emper; he took pleasure in
hearing or reading stories of wizards, conjurers, giants, and fairies,
and used to listen eagerly while his father talked of the great deeds of
the brave knights of King Arthur's Round Table. When Jack was sent to
take care of the sheep and oxen in the fields, he used to amuse himself
with planning battles, sieges, and the means to conquer or surprise a
foe. He was above the common sports of children; but hardly any one
could equal him at wrestling; or, if he met with a match for himself in
strength, his skill and address always made him the victor. In those
days there lived on St. Michael's Mount of Cornwall, which rises out of
the sea at some distance from the main land, a huge giant. He was
eighteen feet high, and three yards round; and his fierce and savage
looks were the terror of all his neighbours. He dwelt in a gloomy cavern
on the very top of the mountain, and used to wade over to the main land
in search of his prey. When he came near, the people left their houses;
and after he had glutted his appetite upon their cattle, he would throw
half-a-dozen oxen upon his back, and tie three times as many sheep and
hogs round his waist, and so march back to his own abode. The giant had
done this for many years, and the coast of Cornwall was greatly hurt by
his thefts, when Jack boldly resolved to destroy him. He therefore took
a horn, a shovel, pickaxe, and a dark lantern, and early in a long
winter's evening he swam to the mount. There he fell to work at once,
and before morning he had dug a pit twenty-two feet deep, and almost as
many broad. He covered it over with sticks and straw, and strewed some
of the earth over them, to make it look just like solid ground. He then
put his horn to his mouth, and blew such a loud and long tantivy, that
the giant awoke and came towards Jack, roaring like thunder: "You saucy
villain, you shall pay dearly for breaking my rest; I will broil you for
my breakfast." He had scarcely spoken these words, when he came
advancing one step farther; but then he tumbled headlong into the pit,
and his fall shook the very mountain. "O ho, Mr. Giant!" said Jack,
looking into the pit, "have you found your way so soon to the bottom?
How is your appetite now? Will nothing serve you for breakfast this cold
morning but broiling poor Jack?" The giant now tried to rise, but Jack
struck him a blow on the crown of the head with his pickaxe, which
killed him at once. Jack then made has