Chapter 8

When the Giant came in, his good nose served him in a moment: for he cried out "I smell fresh meat." Jack laughed at this, but it was no laughing matter; for the Giant looked all around the room, and even put his finger on the lid of the copper, till it seemed as if a stone of a hundredweight had fallen upon the lid. Just then his wife came in with a whole roasted bullock smoking hot, which the Giant sat down and ate for his supper, and then went down into the cellar, and drank about six gallons of Jamaica rum. The Giant now sat down and went to sleep, and Jack tried to run away with his golden harp, an instrument which, when the Giant said "play," played the most beautiful tunes. Now the harp was a fairy, and as soon as he touched it, it called out "Master! Master!" so loud that the Giant awoke, but he was some time before he could understand what was the matter. He tried to run after Jack, but Jack got to the top of the beanstalk first. When he had descended a little way he looked up, and how great was his horror to see the huge hand of the Giant stretched down to seize him by the hair of the head! He slid and scrambled down the Beanstalk, hardly knowing how, and seeing the Giant just putting his feet over the top, he called out, "Quick, mother! A hatchet, a hatchet!" Jack seized it and chopped away at the beanstalk, when down it fell, bringing along with it the Giant. Jack instantly cut off his head. After this Jack and his mother lived very happily, and Jack was a great comfort to her in her old age.

[Page 33--Boy Land]

Hop O' My Thumb

Once upon a time there was a woodman and his wife who had so many children that they did not know how to find food for them. So one night, when they were all in bed, the father told his wife that he thought they had better take them into the forest and lose them there. The youngest child, who was so very small that he was called Hop o' my Thumb, overheard his father, and as he was a very clever boy he made up his mind to find his way home again. So he went down to the brook very early the next morning, and filled his pocket with large smooth pebbles as white as snow. Bye-and-bye the woodman and his wife told the children that they might go with them into the wood to have a good game of play. They were all glad except Hop o' my Thumb who knew what his father intended. So they set out; the woodman and his wife first, then the boys, and last Hop o' my Thumb, who sprinkled pebbles all the way they went.

They spent a merry day; but bye-and-bye the parents stole away, and left the children all by themselves. They were very much frightened when they missed their father and mother, and called loudly for them; but when Hop o' my Thumb told them what he had heard, and how they could find their way home by following the track of the pebbles, which marked the way they had come, they set out, and reached home safely, and their father and mother pretended to be very glad to see them back.

But soon after they again resolved to lose their children, if possible, in the forest. This time all the boys feared that they should be left behind, and the eldest brother said he would take some peas to sprinkle, to mark the pathway that led home. By-and-bye the cruel parents stole away, and left the little ones in the dark wood. At first they did not care, for they thought that they could easily find their way home; but, alas! when they looked for the line of peas which they had sprinkled, they found they were all gone--the wood-pigeons had eaten them up, and the children were lost in the wood. Holding each-others' hands and crying sadly they walked on to seek a place to sleep in. By-and-bye they came to a giant's castle, where they were taken in, and told that they might sleep in the nursery with the seven baby daughters of the giant, who were lying all in a row in one bed, with gold crowns on their heads. Hop o' my Thumb thought it was strange that the giant should be so kind, as he had been told that the ogres eat children. So in the night he got up softly and took off the little giantesses' crowns and put them on his brothers' heads and his own, and lay down again. It was lucky for him that he did so, for in the night the giant came up in the dark to kill the boys, that they might be ready for the next day's breakfast. He felt the beds, and finding the crowns on the boy's heads took them for his own children, left them and went to the other bed and cut off the heads of his daughters instead. Then he went back to bed. Directly he was gone, Hop o' my Thumb and his brothers got up, stole down stairs, opened the door and fled away from the castle. But they did not go far. Hop o' my Thumb knew that the giant would come after them in his seven-league boots. So they got into a hole in the side of a hill and hid. Very soon after, they saw the giant coming at a great pace in his wonderful boots; but he took such long steps that he passed right over their heads. They were afraid to move out till they had seen him go home again. So they remained quietly where they were.

By-and-bye the giant, who had been many miles in an hour, came back tired, and lay down on the hill-side and fell asleep. Then Hop o' my Thumb got out of the hole, and pulled off the giant's seven-league boots, and put them on his own feet. They fitted him exactly, for being fairy boots they would grow large or small just as one liked. He then got his brothers out of the hole, took them in his boots, marched for home, and although it was a great distance, got there in almost no time, but when he arrived at the house his father and mother were not there. He then hastened to make inquiries for them, and found they had been suspected of murdering their children,--who had all disappeared suddenly--that they had owned to leaving them in the wood, and that they were to be put to death for their crime. "We must go and save them," he said. So he took his brothers into the seven-league boots, and set out to the place where their parents were in prison. They arrived only just in time, for the guards were bringing out the woodsman and his wife to put them to death. Hop o' my Thumb took off the boors, and all the children called out, "We are alive! we are alive! Do not kill our mother and father."

Then there was great joy. The woodman and his wife were set free, and embraced their children. They had repented their wickedness, and were never unkind and cruel any more; and Hop o' my Thumb kept them all in comfort by going on errands for the king in his seven-league boots.

Tom Thumb

In the days of good King Arthur there lived a ploughman and his wife who wished very much to have a son; so the man went to Merlin, the enchanter, and asked him to let him have a child, even, if it were "_no bigger than his thumb._" "Go home and you will find one," said Merlin; and when the man came back to his house he found his wife nursing a very, very, wee baby, who in four minutes grew to the size of the ploughman's thumb, and never grew any more. The fairy queen came to his christening and named him "Tom Thumb." She then dressed him nicely in a shirt of spider's web, and a doublet and hose of thistledown.

One day, while Tom's mother was making a plum-pudding, Tom stood on the edge of the bowl, with a lighted candle in his hand, that she might see to make it properly. Unfortunately, however, while her back was turned, Tom fell into the bowl, and his mother not missing him, stirred him up in the pudding, and put it and him into the pot. Tom no sooner felt the hot water than he danced about like man; the woman was nearly frightened out of her wits to see the pudding come out of the pot and jump about, and she was glad to give it to a tinker who was passing that way.

The tinker was delighted with his present; but as he was getting over a style, he happened to sneeze very hard, and Tom called out from the middle of the pudding, "Hallo, Pickens!" which so terrified the tinker that he threw the pudding into the field, and scampered away as fast as he could. The pudding tumbled to pieces in the fall, and Tom, creeping out, went home to his mother, who was in great affliction because she could not find him. A few days afterwards Tom went with his mother into the fields to milk the cows, and for fear he should be blown away by the wind, she tied him to a thistle with a small piece of thread. Very soon after a cow ate up the thistle and swallowed Tom Thumb. His mother was in sad grief again; but Tom scratched and kicked in the cow's throat till she was glad to throw him out of her mouth again.

One day Tom Thumb went ploughing with his father, who gave him a whip made of barley straw, to drive the oxen with; but an eagle, flying by, caught him up in his beak, and carried him to the top of a great giant's castle. The giant would have eaten Tom up; but the fairy dwarf scratched and bit his tongue and held on by his teeth till the giant in a passion took him out again and threw him into the sea, when a very large fish swallowed him up directly. The fish was caught soon after and sent as a present to King Arthur, and when the cook opened it there was Tom Thumb inside. He was carried to the king, who was delighted with the little man.

The king ordered a little chair to be made, in order that Tom might sit on his table, and also a palace of gold a span high, with a door an inch wide, for little Tom to live in. He also gave him a coach drawn by six small mice.

This made the queen angry, because she had no a new coach too; therefore, resolving to ruin Tom, she complained to the king that he had spoken insolently to her. The king sent for him. Tom, to escape his fury, crept into an empty snail shell, and lay there till he was almost starved; when peeping out of the shell he saw a fine butterfly settled on the ground: he now ventured out, and getting on it, the butterfly took wing, and mounted into the air with little Tom on his back. Away he flew from field to field, from tree to tree, till at last he flew to the king's court. The king, queen, and nobles all strove to catch the butterfly but could not. At length poor Tom, having neither bridle or saddle, slipped from his seat and fell into a pool of water, where he was found nearly drowned. The queen vowed he should be beheaded, and while the scaffold was getting ready, he was secured in a mouse-trap; when the cat seeing something stir supposing it to be a mouse, patted the trap about till she broke it, and set Tom at liberty.

Sometimes Tom rode out on a mouse for a horse. One day a big black met him along the road, and wanted to kill the mouse. Tom jumped off the mouse's back, drew his sword, and fought the cat, and made her run away.

In order to show his courage and please the queen, the new knight undertook a terrible adventure.

In one corner of the palace garden there was found a great black spider, of which the lady was very much afraid.

Tom undertook to kill this insect; so he took a gold button for a shield, and his sharp needle-sword, and went out to attack the spider; the knights went also, to witness the combat.

Tom drew his sword and fought valiantly, but the spider's poisonous breath overcame him.

King Arthur and his whole Court went into mourning for little Tom Thumb. They buried him under a rose-bush, and raised a nice white marble monument over his grave.

[Page 34--Naughty Boys]

Mr. Brown, the grocer, having nearly emptied a cask of sugar in front of his shop, a number of naughty boys, seeing his back turned, commenced to steal some. Mr. Brown, spying them through the window, came out, and the reader can see what happened--A bystander informs us that muttered howls of agony arose from the cask, and all the boys' interest in sugar was at an end.

Boy Who Stole Out Without Leave

I remember, I remember, When I was a little Boy, One fine morning in September Uncle brought me home a toy.

I remember how he patted Both my cheeks in his kindliest mood; "Then," said he, "you little Fat-head, There's a top because you're good."

Grandmamma--a shrewd observer-- I remember gazed upon My new top, and said with fervour, "Oh! how kind of Uncle John."

While mamma, my form caressing-- In her eyes the tear-drop stood, Read me this fine moral lesson, "See what comes of being good."

I remember, I remember, On a wet and windy day, One cold morning in December, I stole out and went to play.

I remember Billy Hawkins Came, and with his pewter squirt Squibbed my pantaloons and stockings Till they were all over dirt.

To my mother for protection I ran, quaking every limb; She exclaim'd, with fond affection, "Gracious goodness! look at him!"

Pa cried, when he saw my garment, 'Twas a newly purchased dress-- "Oh! you nasty little varment, How came you in such a mess?"

Then he caught me by the collar, --Cruel only to be kind-- And to my exceeding dolour, Gave me--several slaps behind.

Grandmamma, while I yet smarted, As she saw my evil plight, Said--'twas rather stony-hearted-- "Little rascal! serve him right!"

I remember, I remember, From that sad and solemn day, Never more in dark December Did I venture out to play.

And the moral which they taught, I Well remember: thus they said-- "Little Boys, when they are naughty, Must be whipp'd and sent to bed!"

[Page 35--Boy Land]

Dirty Jack

There was one little Jack, Not very long back, And 't is said to his lasting disgrace, That he never was seen With his hands at all clean, Nor yet ever clean was his face.

His friends were much hurt To see so much dirt And often and well did they scour, But all was in vain, He was dirty again Before they had done it an hour.

When to wash he was sent, He reluctantly went With water to splash himself o'er, But he left the black streaks Running down both his cheeks, And made them look worse than before.

The pigs in the dirt Could not be more expert Than he was, in grubbing about; And people have thought This gentleman ought To be made with four legs and a snout.

The idle and bad May, like to this lad, Be dirty and black, to be sure. But good boys are seen To be decent and clean, Although they be ever so poor.

Throwing Stones

Johnny Jones, why do you do it? Those who throw stones Surely will rue it; Little of pleasure, evil may flow, Mischief past measure comes of a blow.

Yes, yes! stone flinging. Laugh as you may, Woe may be bringing Upon you some day.

Someone is watching, Armed by the law, Truncheon from pocket Soon he will draw. Off he will march you-- Dreadful to think!--to a dark prison: Light through a chink, Bread without butter, water for drink.

Dirty Dick

Dirty, noisy, mischievous Dick, Struggled and tore, and wanted to fight Susan, the nurse, who in the bath Began to wash him on Saturday night.

Her hair he tried to pull up by the roots, The water he splashed all over the floor, Which ran downstairs, and one night made A terrible slop at the parlour door.

To give him advice was a waste of time, So his father resolved to try a stick, And never since then has he been called Dirty, noisy, mischievous Dick.

Boy That Stole the Apples

A boy looked over a wall, And spied some lovely apples; "But," says he "the tree is tall, And belongs to 'Grumpie Chapples!' Still, I think some could be got By a climbing lad like me: I'll try and steal a lot, So here goes up the tree."

The wall he then got over, And up the tree he went; But Chapples, mowing clover, Espied the wicked gent. He let him fill his school-bag-- Get over the wall again; Rushed up and played at touch-tag, Which surprised him much, and then:--

_Look at the Picture!!!_

Mischievous Fingers

Pretty little fingers, Wherefore were they made? Like ten smart young soldiers, All in pink arrayed.

Apt and quick obedient To your lightest thought, Doing in an instant Everything they're taught.

'T was for play or study, Pen to wield or ball; Kite, top, needle, pencil, Prompt at parents' call.

Picking, poking, soiling Costly things and dear, Wrecking, cracking, spoiling All that they come near.

Thus 't was with Robert Chivers, Brandishing a swish, Broke a vase to shivers Filled with silver fish.

"Tick, tick" says the Dutch clock. Robert fain would know How it's pendulum swinging Made it's wheels go.

Who not ask? No! foolish Robert takes a stick, Pokes and breaks the clock, which Ceases soon to tick.

"Puff, puff," sighs the bellows. Robert wants to find, Yet he will not ask, whence Comes it's stock of wind.

With a knife upripping, Finds them void and flat. Ah! be sure a whipping Robert caught for that.

The Boy who Played with Fire

Listen about a naughty boy Who might have been a parent's joy, But that he had a strong desire To always meddle with fire.

One day when his mamma went out, She said "Mind, dear, what you're about: With your nice books and playthings stay, And with the fire, oh! do not play."

But as soon as his mamma was gone, And this bad boy left all alone, Thought he, "In spite of all ma says, Now we'll have a glorious blaze.

"No one is by, 't is quickly done, And oh! 't will be such famous fun." Quick then about the hearth he strewed Some scraps of paper and of wood.

Then lighted them and drew them out, And with them, laughing, ran about. But soon he changed his merry note-- The flames, alas, had caught his coat, And every moment, mounting higher, His body soon was all on fire; And though he screamed with shriek and shout, No one came near to put it out: So it happened, sad to say, That boy was burned to death that day.

[Page 36]

Wicked Willie

Willie was a wicked boy, Snubbed his poor old mother; Willie was a dreadful boy, Quarrelled with his brother; Willie was a spiteful boy, Often pinched his sister, Once he gave her such a blow, Raised a great big blister!

Willy was a sulky boy, Sadly plagued his cousins, Often broke folks' window panes, Throwing stones by dozens, Often worried little girls, Bullied smaller boys, Often broke their biggest dolls, Jumped upon their toys.

If he smelled a smoking tart, Willie longed to steal it; If he saw a pulpy peach, Willie tried to peel it; Could he reach a new plum-cake, Greedy Willie picked it, If he spied a pot of jam, Dirty Willie licked it.

If he saw a poor old dog, Wicked Willie whacked it; If it had a spot of white, Silly Willy blacked it, If he saw a sleeping cat, Horrid Willie kicked it; If he caught a pretty moth, Cruel Willie pricked it.

If his pony would not trot, Angry Willie thrashed it; If he saw a clinging snail, Thoughtless Willie smashed it; If he found a sparrow's nest, Unkind Willie hit it. All the mischief ever done, Folks knew Willie did it.

No one liked that horrid boy, Can you wonder at it? None who saw his ugly head, Ever tried to pat it. No one ever took him for a ride-- Folks too gladly skipped him. No one ever gave him bats or balls, No one ever "tipped" him.

No one taught him how to skate, Or to play at cricket; No one helped him if he stuck In a prickly thicket. Oh no! for the boys all said Willie loved to tease them, And that if he had the chance, Willie would not please them.

And they shunned him every one, And they would not know him, And their games and picture-books They would never show him, And their tops they would not spin, If they saw him near them, And they treated him with scorn Till he learned to fear them.

They all left him to himself, And he was so lonely, But of course it was his fault, Willie's own fault only. If a boy's a wicked boy, Shy of him folks fight then, If it makes him dull and sad, Why, it serves him right then!

This is the Naughty Boy who would go making Mud Pies, and get his nice new clothes all over mud.

He said he would be Good, but he got into the mud, and was a Naughty, Bad, Bad Boy!!!

The Wicked, Rude, Bad, Naughty, Cross, Nasty, Bold, Dirty-faced Boy

Boys, stop your noise! Girls, stop your jumping and skipping! While I tell you about a bad boy, who often deserves a whipping. If this boy to you were named, to speak to him you'd feel ashamed, So to-day I'll only say--He's a wicked, rude, bad, naughty, cross, nasty, bold, dirty-faced boy!

I won't tell you his age, nor the colour of his hair, Nor say anything about the clothes he sometimes does wear; You never see them neat and clean, and seldom without a tear, Because--He's a wicked, rude, bad, naughty, cross, nasty, bold, dirty-faced boy!

If he's sent on a message, such a long time he stops, To pelt stones at Chinamen, and stare in the shops; Running behind drays, and wastes time so many ways, That when he gets home his mother says-- Oh you wicked, rude, bad, naughty, cross, nasty, bold, dirty-faced boy!

If his mother gives him lolly, cake, piece of beef or mutton, In a corner he'll eat it by himself, he's such a nasty, greedy glutton. And he'll smug from his playmates a marble, top or button, That scarcely any one can with him have any fun, Because--He's a wicked, rude, bad, naughty, cross, nasty, bold, dirty-faced boy!

He's been going to school for years, I can't tell you how long, If you ask him to spell three words, two are sure to be wrong; If you saw the dirty books and broken slate which to him belong, You'd easily guess from such a mess that-- He's a wicked, rude, bad, naughty, cross, nasty, bold, dirty-faced boy!

You can't believe a word he says, he tells so many lies. He's such a coward, he'll only hit a girl or boy much less than his size, But if he gets a blow himself, he howls, bawls, yelps, and cries, That anyone who sees him never tries to please him, Because--He's a wicked, rude, bad, naughty, cross, nasty, bold, dirty-faced boy!

He won't play any game without being always cheating, I often wonder how he so many times escapes a beating, And he never says grace before or after eating. He's scarcely better in the least than a brute beast, Because--He's a wicked, rude, bad, naughty, cross, nasty, bold, dirty-faced boy!

What school he goes to at present I won't tell, But I mean to watch him, and if he don't mind and behave well, I'll go to every school and ring a little bell, I'll make a great noise, and show all the girls and boys This wicked, rude, bad, naughty, cross, nasty, bold, dirty-faced boy!

[Page 37]

Little Chinkey Chow-Chow (The Boy That Ran Away)

There was a little Chinese Boy, That ran away from home-- "Ha! ha!" he said, "I'll see the world And through the streets I'll roam.

"I won't go any more to school, Or go so soon to bed, Nor yet be scolded if I choose To stand upon my head."

So little Chinkey ran away, His tail flew in the wind; He thought not of his good mamma Who was so very kind:

He knew she could not follow him Along the crowded street, Because mammas in China have Such very tiny feet.

Now, as he went along he saw Such strange and lovely sights, Such pretty painted houses-- Such tops! and oh! such kites!

He saw so many gilded toys, and ivory things so white, That he forgot about the time, Until he found it night.