new potatoes were just in the market. The Early Rose
potato had not been discovered in those days; but there was another
potato, perhaps equally good, which attained to a similar degree of
celebrity. It was called the Young Plantagenet, and reached a very
large size indeed, much larger than the Early Rose does in our time.

Well, Patroclus and AEneas had just dug perhaps a bushel of Young
Plantagenet potatoes. It was slow work with them, for Patroclus had
the Giant's Shakes badly that morning, and of course AEneas was not
very swift. He rolled about among the potato-hills after the manner
of the Princess Ariadne Diana; but he did not present as imposing an
appearance as she, in his homespun farmer's frock.

All at once the earth trembled violently. Patroclus and AEneas looked
up and saw the Pumpkin Giant coming with his mouth wide open. "Get
behind me, O, my darling son!" cried Patroclus.

AEneas obeyed, but it was of no use; for you could see his cheeks each
side his father's waistcoat.

Patroclus was not ordinarily a brave man, but he was brave in an
emergency; and as that is the only time when there is the slightest
need of bravery, it was just as well.

The Pumpkin Giant strode along faster and faster, opening his mouth
wider and wider, until they could fairly hear it crack at the corners.

Then Patroclus picked up an enormous Young Plantagenet and threw it
plump into the Pumpkin Giant's mouth. The Giant choked and gasped, and
choked and gasped, and finally tumbled down and died.

[Illustration: HE PICKED UP AN ENORMOUS YOUNG PLANTAGENET AND THREW IT
AT HIM.]

Patroclus and AEneas while the Giant was choking, had run to the house
and locked themselves in; then they looked out of the kitchen window;
when they saw the Giant tumble down and lie quite still, they knew he
must be dead. Then Daphne was immediately cured of the Giant's
Shakes, and got out of bed for the first time in two years. Patroclus
sharpened the carving-knife on the kitchen stove, and they all went
out into the potato-field.

They cautiously approached the prostrate Giant, for fear he might be
shamming, and might suddenly spring up at them and--AEneas. But no, he
did not move at all; he was quite dead. And, all taking turns, they
hacked off his head with the carving-knife. Then AEneas had it to play
with, which was quite appropriate, and a good instance of the sarcasm
of destiny.

The King was notified of the death of the Pumpkin Giant, a