The last dragon

The Story

The adventure begins on a spring Saturday in a meadow that serves as a makeshift kingdom for three children: Peter, Johnathan, and Janet Jane. While playing a game of chivalry under the watchful eye of a self-appointed "King," they venture into the mysterious, shadowy woodlot. What begins as a mock quest to slay a make-believe beast turns into a genuine discovery when they encounter a real, living dragon. Far from being a fire-breathing monster, this dragon is a melancholy creature suffering from indigestion—a relic of a bygone age who is delighted to find children who treat him not with terror, but with kindness.

The children attempt to hide their new friend in their nursery, a plan that immediately draws the attention of Grandma Baxter. Far from the typical adult who would dismiss such a thing as nonsense, Grandma is a woman of secret depths, accompanied by a rocking chair that arrived on the Mayflower and possesses a voice of its own. She recognizes the dragon as a fellow traveler in the realm of the extraordinary and helps the children shield the creature from their mother’s skepticism.

Under the cover of a bright, moonlit night, the true nature of their journey is revealed. Grandma, knitting bag in hand, joins the children and the dragon as they depart the nursery, flying through the window to traverse a landscape that shifts from the familiar countryside into the terrain of legend. They ride the dragon across vast distances, eventually arriving at a volcanic crater where the dragon seeks solace and relief from his ailments. Here, they encounter Crubby, a diminutive gnome with a sharp tongue and a penchant for discipline, who informs them of a dire situation: a princess named Silver Toes has been stolen by an evil, lonesome witch and is being kept in a state of enchanted sleep.

The group’s journey takes them through an armorer’s shop where they are fitted for steel, and eventually to a fairground teeming with mountebanks and magic. Peter, showing unexpected bravery, becomes entangled in the machinations of Mig, a manipulative magician who holds the secret to the princess’s location. Through a series of clever ruses—including swapping identities with a fellow boy named Riggy and using his wits to outmaneuver the magician—Peter succeeds in unlocking the box where the princess is hidden. Upon opening it, he discovers not a maiden, but another, shrunken dragon named Dallahan, who has been magically diminished by the magician’s cruelty.

As the two dragons reunite, they begin to grow back to their original stature, shedding the effects of the witch’s and magician’s dark spells. The recovered Princess Silver Toes is restored, and the entire troupe, having successfully navigated the perils of the Middle Ages, begins the journey back home. As they approach the woodlot, the world shifts back to the mundane reality of a Sunday morning. They find themselves returned to the cave in the woods, the grand armor and dragons fading away as they slip back into their nightgowns. When their father later dismisses their stories as mere "imagination," the children and Grandma share a knowing smile, content in the secret that the footprint left in the mud is far more than a dream.

The People

• Peter: The youngest of the children, he is characterized by his "tiger ferocity" and a persistent, earnest bravery. He transitions from a boy playing with a wooden sword to a true knight who navigates the complexities of magic and successfully rescues the enchanted princess.
• Grandma Baxter: A formidable, independent woman who refuses to be constrained by age or conventional wisdom. She acts as the bridge between the children’s world and the magical one, offering guidance and a calm, authoritative presence that even magical creatures and grumpy gnomes respect.
• The Dragon: A gentle, indigestion-prone creature who has grown weary of the terror he is expected to inspire. He yearns for companionship and "big, splendid things," ultimately finding redemption and purpose through his bond with the children and the restoration of his friend, Dallahan.
• Crubby: A small, irritable gnome who serves as a taskmaster for the dragon. He is defined by his high-strung nature and his insistence on discipline, yet he proves to be an essential ally in the quest to undo the enchantments of the witch and the magician.
• Mig the Magician: An antagonist defined by his greed and his desire to possess beauty for his own amusement. He stands in opposition to the children’s spontaneity, representing the cold, transactional nature of those who would exploit magic rather than live within it.

In Its Own Voice

The dragon reflects on the loss of his fearsome reputation, revealing the loneliness that comes with being a creature of a different time:

“Look at them running from me, just like old times,” he said, with the slightest touch of pride in his voice; and then in a tone tinged with melancholy, “If they only knew.”

Grandma Baxter defies the expectations of the children’s mother, asserting her own authority to protect the dragon:

“Don’t be nonsensical, Kate!” she snapped, standing on her tiptoes. “The children are perfectly safe. It’s an adorable dragon.”

The dragon, having been restored after his confinement in the magician’s box, expresses his newfound resolve to leave his life of petty thievery behind:

“I want to do big and splendid things. No more thieving--no more petty fighting for me.”

What It's Really About

At its core, this narrative explores the tension between the clinical, skeptical eye of adulthood and the expansive, receptive nature of childhood. The father’s dismissal of the children's experience as "the greatest lot of nonsense" serves as the primary conflict, not just against the plot, but against the very idea of wonder. The book argues that imagination is not a flight from reality, but a way of seeing the world more clearly. The "magic" is not an external force that must be imported, but a quality that exists in the woodlot, the snail, the grasshopper, and the ladybug, waiting for someone to pay attention.

The theme of the "last dragon" is particularly poignant. He is a symbol of a dying era—a creature of myth struggling to adapt to a world that no longer believes in him. His indigestion and his desire for peppermints are humorous, but they also highlight his vulnerability; he is an ancient, powerful entity being forced to navigate a world of small, petty human concerns. By finding a home with the children and Grandma, he is granted a second life. He discovers that his value is not in his ability to spread terror, but in his capacity for connection and his willingness to participate in "big and splendid things."

Furthermore, the book tackles the idea of captivity versus freedom. Both the princess and the second dragon, Dallahan, are held in boxes, diminished by those who wish to possess or exploit them. The act of "unlocking" these figures is presented not as a mere mechanical task, but as a moral one. It requires the courage to move past the surface—to see the princess behind the enchantments and the dragon within the shrunken, miserable form. The story suggests that we are all, to some extent, prone to becoming "shrunken" or "soft" when we succumb to the cynicism of the world or allow ourselves to be put in a box. The path back to one’s true self requires, as the dragon tells Dallahan, the refusal to stay small and the determination to reach for something greater. It is an argument for the necessity of keeping one's sense of mystery alive, even when the rest of the world insists that magic is just a story.

Why Read It Today

Readers who appreciate stories where the boundary between play and reality is porous will find this book deeply rewarding. It carries the distinct, whimsical charm of 1920s juvenile fantasy, characterized by a brisk, rhythmic prose style and a delightful disregard for the heavy-handed moralizing found in other literature of the period. The experience of reading it feels much like an afternoon spent in an attic; it is dusty, slightly eccentric, and full of hidden treasures.

You will encounter some period-specific attitudes—the portrayal of a "King" and his "Queen," for instance, reflects the social structures of the time in which it was written. While the children’s dialogue is earnest and clean, the world they inhabit is one of strict, traditional roles. Modern readers may find the pacing quite rapid; the transition from the nursery to the volcanic crater happens with the speed of a dream, which might feel jarring if one is accustomed to the detailed world-building of contemporary fantasy. However, this lack of hesitation is exactly what makes the book work. It does not waste time justifying its magic; it simply proceeds as if the dragon’s existence is the most natural thing in the world.

What stays with you is the relationship between the children and Grandma Baxter. She is a wonderful, subversive figure who validates the children’s curiosity rather than stifling it. She reminds us that the ability to perceive the "velvet sounds" of nature—the talk of snails and ladybugs—is a skill that doesn't have to be abandoned in adulthood. If you are looking for a story that treats children as capable adventurers and honors the secret, internal lives they lead, this book offers a quiet, sincere refuge. It is a brief, sturdy reminder that the world remains full of potential for those who are willing to look, and that sometimes, the most important thing you can know is exactly what you have seen, regardless of who believes you.