tle curiously. "As I was saying," he resumed,
"old Blunderbore shouted 'Pooh-hoo!' at what I had done. That was his
ugly, boasting way, you know. He jabbed his knife into his own stomach
to show he wasn't to be outdone--and down he fell, dead as a doornail."

Everychild's heart was beating hard and his face wore a troubled
expression. "I suppose," he said after a thoughtful pause,
"Blunderbore was a very wicked giant--like the Giant Fear?"

Jack was frankly surprised at this question. "A giant is a giant," he
said shortly.

But the troubled expression did not leave Everychild's face. What if
there were a few good giants?--and what if a good giant should
encounter Jack?

His reflections were broken in upon by a triumphant voice--Jack's
voice--exclaiming, "Here's luck for you! Here's one of them coming
now!"

It was true. A very large giant was approaching through the forest.
And the strangest part of it all was that Everychild knew quite well
that this was a good giant. His eyes began to shine and he was
thrilled through and through.

He had never seen so wonderful a creature: so splendid, so powerful, so
fascinating. The giant seemed almost to tread on air. He held his
face up so that the sun shone on it. His eyes were filled with magic.
He wore a wreath of leaves about his hair. A garment like a toga fell
gracefully from his shoulders. He was shod with sandals. He carried
his hands before him as if they would gather in the sunshine. A smile
half sly and half gentle was on his lips.

Everychild clasped his hands eagerly as he gazed at the giant. He
seemed to know that this splendid stranger would lead him presently,
and he was not certain whether he should wish to be led or not--whether
it would be good or evil to be led by him.

His musing and wonder were broken in upon by Jack, who was again
speaking. "I'll give you a little exhibition of my skill," he said,
"I'll have his life before your very eyes."

Everychild became greatly troubled. He could not speak for a moment.
He could not bear to think that the giant should be slain. He even
ventured to hope that he had no cause for fear--that so powerful a
creature might be depended upon to protect himself. Yet Jack the Giant
Killer seemed just now a very valiant figure, and it was plain that he
believed it to be his duty to slay the approaching giant.

It was Grettel who replied to Jack. "Dear me!" she exclaimed
incredulously, "How shall