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When Farmer Giles got to court he was tired and dusty.But the knights, in polished mail and with shining helmets on their heads,were all standing by their horses.The King's summons and the inclusion of the farmer had annoyed them, and so they insisted on obeying orders literally, setting off the moment that Giles arrived.

The poor farmer had barely time to swallow a sop in a draught of wine before he was off on the road again.The mare was offended.What she thought of the King was luckily unexpressed, as it was highly disloyal.It was already late in the day.Too late in the day to start a dragon-hunt,' thought Giles. But they did not go far.

Yet we are, as all know, both just and generous, and our good liege Ngidius shall be suitably rewarded; nor shall any of our loyal subjects in this place go without some token of our esteem,from the parson to the youngest child.For we are well pleased with Ham. Here at least a sturdy and un-corrupted folk still retain the ancient courage of our race.

The knights were talking among themselves about the new fashion in hats.The people bowed and curtsied, and thanked him hum-bly.But they wished now that they had closed with the dragon's offer of ten pounds all round, and kept the matter private.They knew enough,at any rate, to feel sure that the King's esteem would not rise to that.

As you like,said Chrysophylax,licking his lips again,but pretending to close his eyes. He had a wicked heart (as dragons all have), but not a very bold one (as is not unusual).He preferred a meal that he did not have to fight for; but appetite had returned after a good long sleep. The parson of Oakley had been stringy, and it was years since he had tasted a large fat man.

He had now made up his mind to try this easy meat, and he was only waiting until the old fool was off his guard.But the old fool was not as foolish as he looked, and he kept his eye on the dragon,even while he was trying to mount.The mare,however,had other ideas, and she kicked and shied when Giles tried to get up.The dragon became impatient and made ready to spring.

I can't make armour out of naught,' he said `And it's not in my line. You'd best get the carpenter to make you a wooden shield. Not that it will help you much. He's a hot dragon.Their faces fell; but the miller was not so easily to be turned from his plan of sending Giles to the dragon, if he would go; or of blowing the bubble of his local reputation,if he refused in the end `What about ring-mail?he said.That would be a help; and it need not be very fine.

It would be for business and not for showing off' at court.What about your old leather jerkin, friend Aegidius? And there is a great pile of links and rings in the smithy. I don't suppose Master Fabricius himself knows what may be lying there.You don't know what you are talking about,' said the smith,growing cheerful.If it's real ringmail you mean,then you can't have it.

When the parson got home he took down many learned books from his shelves,and he sat up far into the night.Next morning it was discovered that the dragon had moved nearer still. All the people of Ham barred their doors and shuttered their windows; and those that had cellars went down into them and sat shivering in the candle-light.

But the parson stole out and went from door to door; and he told,to all who would listen through,a crack or a keyhole,what he had discovered in his study.Our good Aegidius,' he said, `by the King's grace is now the owner of Caudimordax,the famous sword that in popular romances is more vulgarly called. Tailbiter.

The parson smiled: not at the farmer's retort,for Giles and the miller were always giving one another as good as they got, being bosom enemies,as the saying was in Ham.The parson had suddenly been struck with a notion that pleased him, but he said no more at that time.The miller was not so pleased,and he scowled.

Plain certainly, and honest perhaps,' said he.But do you have to go to court and be a knight before you kill a dragon?Courage is all that is needed, as only yesterday I heard Master Aegidius declare.Surely he has as much courage as any knight?All the folk standing by shouted:Of course not! and Yes indeed Three cheers for the Hero of Ham!

As soon as he saw Giles come out with the blunderbuss a sign of great wrath as a rule,he rushed off to the village,barking and crying:Come out! Come out! Come out! Get up! Get up! Come and see my great master I He is bold and quick.He is going to shoot a giant for trespassing.The top of the hill could be seen from most of the houses.

When the people and the dog saw the giant's face rise above it, they quailed and held their breath, and all but the dog among them thought that this would prove a matter too big for Giles to deal with. Then the blunderbuss went bang,and the giant turned suddenly and went away, and in their amazement and their joy they clapped and cheered, and Garm nearly barked his head off.

There was plenty to talk about, for memorable events occurred very frequently. -But at the moment when this tale begins nothing memorable had, in fact, happened in Ham for quite a long time.Which suited Farmer Giles down to the ground: he was a slow sort of fellow, rather set in his ways, and taken up with his own affairs.

He had his hands full (he said) keeping the wolf from the door that is, keeping himself as fat and comfortable as his father before him.The dog was busy helping him.Neither of them gave much thought to the Wide World outside their fields, the village, and the nearest market.But the Wide World was there.

AEGIDIUS DE HAMMO was a man who lived in the midmost parts of the Island of Britain. In full his name was Ngidius Ahenobarbus Julius Agricola de Hammo;for people were richly endowed with names in those days,now long ago,when this island was still happily divided into many kingdoms.

There was more time then, and folly were fewer, so that most men were distinguished. However,those days are now over, so I will in what follows give the man his name shortly, and in the vulgar form: he was Farmer Giles of Ham, and he had a red beard. Ham was only a village,but villages were proud and independent still in those days.

The shadows where the Mewlips dwell Are dark and wet as ink,And slow and softly rings their bell,As in the slime you sink.You sink into the slime, who dare To knock upon their door,While down the grinning gargoyles stare And noisome waters pour.Beside the rotting river-strand The drooping willows weep,And gloomily the gorcrows stand Croaking in their sleep.

Over the Merlock Mountains a long and weary way,In a mouldy valley where the trees are grey,By a dark pool's borders without wind or tide,Moonless and sunless, the Mewlips hide.The cellars where the Mewlips sit Are deep and dank and cold With single sickly candle lit;And there they count their gold.