boy out with the ladle, as if he had been a
black beetle that had tumbled in and had had the worst of it, answered
that she thought it was. Whereupon he rose to help her; and taking the
pot from the fire, poured the whole contents, bubbling and splashing,
into a dish like a vat. Then they sat down to supper. The children in
the broom could not see what they had; but it seemed to agree with
them, for the giant talked like thunder, and the giantess answered like
the sea, and they grew chattier and chattier. At length the giant
said,--

"I don't feel quite comfortable about that heart of mine." And as he
spoke, instead of laying his hand on his bosom, he waved it away
towards the corner where the children were peeping from the
broom-bristles, like frightened little mice.

"Well, you know, my darling Thunderthump," answered his wife, "I always
thought it ought to be nearer home. But you know best, of course."

"Ha! ha! You don't know where it is, wife. I moved it a month ago."

"What a man you are, Thunderthump! You trust any creature alive rather
than your wife."

Here the giantess gave a sob which sounded exactly like a wave going
flop into the mouth of a cave up to the roof.

"Where have you got it now?" she resumed, checking her emotion.

"Well, Doodlem, I don't mind telling _you_," answered the giant,
soothingly. "The great she-eagle has got it for a nest egg. She sits on
it night and day, and thinks she will bring the greatest eagle out of
it that ever sharpened his beak on the rocks of Mount Skycrack. I can
warrant no one else will touch it while she has got it. But she is
rather capricious, and I confess I am not easy about it; for the least
scratch of one of her claws would do for me at once. And she
_has_ claws."

I refer anyone who doubts this part of my story to certain chronicles
of Giantland preserved among the Celtic nations. It was quite a common
thing for a giant to put his heart out to nurse, because he did not
like the trouble and responsibility of doing it himself; although I
must confess it was a dangerous sort of plan to take, especially with
such a delicate viscus as the heart.

All this time Buffy-Bob and Tricksey-Wee were listening with long ears.

"Oh!" thought Tricksey-Wee, "if I could but find the giant's cruel
heart, wouldn't I give it a squeeze!"

The giant and giantess went on talking for a long time. The giantess
kept advising the giant to hide his heart somewhere in the house;