The Tale of Oat Cake Crag

The Tale of Oat Cake Crag by Susan Wittig Albert Page A

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claw, and a telescope in the other.”
    “And a laurel wreath on his head,” suggested Parsley, “suggesting honor. With perhaps the moon and some stars over his shoulder.” She said this kindly, but with a hint of a smile. Parsley never took the Professor as seriously as the Professor took himself.
    Not seeing her smile, the owl brightened, for the idea had possibilities. “Admirable suggestions, my friends, admirable. I shall have tooo give this matter some urgent attention.” He finished his scone, peered onto the plate to make sure it was empty, and coughed politely. “I believe I shall gooo hooome and begin attending tooo it right now,” he said, although what he was really thinking about, now that he had had his tea, was dinner. A largish mouse would do rather nicely, if he happened to meet one on the way. “Thank yooou very much for the tea.”
    “Shall I see you out with a candle?” Bosworth asked. “The hallway is rather dark.”
    The owl smiled condescendingly. “Yooou forget that I am an owl, my friend. I am at my best in the dark.” And with that, he took his leave.
    But he wasn’t gone long. Parsley was pouring another cup of tea and Bosworth had moved his chair closer to the fire when they heard a clatter and a loud barrage of very unprofessorial words. A moment later, the owl appeared in the kitchen doorway. His belly feathers were dripping.
    “I fear I must trouble yooou for a towel,” he said.
    Parsley’s eyes were round. “Of course,” she said, opening a drawer and taking out a large one. “But what happened, Professor? However did you manage to get so wet?”
    But the badger knew exactly what had happened. “I’m sorry, Owl,” he said humbly. “It’s entirely my fault. I should have been more careful.”
    He had left the fire bucket sitting out in the middle of the hall. The Professor (who might be able to see in the dark but had forgotten to look) had put his foot in it.

4

    Splash and Sizzle
    I shall begin this chapter by giving you fair warning. We are about to meet a dragon.
    Now, this may matter not one whit to people who are accustomed to encountering a great many unusual things in this world and are not very much put out by odd situations that they happen to trip over, or fall into, or are struck by, or read about in books. On the other hand, there are people who are able to accept the idea of badgers and owls having tea and cats and dogs carrying on civil conversations, but who draw the line at dragons.
    “Owls and badgers and cats and dogs exist,” such a person might say. “I myself have seen them, and it isn’t much of a stretch to imagine them talking to one another. But I have never seen a dragon. Surely, if there were such things, somebody would have caught one, the way people catch elephants and tigers and such, and put it in a circus.”
    Well, perhaps. I certainly see the point. But dragons are smarter than elephants and tigers and such, when it comes to getting caught, and that is probably why there are no dragons in circuses. And anyway, it is in the nature of dragons to fly and spout fire, two characteristics which would tend to make dragons less attractive to circus owners, who might worry that they would either fly away with the tent or burn it down. Elephants and tigers have better manners.
    And if you continue to say, “Oh, come now, this whole argument is totally ridiculous, and the whole thing is impossible, for there simply are no dragons,” I shall have to reply that of course it is possible, for this is a dragon tale, and how can we have a dragon tale if there are no dragons?
    Well. I can see by the look on your face that you have already come to a conclusion. So I recommend to you that, if you have decided there are no dragons, you should put in a bookmark, close the book, and go and make yourself a cup of tea. If you change your mind, you can always come back later.
    On the other hand, if you are open-minded on the subject, you are invited to

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