quoth
Sancho, "and shall have while I have breath to draw; but if ever I
make any of that stuff, or taste it again, may I give up the ghost
with it! Besides, I don't intend ever to do anything that may give
occasion for the use of it, for my fixed resolution is, with all my
five senses, to preserve myself from hurting and from being hurt by
anybody. As to being tossed in a blanket again, I have nothing to say
to that, for there is no remedy for accidents but patience, it seems;
so if it ever be my lot to be served so again, I'll even shrink up my
shoulders, hold my breath, and shut my eyes, and then happy be lucky,
let the blanket and fortune even toss on to the end of the chapter."

"Truly," said Don Quixote, "I am afraid thou art no good Christian,
Sancho, thou never forgettest injuries. Let me tell thee, it is the
part of noble and generous spirits to pass by trifles. Where art thou
lame? which of thy ribs is broken, or what part of thy skull is
bruised, that thou canst never think on that jest without malice? for,
after all, it was nothing but a jest, a harmless piece of pastime; had
I looked upon it otherwise, I had returned to that place before this
time, and had made more noble mischief in revenge of the abuse than
ever the incensed Grecians did at Troy, for the detention of their
Helen, that famed beauty of the ancient world; who, however, had she
lived in our age, or had my Dulcinea adorned hers, would have found
her charms outrivaled by my mistress's perfections;" and saying this,
he heaved up a deep sigh. "Well, then," quoth Sancho, "I will not rip
up old sores; let it go for a jest, since there is no revenging it in
earnest."

DON QUIXOTE'S BATTLE WITH THE GIANTS

_By Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra_

Sancho Panza came running out of Don Quixote's chamber in a terrible
fright, crying out, "Help, help, good people, help my master! He is
just now at it, tooth and nail, with that same giant, the Princess
Micomicona's foe; I never saw a more dreadful battle in my born days.
He has lent him such a sliver, that whip off went the giant's head, as
round as a turnip."--"You are mad, Sancho," said the curate,
interrupted in his reading; "is thy master such a devil of a hero, as
to fight a giant at two thousand leagues' distance?" Upon this, they
presently heard a noise and bustle in the chamber, and Don Quixote
bawling out, "Stay, villain, robber, stay; since I have thee