right good
will.

The crocodile snapped and snapped his huge jaws with a sound which made
the hills ring and ring again; but he failed to get the faithful Terence
within the power of his grinders; at the same time, in vain the Squire
sought a vulnerable point into which to thrust his trusty sword. The
length of the monster's snout prevented him from reaching his eyes, and,
as to getting a fair thrust at his shoulders, that seemed utterly
impossible.

All this time Saint Patrick and the Giant, it must not be forgotten,
were fighting furiously.

"Let my tame crocodile alone, or I'll make mincemeat of you when I have
killed your master!" cried the Giant hoarsely, through his clinched
teeth.

"Faith, then, I hope that time will never arrive then, my beauty,"
answered the faithful Terence, making a spring, and leaping nimbly on
the crocodile's back. "It's not exactly the sort of steed I'd choose,
except for the honour of riding, but I'll make him pay the piper, at all
events;" whereupon he began slashing away with his trusty sword most
furiously on the neck and shoulders of the crocodile. A delicate maiden
might as well have tried to pierce the hide of an aged hippopotamus with
a bodkin.

At last, losing patience, he sprang to his feet on the back of the
monster, and plunged his sword into one of his eyes, just as he was
about to make a snap at Saint Patrick's thigh. The crocodile, feeling
itself wounded, turned aside, when the Squire plunged his weapon into
the other eye.

Thus blinded, and furious with pain, the brute rushed forward, snapping
in every direction, and running against his master, caught hold of the
calf of his leg with a gripe so firm that the Giant, groaning with pain,
turned aside his proud looks to see what was the matter.

The opportunity was not lost on Saint Patrick, who, pressing forward,
plunged his falchion into the neck of his antagonist, who, bellowing
louder than ten thousand bulls, made a desperate cut with his battle-axe
at the helm of the Knight. The Champion sprang aside, and the blow
descended on the neck of the tame crocodile, whereby its head was
severed from its body, Terence narrowly escaping from the effects of the
blow.

The death of his favourite brute enraged the Giant still further; but
rage invariably blinds judgment, and neglecting his proper guards, he
soon found himself treated as he had treated the crocodile, his head, by
a stroke of the Knight's battle-axe, fal