Tales From Moominvalley by Tove Jansson Read Free Book Online

everybody except Snufkin, and every time it became cross at anything it burned a hole somewhere.
    'What a sweetie-pie,' said the Snork Maiden. 'What's its name?'
    'Nothing special,' Moomintroll mumbled. 'It's just a dragon.'
    He let his paw warily crawl across the table until it touched one of the little gilded legs. At once the dragon whirled around, hissed at him and blew a small cloud of smoke.
    'How sweet!' the Snork Maiden cried.
    The dragon ran over to Snufkin's pipe that was lying at the table, and sniffed at the bowl. Where it had sat was a round brown-edged hole in the table cloth.
    'I wonder if it can burn through oilcloth too,' Moominmamma said.
    'Naturally,' said little My. 'Just wait until it's grown a bit. It'll burn down the house for us.'
    She grabbed a piece of cake, and the dragon rushed at her like a small golden fury and bit her in the paw.
    'You d... d spider!' cried My, and slapped at the dragon with her napkin.
    'If you say things like that you'll never go to heaven,' the Mymble started instantly, but Moomintroll cut her short with a cry:
    'It wasn't the dragon's fault! He thought you wanted the fly that was sitting on the cake.'
    'You and your dragon!' cried My, whose paw was really hurting badly. 'It isn't yours even, it's Snufkin's, because it likes only him!'
    There was a silence.
    'Did I hear the small fry squeak,' said Snufkin and rose from the table. 'A few hours more and it'll know where it belongs. Well. Be off. Fly to master!'
    But the dragon had settled on Snufkin's shoulder again and clung to it with all six clawed paws, purring all the while like a sewing machine. Snufkin picked it up between thumb and forefinger and put it under the tea-cosy. Then he opened the glass door and went out into the garden.
    'Oh, he'll suffocate,' Moomintroll said and lifted the tea-cosy half an inch off the table. The dragon came out like lightning, flew straight to the window and sat there staring after Snufkin, with its paws against the pane. After a little while it began to whine, and its golden colour turned to grey from neck to tail.
    'Dragons,' Moominpappa broke the silence, 'disappeared from public consciousness about seventy years ago. I've looked them up in the encyclopaedia. The last

    to keep alive was the emotional species with strong combustion. They are most stubborn and never change their mind about anything...'
    'Thanks for the tea,' Moomintroll said and rose from the table. 'I'm going upstairs.'
    'Darling, shall we leave your dragon here on the verandah?' Moominmamma asked. 'Or are you taking it along with you?'
    Moomintroll didn't reply.
    He went to the door and opened it. There was a flash as the dragon swished past him, and the Snork Maiden cried:
    'Oh! You won't catch it again! Why did you? I hadn't even looked at it properly yet!'
    'Go and look for Snufkin,' Moomintroll said between clenched teeth. 'It will be sitting on his shoulder.'
    'My darling,' Moominmamma said sadly. 'My little troll.'
    *
    Snufkin had barely got his fishing line baited when the dragon came buzzing and settled on his knee. It nearly tied itself into knots from delight at having found him.
    'Well, this is a pretty kettle,' Snufkin said and whisked the creature away. 'Shoo. Be off with you. Go home!'
    But of course he knew it was no use. The dragon would never leave him. And for all he knew it could live a hundred years.
    Snufkin looked a little sadly at the small shining creature that was doing all it could to attract his attention.
    'Yes, you're nice,' he said. 'Yes, it would be fun to have you along. But, don't you see, there's Moomintroll...'
    The dragon yawned. It flew to his ragged hat brim and curled up to sleep on it. Snufkin sighed and cast his line into the river. His new float bobbed in the current, shining brightly red. He knew that Moomintroll wouldn't like fishing today. The Groke take it all...
    The hours went by.
    The little dragon flew off and caught some flies and returned to sleep on the hat. Snufkin