Iv

“O mother, lend me your largest tub!”-- “Why, daughter? tell me quick!”-- “O mother, to make a syllabub For the Giant who is so sick.”

Now in fever-fit the Giant lay, From the pain in his wounded feet, And hoping soon would come the day When he might the babies eat.

“O mother, dress me in white, I beg, With flowers and pretty gear; For Mary and Madge, and Jess and Peg, And all my playmates dear,

“We go to the Giant’s this afternoon, To carry him something nice,-- A custard three times as big as the moon, With sugar and wine and spice.”

“O daughter, your father shall go with you; Suppose the Giant is well, And eats you up, what shall we do?” Then her thought did Alice tell:--

“No, mother dear; we go alone, And Heaven for us will care; If the Giant bad has a heart of stone, We will soften it with prayer!”

Now, when the Giant saw these maids, Drest all in white, draw near, He twitched his monstrous shoulder-blades, And dropped an honest tear!

“Dear Giant, a syllabub nice we bring, Pray let us tuck you in!” The Giant said, “Sweet innocent thing! “Oh, I am a lump of sin!

“Go home, and say to the man of prayer To make the church-door wide, For I next Sunday will be there, And kneel, dears, at your side.

“Tell brave young Harold I forgive Him for the harrow-spikes; And I will do, please Heaven I live, What penance the prayer-man likes.

“Set down, my dears, the syllabub, And as I better feel, I’ll try and eat a fox’s cub At my next mid-day meal;

“And all my life the village I’ll keep From harmful vermin free; But never more will eat up the sheep, The honey, or cock-turkéy!”