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A lad who fought with giants ?

Yes, and who killed them too; He must have been a hero

A Briton through and through!

“But that's all past and over,"

Perhaps my readers say ; “I'd like to meet a giant

And fight with him to-day.

“ But I can never see them

Their day is gone and fled; Not one is left to fight with

The giants must be dead!”

My valiant little readers,

If you would giants kill, Just listen, I will tell you

Where you may find them still.

I know one mighty giant,

The cause of much distress : Whene'er you meet him, fight him!

His name is IDLENESS.

Another just as hurtful

Comes stalking by his side: Step out and fight him boldly-

His name is SURLY PRIDE.

And there are many

othersOne whom they FALSEHOOD call: Child, see thou fight him boldly,

For he's the worst of all.

These giants, like old Thundel,

Go stalking through the town; If ever they attack you,

Out clubs, and knock them down.

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DARE say you have heard of King Arthur, or, as some call him, Prince Arthur, and his wife Genevra, who reigned in

NOTE.—In the old Teuton sagas the origin of this story is to be sought. "Jack, commonly called the Giant Killer, and Thomas Thumb, landed in England from the very same keels and war, ships which conveyed Hengist and Horsa, and Ebba the Saxon,” says Sir Walter Scott. In the Northern collection of the old heroic Scandinavian songs, known as the “Edda,” or “ Grandmother," the first collected at the close of the eleventh and the beginning of the twelfth


did some very



years ago—long before the time of the good King Alfred. If not, you must get your friends to tell you something about them, and about the Knights of the Round Table. What I am going to do now is to tell you a wonderful and remarkable story, not about King Arthur, but about

marvellous person

who lived in his time, and who brave actions. His name was Jack. This Jack was the son of a poor farmer who lived in Cornwall, near the Land's End, where the tin-mines are. Jack was always a bold, fearless boy. He feared neither heat nor cold, could climb a steep mountain, or plunge into a deep stream; and he delighted to hear his father's stories about the brave Knights of the Round Table, and of all their valiant deeds.

From constantly hearing of such things, Jack got to take a great interest in all that related to combats, victories, and battles. And the more he heard, the more anxious did he feel to find some enemy against whom he could fight; for he never doubted that his skill and courage would give him the victory in

every encounter. And, do you know, I think that this dependence upon himself and his own powers had a great deal to do with the success that Jack afterwards met with in the wonderful adventures I shall tell you about before this present story is done. If any one firmly makes up his mind to do a certain thing, the chances are that he will succeed in it, unless the thing be very difficult indeed—as in the case of century by the Icelandic priest, Saemund Sigfusson, called the Wise, and the second about a century later by the historian of Iceland, Snorre Sturleson. The first is in poetry, and the second in prose. The incident of Thor and thie giant Skrimner, in Snorre Sturleson's “Edda," is completely paraphrased in that adventure of Jack's, where the undaunted hero placed a log of wood in his bed, on which the giant unwittingly exercised his strength.

the little boy who made up his mind to bite his own nose off, or of his brother, who tried to tame an oyster.

Now, there were several great giants in England and Wales at the time of which I write; and against these giants Jack resolved to try his strength and skill. He could scarcely have chosen more fitting enemies; for the giants were hated and feared by everybody, with good reason. They were great big bullying fellows, with great arms, great legs, and a great habit of taking what did not belong to them, especially in the way of cattle and sheep. And as one of these gentry could as soon chop up a whole sheep as we could cut up a mutton chop, and would no more stop at eating a whole ox, than we should stick at a steak when we were very hungry, you can fancy that the people whose property they made free with were not glad to see them—quite the reverse. If there was one giant whose absence all Jack's neighbours particularly desired, and whom they were especially sorry to see when he called in upon them, that giant was the one named Cormoran (also called Cormorant, from his great and voracious appetite).

This cruel morster lived on St. Michael's Mount, a high hill that rises out of the sea near the coast of Cornwall, and is in shape not unlike an immense pound cake. He was eighteen feet high and nine feet round ; so you can fancy the quantity of stuff it would take to make him a pair of trousers; and perhaps that was the reason why he usually wore none. Не had a very ugly face, and a huge mouth with pointed teeth which excited fear and horror in all who beheld them. For they were in one respect very good teeth, that is to say, they would be sure to bite off very short indeed any hard substance to which they were applied, from a stick of celery to a pump-handle ; but at the same time they were not altogether good-looking teeth, being very sharp and jagged,


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