Nine Tales for Children

Karel Čapek

plus one additional tale by Josef Čapek

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The Great Policeman's Tale

 

            I expect you already know that in every police station there are some policemen who stay awake and on guard all through the night in case anything happens such as robbers breaking in somewhere or some evil people causing damage.  That's why the policemen in the station stay awake right through till morning while there are some other policemen out on patrol, walking through the streets and watching out for robbers, thieves, ruffians and other not very nice people.  When one of these policemen out on patrol starts to feel his legs hurting he goes back to the station and then another policeman goes out on the streets to keep watch.  And so it goes all through the night; and to make the time pass quicker the policemen in the station smoke their pipes and tell each other stories about the strange things they have seen. 

            They were in the station smoking and talking like this one night when a policeman came back in from patrol and said, "Evening lads!  I'd like to report that me legs are aching". 

            "Take a seat then," the sergeant told him, "and we'll send Holas out to take your place.  So tell us what's been happening on your beat and what you've been doing in the name of the law."

            "Wasn't much happening out there tonight, sarge.  Couple of cats fighting in Stephen Street, so I got them apart and told them off in the name of the law.  Then in Corn Street a little sparrow chick fell out of its nest, just outside number 23.  So I called the fire brigade and asked them to come along with a ladder so that they could put it back, and warned the chick's parents that they ought to take more care of their young'uns.  Then, on me way down Barley Road, I felt something tugging at me trousers.  I had a look and it turned out to be a gnome, one of them gnomes with big beards down in Charles Square."

            "Which one was it then?" the oldest of the policemen asked.  "There's a lot of them down there; there's Mydlifousek, Kolbaba - the one they call grandad - Šmidrkal, Padrholec, Pumprdlík, Kvaček who's always smoking his pipe, Kuřinožka, Tintěra who only moved in not long ago ..."

            "Well the one that was tugging on me trousers, that was Padrholec, him what lives in that old willow tree."

            "Oh yeah," said the oldest policeman.  "He's alright, that Padrholec.  If anyone ever loses anything on Charles Square, anything like a ring or a ball or an apricot, that Padrholec he'll always hand it in.  Now what was it you were saying?"

            "Well this gnome, he says to me, 'Officer I can't get in me own home, there's a squirrel what's got into my place in the willow tree and he won't let me in.'  So I drew me sword out,  went along to the willow tree with this Padrholec and I told the squirrel, in the name of the law, to leave the gnome's home immediately and not to commit any more offences, violations or crimes such as trespass, disturbing the peace, violence or other wrongdoing.  Then the squirrel said to me, 'Wait till it stops raining'.  So I took off me belt and me raincoat and I climbed up that willow tree.  Once I'd got up to the knothole where Padrholec lives this squirrel starts whining, 'Oh officer, please, don't arrest me!  I'm only hiding here in Mr. Padrholec's home because because it's raining and the rain's coming in where I live'.  'Don't you give me none of your lip, squirrel,' I told him, 'gather up your fruit and beechnuts and you get out of Mr. Padrholec's private residence.  And if you ever again wilfully or forcefully enter his private property without his agreement and consent then I'll call in reinforcements, surround you, arrest you, put handcuffs on you and take you to the station.  So move!'  And that's all that happened out there tonight, lads."

            "I've never seen a gnome," said one of the policemen.  "I've always done my beat in a nice part of town where all the buildings are new and they don't have any apparitions, beings or supernatural occurrences, as you might call them."

            "Oh, there's a lot of them about," said the oldest policeman.  "Used to be even more of them.  There was a water gnome down by the weir in Šítkov, for instance.  He was a well behaved sort of water gnome and never had nothing to do with the police.  That water gnome in Libeň, though, he was a tricky sort of character, but the one in Šitkov, he was a decent sort.  In fact the Prague city council put him in charge of all the other water gnomes in town and paid him a monthly wage.  He kept watch over the River Vltava and made sure it never dried up; never used to cause any floods like those other gnomes out in the countryside up near the source of the river.  But that gnome in Libeň, he was a spiteful so and so, he egged the other one on and got him to ask the city council to give him a title to go with his job and get paid as much as a civil servant.  Then when the council told him he couldn't have it cause he hadn't been to university this Šítkov gnome got quite offended and moved out away from Prague.  They say he's working on the River Elbe up in Dresden now.  And of course, all the water gnomes on the Elbe, right the way through Germany as far as Hamburg, they're all Czech.  And ever since then, there hasn't been a water gnome by the weir in Šítkov, and that's why Prague keeps getting these water shortages.   And then there's the fairies that started dancing and glowing like little fires at night in Charles Square, but they weren't up to any good and people were afraid of them, so the city council made a deal with them that they should move out into Stromovka Park where there'd be a man who'd come from the gas works to get them to light up at night and put them out in the morning.  Only when the war came, this man from the gasworks was called up and so everyone forgot about the lights in Stromovka Park.  As for the fairies, there was only seventeen of them left there and three of them went off to join the ballet, one went off to join the film industry, one got married to an ironmonger, and six of them went to work in other parks.  There was one park where the park-keeper wanted to get a fairy to settle but she didn't stay long there - too much wind, I reckon.  Then there are the gnomes registered with the police who are attached to public buildings, parks, monasteries, libraries and so on.  There are three hundred and forty six of them here in  Prague, but that's not counting the imps in private houses that we don't know about.  There used to be lots of bogeymen in Prague too, but they've been done away with now cause it's been scientifically proven they don't exist.  Mind you, they do say there's a few people up in Malá Strana who've got old-time bogeymen hidden away in their attics, and that's against the law, that is.  A friend of mine based in Malá Strana station told me about that.  And as far as I know, that's all."

            "Apart from that dragon, " said P.C. Kubát, "the one they killed in Žižkov in the Jewish bakeries."

            "Žižkov," said the oldest policeman, "I've never had much to do in that part of town, and I don't know much about that dragon."

            "Well I was there," said P.C. Kubát, "but it was Vokoun who was in charge of the whole thing.  It was all a long time ago, while Bienert was still chief.  It started one evening when an old woman came up to Vokoun, Mrs. Částková it was from the tobacconist's, and she was what you call a wise woman, told fortunes and cast spells, that sort of thing.  Anyway, this Mrs. Částková told Vokoun that she'd been reading the cards and that in the Jewish bakeries there was a dragon called Huldabord who was keeping a beautiful maiden prisoner after he'd taken her away from her parents, and this maiden, she said, was a princess from Murcia.  'Whether she's a princess or not', said Vokoun, 'this dragon's got to give her back to her parents, otherwise I'll have to proceed in accordance with the law, byelaws, regulations, rules and service stipulations.'  And when he'd said that he took his sword and went down to the district where the Jewish bakeries were.  And I think any of us would have done the same."

            "Yeah, | think we would," said PC. Bambas.  "Only I've got my beat in a posh part of town and we don't get any dragons up there.  Now, what were you saying?"

            "Well, PC. Vokoun," PC. Kubát continued, "he took his side weapon and went straight down to the Jewish quarter, even though it was the middle of the night.  And I swear to you, out from one of those holes or caverns or whatever they have down there he heard some loud, rough voices.  So he shone his torch down in this hole and he saw this terrifying dragon with seven heads; and all these heads were talking to each other and answering each other and even quarreling with each other and insulting each other - well, you know dragons haven't got any manners, and what manners they've got are all bad ones.  And down in the corner of this cave, just like the old woman said, there was this lovely maiden crying and covering her ears so as she wouldn't have to hear these dragon's heads shouting at each other. 

            " 'Oi, you,' Vokoun called out at this dragon, polite enough he was, but with the authority that a policeman should have, 'let's see your ID card!  Got any papers have you?: residence permit, work record, army discharge papers, any other documents?'  At this, one of the dragon's heads sniggered, one of them swore, one of them blasphemed, one of them shouted, one of them told Vokoun off, one of them insulted him and one of them stuck out his tongue at him.  But Vokoun wasn't put off by this, and he called out, 'In the name of the law, get your things together and come with me to the station, you and that girl there behind you!'

            "One of the dragon's heads blew a raspberry at PC. Vokoun.  'Do you know who I am, you human fool?' it asked.  'I am Huldabord the dragon.'

            " 'Huldabord, from the mountains of Granada,' said another of the heads.

            " 'Also known as the Great Dragon of Mulhacen,' a third head shouted at him.

            " 'And I'm going to eat you up,' snarled a fourth head, 'just like a strawberry.'

            " 'I shall tear you in half like a piece of bacon, and then I shall rip you into little pieces, into crumbs, into dust, into mishmash, so that you will have to be swept up like a heap of sawdust,' bellowed a fifth head at him. 

            " 'And then I shall break your neck,' thundered a sixth.

            " 'And then you can be fed to the birds,' concluded the seventh head in a voice that would fill anyone with terror. 

            "Well lads, what do you think Vokoun did when he heard this?  Think he was frightened?  Not a bit of it!  He saw he couldn't be friendly about this dragon, so he got his truncheon out and hit each of those dragon's heads one after the other for as long as he still had the strength to do it, and he's got plenty of strength, that Vokoun.

            " 'Well I never,' said the first head, 'he isn't bad, is he!'

            " 'He even made top of my head itch,' said the second.

            " 'It felt as if a flea bit the back of my neck,' said the third.

            " 'Go on, love,' said the fourth, 'tickle me with that stick again!'

            " 'But do it harder this time,' the fifth advised, 'let's feel it properly.'

            " 'And a bit more to the left,' the sixth head requested, 'I've got this terrible itch just there.'

            " 'I think that stick of yours is a bit soft,' said the seventh, 'haven't you got anything a bit harder?'

            "At this, Vokoun pulled out his sword and struck once on each of the seven heads so that their scales would rattle.

            " 'Now that was a bit better this time,' said the first dragon's head.

            " 'You've cut the ear off one of my fleas, at least,' said the second head gratefully, 'I think these fleas of mine must be made of iron.'

            " 'And you've trimmed off that hair of mine that kept on tickling,' the third one told him.

            " 'That's tidied up my hair quite nicely,' the fourth head thanked him. 

            " 'You can scratch me with that toy of yours any day,' the fifth one purred.

            " 'But I didn't even feel it any more than a feather,' the sixth one said.

            " 'Oh you are a dear boy,' said the seventh head, 'tickle me just one more time, go on!'

            "PC. Vokoun pulled out his service revolver and shot seven times, once into each of the seven heads.

            " 'Oh dear,' exclaimed the dragon.  'Don't throw that sand at me.  It'll all get in my hair!  I've even got some little bits of it in my eye, and there's some got stuck between my teeth too!  That's enough now, I've had enough of this,' the dragon snarled.  Then he cleared all seven of his throats and all seven sets of jaws erupted with a blast of fire against PC. Vokoun.

            "Vokoun wasn't put off by this; he drew out his copy of police regulations and read what he was supposed to do when faced with a superior force.  He read that in a case such as this he was to summon reinforcements.  Then he looked up what he was supposed to do when somebody belched fire at him and saw that when that happened he was to call the fire brigade.  In this way he read through all the instructions about what he was supposed to do and then he called for the fire brigade and police reinforcements.  Six of our colleagues ran up in response to his call; there were Rabas, Matas, Kudláš, Firbas, Holas and me.  Then Vokoun said to us, 'We've got to free this lass from the grasp of this dragon, lads.  I know he's well armoured, and there's not a sabre anywhere that's any good against him, but I've noticed that there's a place at the back of his neck where the armour's a bit softer so that he can move his heads.  So when I count up to three, you've all got to thrust your swords in at the back of his neck.  Only, let's wait till the fire brigade gets here first, so that they can squirt water on him so that we don't get our uniforms scorched.'  And he'd hardly finished saying this when seven fire engines arrived sounding their seven sirens and with seven firemen on board. 

 

            " 'Now you pay attention, firemen,' called the gallant Vokoun, 'when I count up to three, each of you squirt water at each of the dragon's heads.  You've got to get the water right down into his throats where the tonsils are 'cause that's where the fire comes out.  Ready now; one, two three!'  And as soon as he'd said 'three', the seven firemen shot seven jets of water straight into the seven dragon's throats and put out the fires with a loud hiss and splutter.  The dragon snorted and grunted and shook his head, he coughed and winced and swore, he scowled and thundered and fumed and cried out 'Mummy!' and thrashed about with his tail, but the firemen did not stop squirting the water at him until those seven heads, instead of gushing flame, just billowed steam like a locomotive and nobody could even see because there was so much of it.  Then that steam began to be less thick and the firemen stopped squirting their water, blew their horns and went home.  The dragon, wet and limp, just snorted, spat, wiped the water from his eyes and grumbled, 'Just you wait, I won't forgive you for this!'  But then Vokoun called out, 'Attention lads, one, two, three!'  And on the count of three all of us policemen thrust our swords into the backs of the dragon's seven necks and there were seven dragon heads rolling on the ground while water gushed out of the seven necks like fire hydrants.

            " 'Now then,' said Vokoun to the princess, 'you mind you don't get your clothes wet.'

            " 'Oh thank you,' said the young lady, 'you are my hero, you have bravely saved me from the clutches of that dragon.  I was just playing volleyball and football and hide-and-seek with my friends in a park in Murcia when this fat old dragon flew down and carried me all the way here without stopping.'

            " 'And what way were you taken then, miss?' asked Vokoun.

            " 'We flew over Algiers and Malta and Constantinople and Belgrade and Vienna and across Czechoslovakia without stopping once and it took us thirty-two hours seventeen minutes and five seconds exactly,' said the princess. 

            " 'That dragon broke the record for flying long distance with a passenger then,' said Vokoun admiringly.  'Congratulations, miss.  But now I'd better send a telegram to your father so that he can send someone to come and get you.'

            "He had hardly finished saying that when a car screeched to a halt beside them and out jumped the king of Murcia with a crown on his head and dressed all in ermine and began to jump up and down on one leg in joy and said, 'My darling girl, at last I've found you!'

            " 'Hold on a second, your majesty,' Vokoun interrupted him.  'You were driving that car much too fast through our streets, and so now you've got to pay a fine of seven crowns!'

            "The king of Murcia began to grope round in his pockets and said, with some irritation, 'Oh how stupid of me, I brought seven hundred doubloons, piastres and ducats, one thousand pesetas, three thousand and six hundred francs, three hundred talers, eight hundred and twenty marks and one thousand two hundred and sixteen Czechoslovak crowns and twenty five hellers, and now I can't find anything in my pockets, not a trace, not a jot, not a sausage.  I must have spent it all on the way on petrol and on fines for driving too fast.  Officer, I'll send you one of my ministers with those seven crowns.'  And then the king of Murcia cleared his throat, put his hand on his breast and stepped over to where Vokoun was standing.  'I can see from you uniform and from your noble appearance that you must be a powerful warrior, a prince, or even a state official.  In return for having freed my daughter from the terrible dragon I really ought to offer you her hand in marriage, but I see you have a wedding ring on your left hand and must therefore be already married.  Do you have any children?'

            " 'I have,' said Vokoun.  'I've got one boy, three years old, and a little girl still in nappies.' 

            " 'Congratulations,' said the king of Murcia.  'I have the daughter you see here.  Tell you what, I'll give you at least half of my kingdom in Murcia.  That's roughly seventy thousand, four hundred and fifty nine square kilometres of land with seven thousand one hundred and five kilometres of railways, twenty thousand kilometres of roads and twenty-two million seven hundred and fifty thousand and nine thousands and eleven subjects of both sexes.  What do you think of that, do we have a deal.?'

            " 'Your majesty,' Vokoun replied, 'there are some serious problems about that.  My colleagues and I killed this dragon because it was our duty.  We can't accept any kind of reward for doing what was only our duty, certainly not!  That is strictly forbidden.'

            " 'Oh, I see,' said the king.  'But maybe I could give half of my kingdom, with all the roads and railways and people in it, to the Prague police force as a whole, in recognition of my gratitude.'

            " 'Well that might be alright, I suppose,' thought Vokoun, 'but there are still some serious problems.  We've already got the whole of Prague to look after and you'd be surprised how much work all that walking about and watching things is.  It's really all that we can manage, and if, on top of that, we had half of the Kingdom of Murcia to look after we'd be running about all the time and it wouldn't half make our feet ache.  No, thanks very much your majesty, but Prague is already big enough for us.'

            " 'Then could I at least give you this bag of tobacco that I brought with me for the journey?' said the king of Murcia.  It's genuine Murcian tobacco and there's enough here for seven pipefuls as long as you don't pack it in too tightly.  Come on then, daughter, jump in the car and let's go.'   And once the dust had blown away - and that king didn't half make a lot of dust as he drove off - me and Rabas and Holas and Matas and Kudláš and Firbas and Vokoun, we all went back to the station and filled our pipes with that tobacco from Murcia.  And what tobacco it was, I'd never smoked tobacco like it in me life; it wasn't all that strong but the aroma of it was like honey, like vanilla, like good tea, like cinammon, like incense, like carnations, like bananas, only 'cause our pipes stank of old tobacco we couldn't really taste it.  They were going to put that dragon in the museum, but before they had the chance to go round and pick him up he'd turned into a sort of slime because he'd got so soaking wet.  And that's as much as I know."

            After PC Kubát had finished his story about the dragon by the Jewish bakeries all the policemen sat in silence as they smoked their pipes; they were probably thinking about that tobacco from Murcia.  Then PC Choděra spoke; "Now that Kubát has told us about the dragon they found up in Žižkov, maybe you'd like to hear about the one that was in Vojtěch Street.  I was walking up that street one day and all of a sudden I sees this enormous egg down in a corner by the church.  This egg was so enormous it wouldn't have even fitted inside me helmet, and it was so heavy it could have been made of marble.   'What's this then?' I says to meself, 'a muddy ostrich egg or something?'  So I picks it up and brings it round to police headquarters where they've got the lost and found department, cause maybe, with an egg like that, its owner might have told them he'd lost it.  It was PC Pour who ran that department in them days and just then his lumbago was getting bad, so he'd been stoking up the old iron stove with lots of wood and it was hot as an oven in there, hot as a furnace, hot as a kiln for baking pots in there it was.  'Cor limey, Pour,' says I, 'I think you must be the Devil's grandma, you've got it so hot in here!  Anywhere I've come here  to tell you I found this egg in Vojtěch Street.'

            " 'Put it down somewhere then,' says Pour.  'Find yourself a seat and I'll write it down.  I'm really suffering with this lumbago.'  So we sat and had a bit of a chat, like you do, and just as it was starting to get dark we hear this scrunching scratching noise down in the corner.  So we put the lights on and go over to have a look and there was this dragon crawling out of the egg - must have been hatching because of all that heat in there.  Can't have been bigger than something like a poodle or a fox-terrier, but it was a dragon alright, we could see that 'cause it had seven heads, and that's how you recognise a dragon.

            " 'Cheese and mice!' says Pour, ' what we goin'to with this thing now then?  Think I'd better call the knacker's yard, see if they know what to do with it to keep it under control.'

            " 'Hold on, Pour,' says I, 'they're very rare animals these dragons, you know.  What if we put an advert in the paper and see if the owner replies.'

            " 'Well, alright then,' says Pour, 'but what am I supposed to feed it on till he does?  Could try giving it bits of bread soaked in milk, I suppose; milk's always the best thing for the young of any animal.'

            "So Pour got these seven bread rolls and tore them into bits that he soaked in seven litres of milk, and you should have seen how this dragon lapped it up!  Each of the seven heads tried to push the other heads out the way and all of them purred and licked up the milk till they'd made a mess of the whole office, then, one after the other, each head licked itself clean and settled down to sleep.  Then Pour shut the dragon up in the office where they put all the things that have been lost anywhere in Prague, and put this advert in the paper:

 

Dragon puppy, freshly hatched from egg, found in Vojtěch Street. 

Seven heads, yellow with black stripes. 

Can be reclaimed by owner at police headquarters, lost property department.

 

            "When Pour got into the office the next morning, all he said was, ‘What the …, how the … when did … oh my no, oh dear lord, thousand thunders, on my soul’.  Overnight, that dragon had eaten everything that anyone had lost in the whole of Prague; rings, watches, purses, wallets, notebooks, balls and pencils, cases and holders, schoolbooks and tennis balls, buttons and blueprints and books, and as well as all the things people had lost it had eaten the official registers, documents, forms and record sheets and in short everything that had been in Pour's office.  It had even eaten Pour's pipe, the coal shovel and the ruler he used to draw straight lines in his registers.  That dragon had eaten so much that now it had grown quite big and some of its heads were hurting. 

            " 'I'm not having this!' said Pour, 'I can't leave this animal here if this is what it's going to do to me office!'  So he telephoned the Society for the Protection of Animals to see if they could look after this dragon pup like they do with runaway dogs and cats.  'I don't see why not', said the man at the Society for the Protection of Animals, and he took the dragon away to look after it at the society's shelter.  But then the man at the Society for the Protection of Animals began to wonder what it was that dragons lived on.  there was nothing about it in the handbook, so he tried feeding the dragon with milk, with sausages, with salami, with eggs, with carrots, with porridge, with chocolate, with goose's blood, with peas, with hay, with soup, with corn, with chippolatas, with tomatoes, with rice, with bread, with sugar, with potatoes, and the dragon swallowed the lot, and then ate books, newspapers, pictures, door handles and everything else the man could find, and it grew so fast that by now it was already bigger than a St. Bernard dog. 

            "Then the Society for the Protection of Animals got this telegram all the way from Bucharest, and in this telegram it said in black and white:

 

THE DRAGON PUPPY IS A HUMAN BEING UNDER A CURSE STOP

ARRIVE MAIN STATION IN THREE HUNDRED YEARS TIME STOP

BOSKO THE MAGICIAN

 

            "Well when the man in the Society for the Protection of Animals heard this he scratched the back of his head and he said, 'Oh, oh, oh, if this dragon is really someone under a curse that means it's a human being and we can't keep it here in the animal home.  We'll have to send it to the foundling hospital or the orphanage.'  But then the foundling hospital and the orphanage, they both said, 'Oh, oh, oh, if this is a human being turned by a magic spell into an animal it isn't really a human being, it's an animal, because it's been turned into an animal by a magic spell.  So this person under a spell isn't our responsibility, it belongs in the animal home.'  And they kept on squabbling about whether a man turned into an animal is more human or more animal because neither of them wanted to take it, and the poor dragon didn't know where it belonged.  It became all sad and stopped eating, especially the third, fifth and seventh heads.  The man in the Society for the Protection of Animals, he was quite a small and thin man, as inconspicuous and as modest as an empty husk he was.  His name started with 'N' I think, 'Nováček' or 'Nerad' or 'Nohejl' or something; no, hold on, 'Mr. Trutina', that was it.  Now when Mr. Trutina saw how the dragon was so sad that one head after another was getting ill with it, he said to the other members of the society, 'Gentlemen, whether it's a human being or an animal, I'll take this dragon home with me and look after it just like it should be.'

            "So all the people at the Society for the Protection of Animals said 'Hooray!', and when Mr. Trutina went home that night he took the dragon with him.

            "And to give him his due, he took care of that dragon just the way it should be; he fed it and groomed it and stroked it every day.  This Mr. Trutina was very fond of animals and every night when he got back home from work he'd take the dragon out for a walk so that it would get some exercise, and this dragon used to jump about all round like a dog it did, and it wagged its tail and answered to the name of 'Amina'.  One night when he was out he came across Mr. Pohodný, who said to him, 'Dear me, Mr. Trutina, what sort of animal is that that you have with you?  Is it some kind of hunting animal or wild cat or some kind of wild beast? I really don't think you ought to be leading it about the streets with you.  Or even if it's just a dog you really ought to buy a license for it to hang around its neck.'  'This is a very rare breed of dog, Mr. Pohodný,' Mr. Trutina replied.  'It's called a dragoman pincer, or a dinohound or a seven-headed dog, that's right isn't it, Amina!  You needn't worry, Mr. Pohodný, I'll make sure I get a license for her.'  So Mr. Trutina bought the dragon a dog license even though it cost him every last penny he had, poor man.  And then he met Mr. Pohodný again one night, who said, 'Now now, Mr. Trutina, this really isn't good enough, you know, your dog has seven heads and that means it needs to have a license to hang around each of its seven necks.  It says quite clearly in the regulations that every dog needs to have a license to hang around its neck.'  'But Mr. Pohodný,' Mr. Trutina defended himself, 'Amina does have a license on her middle neck!'  'That makes no difference,' Mr. Pohodný insisted, 'all the other heads are running about without a license and we can't allow that sort of thing.  The council will have to take the dog off you.'  'Oh please, Mr. Pohodný,' Mr. Trutina replied, 'give me just three more days and I'll make sure I get these licenses for Amina.'  And then Mr. Trutina went home, and he was very sad 'cause he didn't have any money left to buy any more licenses. 

 

            "He went home, and he sat down, and he was almost in tears 'cause he thought Mr. Pohodný was going to take his Amina away from him and sell her into the circus or kill her.  And as he sat there worrying, the dragon came up to him and put all seven heads on his lap and looked up at him with these beautiful sad eyes; well any animal's got nice eyes, almost human eyes, when it looks up at a person with love and trust.  'I won't let you go, Amina,' said Mr. Trutina, and he stroked the dragon on all seven of her heads;  then he took the watch his father had left him and his best shoes and his best clothes and he sold the lot of them.  Then he went and borrowed money on top of that so that he could take all the money and buy these six dog licences that he hung on each of the dragon's necks.  And after that, when they went out on the street, all these dog licences would jingle and chink, just like they were going out on a sleigh with its bells ringing. 

            "That same evening, though, Mr. Trutina's landlord knocked on his door and said, 'Mr. Trutina, I'm a bit worried about this dog of yours.  I'm not all that fond of dogs at the best of times, but there are people saying that it's actually a dragon and I can't put up with that now, can I.'  'But Amina hasn't caused any harm to anyone,' said Mr. Trutina.  'That makes no difference,' said the landlord, 'dragons don't belong in a respectable house, and that's that.  If you don't get rid of it then I'm giving you notice to leave by the end of the month.  Good day to you, Mr. Trutina.'  And he slammed the door behind him as he left.  'Now see what's happened, Amina,' Mr. Trutina lamented.  'Now, on top of everything else, we're going to have to find somewhere else to live; but I won't give you up.'  The dragon came up to him, very slowly and quietly and her eyes shone so beautifully that Mr. Trutina couldn't stand it.  'You know I love you, don't you Amina.'  The next day when he went into the bank where he worked he was still worried, and then the manager called him in to his office.  'Mr. Trutina,' said his boss, 'your private affairs are, of course, non of my business, but I've been hearing some strange stories about you keeping a dragon at home.  I remind you that none of your superiors keep a dragon at home.  A dragon is something that a king or a sultan might choose to keep, but it is something for ordinary people such as yourself.  Mr. Trutina, it seems you are living above your means, and unless you get rid of this dragon I will be giving you notice from the first of next month.'  'No, sir,' said Mr. Trutina quietly but firmly, 'I won't give Amina away.'  And he went home more upset than I'm capable of describing. 

 

            "Back home he sat in his chair like a body without a soul and tears began to fall from his eyes.  'That's it then, I've had it,' he said, and started to cry.  Then he felt the dragon as she put one of her heads on his knee; he couldn't even see her through his tears but he stroked her and he whispered, 'Don't worry, Amina, I won't let anyone take you away.'  And as he stroked her he began to think that the head seemed sort of soft and seemed to have hair on it.  He wiped his eyes and had a proper look, and he saw that instead of a dragon kneeling in front of him there was a beautiful young woman resting her chin on his knee and looking sweetly into his eyes.  'What's happened,' he cried, 'what's happened to Amina?'  'I'm Princess Amina,' said the young woman.  'Until now I've been under a curse that had turned me into a dragon because I used to be so proud and spiteful.  But from now on, Mr. Trutina, I'll be as good as an lamb.'

            "Someone at the door said, 'Amen', and there stood Bosko the magician.  'You have set her free, Mr. Trutina.  Love will always set someone free from a curse, be a human being or an animal.  You see how everything has turned out well, my child!  Mr. Trutina, this young lady's father has given orders that you are now to be taken into his kingdom where you will ascend the throne.  So come along - we don't want to miss the train!'

            "So that's the end of the story about this dragon they found in Vojtěch Street," PC. Choděra concluded.  "And if you don't believe me you can ask Pour about it."