Once upon a time, in the heart of the Dragon Valley, lived a dragon named Daisy. Now, most dragons of the Middle Ages were fierce and terrorizing creatures, known to breathe fire and keep princesses locked in towers. But Daisy was quite the opposite. She had scales that shimmered like dewdrops in the morning sun and eyes as blue as the summer sky. Instead of roaring, she preferred to hum soft melodies that floated through the valley like whispers of the wind. Her heart was pure, and all she wished for was to be loved.
As the winter approached one year, the villagers from the nearby town began to worry. The crops had failed, and the river had frozen too early in the year. Misery spread among the townsfolk as they realized they might not survive the winter without supplies from their farms. They held meetings daily, discussing how to overcome their plight, and in one of those meetings, old Mr. Thompson, the baker, said, “If only we had a friend in Dragon Valley. Perhaps they could help us.”
Daisy, being kind-hearted, had been watching from a distance, listening to their conversations. As the first snow began to fall, she knew that she must act. So, with a heavy heart full of hope, she decided to visit the village. Maybe they would accept her and understand her kind intentions.
As she approached the village, the sky darkened, and lightning flashed. The ground trembled, and heavy winds blew. Daisy’s scaly skin glistened in the flash of lightning, and the villagers gasped when they saw her figure. Fear gripped their hearts; they ran indoors, locking bolts and latching shutters. Daisy merely laughed – or at least it was intended to be a laugh – but to the villagers, it sounded like a roar that shook the shutters.
“What shall we do?” exclaimed Mrs. Robinson, who was cooking supper. “The dragon is upon us!”
“We must drive it away,” shouted a man from the middle of the street. He rushed indoors and came out carrying a pail of water. The other villagers stared at him as he stood on the well-curbing. “Stand back, friends!” he yelled, “and I will drive the monster away!”
He aimed carefully and poured the pail of water straight over Daisy’s curly-tipped tail. “Hurt her, I am sure!” laughed the dragon. But the villagers did not see the tail. They all fled in terror, except for Billy, the little schoolboy, who stood crying on the pavement.
“Come here, little boy!” said Daisy gently, putting her crumpled wing around him. She had quite forgotten about the rain.
When the villagers saw Billy beneath the dragon’s wing, peeping out through the fingers of his hand, they were amazed. Children and animals are usually the best judges of character. Slowly and cautiously, they all ventured forth, their hearts still beating violently with fear.
“Billy is all right,” said his father. “This dragon won’t eat him. Let us see what she wants.” So, they all stood around and waited.
“I am Daisy, Queen of Dragons,” said the creature. “Please, ma’am,” began Mr. Robinson, bowing politely, “what do you please want, Miss Daisy, Queen of the Dragons?”
Daisy smiled, showing two rows of magnificent white teeth. “I heard you would lack a good dinner this winter,” she said. “I want to offer my help. You all think I am very fierce – I will not eat you, nor any of your cattle if you really will be my friends. Besides, you can come and visit me in Dragon Valley, and when spring comes, if you continue my friends, I shall be able to lend you charming little ponies who will be of great assistance to you,” she concluded.
The villagers were speechless with joy. “Let us first see if it is true,” said old Mr. Thompson, the baker, shaking Daisy’s hand. They were soon convinced that her promise was a good one. The next morning, when the villagers sent a cart into the valley with invitations to visit and a good supper for Daisy, they were surprised instead to find loads of sugar-beets and heaps of turnips and plenty of corn to last the winter.
Daisy visited them more often than they went to see her. She used to fly to them every Sunday morning, and in the evening, all the children, who had never before sat upon a dragon’s back, took turns in flying round the village. How the box-hedges, the old mill, and the church spire did look!
Mr. Robinson used to sit on his garden-wall and talk very seriously with her. He had written an account of their friendship to the King, who sent him a very polite letter, saying how glad he was to hear of it, and that he had heard Daisy was not like any other dragon. He also added, as a personal remark, that if Mrs. Robinson would come to court, together with Mr. Robinson and all the children, he would have four pretty little ponies appointed by his own daughter, the Princess Morgana, to be sent to Dragon Valley, where they could pay long visits to Daisy under the care of their parents, the Robinsons. Daisy was not a bit jealous when she heard this, but, on the contrary, flew off with Mr. Robinson and children to fetch the handsome new ponies. Afterward, she frequently paid long visits, and every day she sat on Mrs. Robinson’s doorstep and told her of her travels; so that the villagers were obliged to hold up their heads higher than anyone else, for no one else had a dragon who visited their town.
If ever a little girl or boy did anything wrong, all that they had to do to mend matters was to say they were sorry, and shed a few tears, tell Daisy about it, and ask her to intercede for them; and, wonder of wonders! the moment she turned her back, every bit of naughtiness burned away. But perhaps the top extravagance of all was a friendly visit that took place one Monday morning between our own Royal Family and Daisy.
So it was quite a wonderful fairy tale and most enchanting romances for little human beings, that in the most reliable way one could ever dream possible, all took place in Dragon Valley during that long winter and spring.
At last the nine children of Mr. Robinson all rode home safely on their ponies. Then the first thing he got Miss Daisy to do was to promise to come regularly every Saturday night for his loaf of bread. Before taking her departure, she begged to be allowed to present to Mrs. Robinson the finest basket of corn she could find. This old Mr. Robinson allowed and proposed to keep a hen and chickens from it in his garden, where Dame Robinson could always be pleased to visit them.
“Certainly!” said Mrs. Robinson and Mr. Robinson. “It will remind us of our dear friend Daisy.” And they never forgot her.