ch the Goblin was leaning, followed by a
tremendous sneeze, that fairly shook the ground.

"What's that?" whispered Davy to the Goblin, in great alarm.

"It's only Badorful," said the Goblin, laughing. "He's always snoring
and waking himself up, and I suppose it's sleeping on the ground that
makes him sneeze. Let's have a look at him;" and the Goblin led the way
along the wall to a large grating.

Davy looked through the grating, and was much alarmed at seeing a giant,
at least twenty feet in height, sitting on the ground, with his legs
crossed under him like a tailor. He was dressed in a shabby suit of red
velveteen, with a great leathern belt about his waist and enormous
boots, and Davy thought he looked terribly ferocious. On the grass
beside him lay a huge club, thickly studded at one end with great iron
knobs; but Davy noticed, to his great relief, that some little creeping
vines were twining themselves among these knobs, and that moss was
growing thickly upon one side of the club itself, as though it had been
lying there untouched for a long time.

The giant was talking to himself in a low tone, and after listening
attentively at the grating for a moment, the Goblin shrieked: "He's
making poetry!" and, throwing himself upon the ground, kicked up his
heels in a perfect ecstasy of delight.

"Oh, hush, hush!" cried Davy, in terror. "Suppose he hears you!"

"Hears me!" said the Goblin, discontinuing his kicking and looking very
much surprised. "What if he does?"

"Well, you know, he _might_ not like being laughed at," said Davy,
anxiously.

[Illustration: "JUST LISTEN TO THIS."]

"There's something in that," said the Goblin, staring reflectively at
the ground.

"And, you see," continued Davy, "a giant who doesn't like what's going
on must be a dreadful creature."

"Oh! there's no fear of _him_" said the Goblin, contemptuously,
motioning with his head toward the giant. "He's too old. Why, I must
have known him, off and on, for nearly two hundred years. Come in and
see him."

"Will he do anything?" said Davy, anxiously.

"Bless you, no!" said the Goblin. "He's a perfect old kitten;" and with
these words he pushed open the grating and passed through, with Davy
following tremblingly at his heels. Badorful looked up with a feeble
smile, and merely said, "Just listen to this:"--

_My age is three hundred and seventy-two,
And I think, with the deepest regret,
How I used to pick up and voracio