o the water-side--"Never believe me again, master,
if it is not a golden carp with a ring in its mouth!"

"Yes, Avenant," said the carp, "this is the ring which the princess
has lost. You saved my life in the willow meadow, and I have
recompensed you. Farewell!"

Avenant took the ring gratefully and returned to the palace with
Cabriole, who scampered about in great glee. Craving an audience, he
presented the princess with her ring, and begged her to accompany him
to his master's kingdom. She took the ring, looked at it, and thought
she was surely dreaming.

"Some fairy must have assisted you, fortunate Avenant," said she.

"Madam, I am only fortunate in my desire to obey your wishes."

"Obey me still," she said graciously. "There is a prince named
Galifron, whose suit I have refused. He is a giant as tall as a tower,
who eats a man as a monkey eats a nut: he puts cannons into his
pockets instead of pistols; and when he speaks, his voice is so loud
that every one near him becomes deaf. Go and fight him, and bring me
his head."

Avenant was thunderstruck; but after a time he recovered
himself--"Very well, madam. I shall certainly perish, but I will
perish like a brave man. I will depart at once to fight the Giant
Galifron."

The princess, now in her turn surprised and alarmed, tried every
persuasion to induce him not to go, but in vain. Avenant armed himself
and started, carrying his little dog in its basket. Cabriole was the
only creature that gave him consolation: "Courage, master! While you
attack the giant, I will bite his legs: he will stoop down to strike
me, and then you can knock him on the head." Avenant smiled at the
little dog's spirit, but he knew it was useless.

Arrived at the castle of Galifron, he found the road all strewn with
bones, and carcases of men. Soon he saw the giant walking. His head
was level with the highest trees, and he sang in a terrific voice--

"Bring me babies to devour;
More--more--more--more--
Men and women, tender and tough;
All the world holds not enough."

To which Avenant replied, imitating the tune--

"Avenant you here may see,
He is come to punish thee:
Be he tender, be he tough,
To kill thee, giant, he is enough."

Hearing these words, the giant took up his massive club, looked around
for the singer, and, perceiving him, would have slain him on the spot,
had not a raven, sitting on a tree close by, suddenly flown out upon
him an