PRINCE PRIGIO. 57

 

terribly, towards his enemy. But the struggle
was too much for the gallant Remora. The
flat, cruel head moved slower; the steam from
his thousand wounds grew fiercer; and he gently
breathed his last just as the Firedrake, too, fell
over and lay exhausted. With one final roar,
like the breath of a thousand furnaces, the
Firedrake expired.

The prince, watching from the hill-top, could
scarcely believe that these two awful scourges of
Nature, which had so long devastated his
country, were actually dead. But when he
had looked on for half-an-hour, and only a
river ran where the Remora had been, while
the body of the Firedrake lay stark and cold,.
he hurried to the spot.

Drawing the sword of sharpness, he hacked
off, at two blows, the iron head and the tail of
the Firedrake. They were a weary weight to
carry; but in a few strides of the shoes of
swiftness he was at his castle, where he threw
down his burden, and nearly fainted with
excitement and fatigue.

But the castle clock struck half-past seven;
dinner was at eight, and the poor prince
crawled on hands and knees to the garret.
Here he put on the wishing-cap; wished for a
pint of champagne, a hot bath, and his best
black velvet and diamond suit. In a moment
these were provided; he bathed, dressed, drank
a glass of wine, packed up the head and tail of