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"
Well
done
.
That
’
s
the
cobbs
,
of
course
.
The
hens
are
a
bit
smaller
.
"
Captain
Vimes
wasn
’
t
going
to
give
in
.
"
A
cobb
would
be
a
male
dragon
?
"
he
said
.
"
Only
after
the
age
of
two
years
,
"
said
Lady
Ramkin
triumphantly
.
"
Up
to
the
age
of
eight
months
he
’
s
a
pewmet
,
then
he
’
s
a
cock
until
fourteen
months
,
and
then
he
’
s
a
snood
-
"
Captain
Vimes
sat
entranced
,
eating
the
horrible
cake
,
britches
gradually
dissolving
,
as
the
stream
of
information
flooded
over
him
;
how
the
males
fought
with
flame
but
in
the
laying
season
only
the
hens
*
breathed
fire
,
from
the
combustion
of
complex
intestinal
gases
,
to
incubate
the
eggs
which
needed
such
a
fierce
temperature
,
while
the
males
gathered
firewood
;
a
group
of
swamp
dragons
was
a
slump
or
an
embarrassment
;
a
female
was
capable
of
laying
up
to
three
clutches
of
four
eggs
every
year
,
most
of
which
were
trodden
on
by
absent
-
minded
males
;
and
that
dragons
"
Only
until
their
third
clutch
,
of
course
.
After
that
they
’
re
dams
.
of
both
sexes
were
vaguely
uninterested
in
one
another
,
and
indeed
everything
except
firewood
,
except
for
about
once
every
two
months
when
they
became
as
single
-
minded
as
a
buzzsaw
.
He
was
helpless
to
prevent
himself
being
taken
out
to
the
kennels
at
the
back
,
outfitted
from
neck
to
ankle
in
leather
armour
faced
with
steel
plates
,
and
ushered
into
the
long
low
building
where
the
whistling
had
come
from
.
The
temperature
was
terrible
,
but
not
as
bad
as
the
cocktail
of
smells
.
He
staggered
aimlessly
from
one
metal
-
lined
pen
to
another
,
while
pear
-
shaped
,
squeaking
little
horrors
with
red
eyes
were
introduced
as
"
Moonpenny
Duchess
Marchpaine
,
who
’
s
gravid
at
the
moment
"
and
"
Moonmist
Talonthrust
II
,
who
was
Best
of
Breed
at
Pseudopolis
last
year
"
.
Jets
of
pale
green
flame
played
across
his
knees
.
Many
of
the
stalls
had
rosettes
and
certificates
pinned
over
them
.
"
And
this
one
,
I
’
m
afraid
,
is
Goodboy
Bindle
Featherstone
of
Quirm
,
"
said
Lady
Ramkin
relentlessly
.
