't be nice to be alone, kite alone, on the top of one of
zem, would it?" said Ted.

"No, it wouldn't be nice to be alone in any far-off place like that,"
said Percy, "but of course nobody would ever stay up on the top of a
mountain alone."

"But if zem was _made_ to," said Ted doubtfully. "I wouldn't mind so
much if I had Chevie," he added, putting his arm round the dear doggie's
neck and leaning his little fair head on him, for of course Chevie was
of the party.

"Poor Ted," said Percy, laughing. "No one would ever make _you_ live
up all alone on the top of a mountain. Mabel, I wish you'd tell us a
story," he said to his sister. "It's so nice here. I shall go to sleep
if somebody doesn't do something to keep me awake."

He was lying at full length on the soft mossy grass, in the same place
still, and gazing up at the blue sky and brown mountain peak. "Tell us a
story, Mab," he repeated lazily.

"I haven't got any very nice ones just now," said Mabel. "I have been so
busy with my lessons, you know, Percy, that I haven't had time for any
stories."

"Can't you make them up yourself?" said Percy.

"Sometimes I do, a little," she replied. "But I can't make them all
quite myself. Sometimes in our German reading-books there are funny
little bits of stories, and I add on to them. There was one--oh yes,
I'll tell you one about a giant who lived on the top of a mountain."

Ted drew nearer to Mabel, and nestled in to her side.

"A diant on the top of a mountain," he repeated. "Is it very
f'ightening, Mabel?"

"Oh no. Listen and I'll tell you. Once, a long time ago, there was, a
long way off, a strange country. There were lots and lots of forests in
it, and at the side of the biggest forest of all there rose a chain of
high mountains. The people who lived in this forest were poor, simple
sort of people--they hadn't much time for anything but work, for it was
difficult to gain enough to live on. Most of them were charcoal-burners,
and there were not very many of them altogether. Of course in a forest
there wouldn't be much room for cottages and houses, would there? And
their cottages were none of them near together. Each family had its own
hut, quite separated from the others, and unless you belonged to the
forest you could hardly find your way from one part of it to the other.
The poor people, too, were so busy that they had not much time for going
to see each other, or for amusing themselves in any way. They all had a