Cinder was a young dragon, and he could not breathe fire. He only coughed, and a few sparks the size of peas came out. The big dragons laughed. "Cinder, you could not light a candle!"
One winter night he walked down the mountain in the snow. In a village of forty houses every window was dark. The baker, Mrs. Marsh, sat beside her cold oven. "The storm put out the fire," she said. "The matches are wet. Tomorrow there will be no bread."
She was not afraid of a dragon. "Can you light an oven?"
"I can only cough sparks," said Cinder.
"Then cough," said Mrs. Marsh.
He coughed all night. At dawn the oven glowed, and warm bread came out. Mrs. Marsh hung a sign on the door: "Cinder, Official Oven Lighter." His sparks were exactly the right size.
