Lazy Lawrence

Dorset is apple country, and there was one orchard, owned by an old widow, that had the very best apples – tart, sweet, and crunchy. Why were they so good? Because Lazy Lawrence was protecting the orchard. Every night the widow put out for him a saucer of the top of the milk and another one of fresh water. He might’ve been helping the apples grow and he was certainly keeping away the scrumpers with his sharp teeth and his bright eyes. If you looked into them, he’d hold you there as long as he wanted you. Now, there was a conjurer from Purbeck who fancied those apples. Under cover of darkness he climbed into an apple hamper, said a spell that conjured the hamper into the orchard and conjured the apples into the hamper – and he would’ve conjured the hamper away, apples and all, if he hadn’t been bopped on the head by an apple. He cried out. Suddenly Lazy Lawrence was there. He kicked the conjurer out of the hamper and caught his eye. The conjurer froze on the spot. He was there the next morning until the dew had burned off the grass. He never came back again and the widow could gather her apples in peace, all thanks to Lazy Lawrence.