Digory The Dragon Slayer

honeycomb cake and a bag of bramble jellybeans.
    When the picnic was finished Digory made up a song called ‘The Truth of the Tooth’!
    This was definitely not one of Digory’s greatest songs, but the words fitted a tune that had been humming itself in his head for days, so he was very pleased.
    Later that afternoon, as he wandered along the lane, Digory met Noggy Bowlegs, the goose boy, leading his geese to market.
    ‘Don’t reckon the tooth fairy will notice that molar up there on your hat,’ Noggy giggled. ‘Better put it under your pillow when you get home.’
    ‘That’s not my tooth,’ said Digory, giving Noggy a grin to show that he had none missing. ‘That’s a dragon’s tooth!’
    At the mention of the word ‘dragon’ Noggy’s knees began to quiver.
    ‘Oooh! Oddsbodikins!’ he gasped. ‘Now don’t you say another word there, Digory,’ he stuttered. ‘You’ll scare the geese so much they’ll be as thin as old boilers by the time I get them to market.’
    Poor Noggy looked so awestruck that Digory couldn’t help himself.
    ‘DRRRAAAGGGONS!’ he cried, waving his arms wildly. And, before you could say ‘goosey, goosey, gander’, Noggy and his birds had flown off down the lane.

NEWS TRAVELS FAST

    Now, when Digory got home that afternoon, all the villagers stared. They pointed at his hat, nudging and whispering. At first, Digory, humming the tooth song to himself, didn’t notice. Then someone started to cheer. People came running from the market and began to clap and whistle. Digory started to feel uncomfortable. He looked round. No, there wasn’t an Important Person riding behind him. Even the village boys were cheering Digory himself.
    Soon crowds had come out of their shops and cottages to get a glimpse of Digory passing by.
    ‘Three cheers for Digory!’ they cried.
    ‘Digory killed the dragon!’
    The children jumped up to touch his hat. ‘Look at the tooth, just like Noggy said! Digory has saved us from the dragon! Hurray, we’re saved!’
    Digory suddenly understood.
    ‘But... but...’ he protested. ‘You’ve got it all wrong. I just found the tooth, I didn’t even see a dragon.’
    However, it was useless to argue. No one would listen. Digory found himself lifted on to the shoulders of the crowd and carried like a hero into the square, where the whole village had gathered and Squire Paunch himself was waiting.
    Digory had always been shy of Squire Paunch. The Squire wore yellow waistcoats and black whiskers and slapped people on the back to be friendly. Digory wanted to run away, but there was nowhere to hide. The Squire brought his big whiskery face close to Digory’s nose and peered at him with a puzzled look. ‘Is this him ?’ he asked the crowd.
    All the villagers cheered.
    ‘YES!’ they cried. ‘That’s him!’
    So the Squire shook Digory by the hand and, sure enough, slapped him heartily on the back, (denting the lute and knocking all the breath out of him).
    ‘Well, well,’ the Squire laughed, ‘who’d have thought that young carrot top here would single-handedly save our village from the dragon!’
    ‘The bloodthirsty dragon!’ cried a plough-boy in the crowd.
    ‘The bone-crunching, snout-snarling, bloodthirsty dragon!’ bellowed the butcher.
    ‘The jaw-dripping, flesh-ripping, bone-crunching, snout-snarling, bloodthirsty dragon!’ cackled an old dame at the back.
    The villagers roared.
    But all this flesh-ripping talk made Digory feel dizzy.
    ‘Speech, speech!’ shouted the crowd.
    The Squire pushed Digory forward. All the villagers hushed to hear his words. Digory stared at their eager faces.
    ‘I think... I think... I... eeuuurgh...’
    And he swayed and he swooned and he fainted on the spot.
    At that moment Digory’s mother arrived. She pushed her way through the crowd with a hot poker.
    ‘Make way, make way! Where’s my boy? Where’s my little Digory?’ And, with a sweep of her strong arms, she picked Digory up off the ground, shook the dust off him and heaved him over her shoulder. The crowd cheered again.
    ‘You should be very proud of your son, Betsy,’ said the Squire. ‘He’s a great hero. He has saved this village from the jaw-dripping, flesh-ripping, bone-crunching, snout-snarling, bloodthirsty dragon. We’ll have a feast in his honour. Why, we’ll make him a knight and name him ‘Sir Digory the Dragon Slayer’!’
    Digory’s mother beamed brighter than a furnace, and a hot tear sizzled down her