sons； this problem has a way of solving
itself。 In childhood； however； the actual heirship is apt to
work on the principle of the 〃Borough…English〃 of our happier
ancestors； and in most cases of inheritance it is the youngest
that succeeds。 Where the 〃res〃 is 〃angusta；〃 and the weekly
books are simply a series of stiff hurdles at each of which in
succession the paternal legs falter with growing suspicion
of their powers to clear the flight； it is in the affair of
CLOTHES that the right of succession tells； and 〃the hard heir
strides about the land〃 in trousers long ago framed for fraternal
limbsfrondes novas et non sua poma。 A bitter thing indeed！
Of those pretty silken threads that knit humanity together； high
and low； past and present； none is tougher； more pervading； or
more iridescent； than the honest； simple pleasure of new clothes。
It tugs at the man as it tugs at the woman； the smirk of the
well…fitted prince is no different from the smirk of the Sunday…
clad peasant； and the veins of the elders tingle with the same
thrill that sets their fresh…frocked grandchildren skipping。
Never trust people who pretend that they have no joy in their new
clothes。
Let not our souls be wrung； however； at contemplation of the
luckless urchin cut off by parental penury from the rapture
of new clothes。 Just as the heroes of his dreams are his
immediate seniors； so his heroes' clothes share the glamour； and
the reversion of them carries a high privilegea special thing
not sold by Swears and Wells。 The sword of Galahadand of many
another heroarrived on the scene already hoary with history；
and the boy rather prefers his trousers to be legendary； famous；
haloed by his hero's renowneven though the nap may have
altogether vanished in the process。
But； putting clothes aside； there are other matters in which this
reversed heirship comes into play。 Take the case of Toys。 It is
hardly right or fittingand in this the child quite acquiesces
that as he approaches the reverend period of nine or say ten
years； he should still be the unabashed and proclaimed possessor
of a hoop and a Noah's Ark。 The child will quite see the
reasonableness of this； and； the goal of his ambition being now a
catapult； a pistol； or even a sword…stick； will be satisfied that
the titular ownership should lapse to his juniors； so far below
him in their kilted or petticoated incompetence。 After all； the
things are still there； and if relapses of spirit occur； on wet
afternoons； one can still （nominally） borrow them and be happy on
the floor as of old； without the reproach of being a habitual
baby toy…caresser。 Also one can pretend it's being done to amuse
the younger ones。
None of us； therefore； grumbled when in the natural course of
things the nominal ownership of the toys slipped down to Harold；
and from him in turn devolved upon Charlotte。 The toys were
still there； they always had been there and always would be
there； and when the nursery door was fast shut there were no
Kings or Queens or First Estates in that small Republic on
the floor。 Charlotte； to be sure； chin…tilted； at last an owner
of real estate； might patronize a little at times； but it was
tacitly understood that her 〃title