ground, dead.

Now the Giant, who had been drinking much wine, was fast asleep in a remote part of the castle. Strong-arm had no sooner finished the Dragon, than up started the funny little boy who had opened the door. He led Strong-arm round to another part of the court-yard, where he saw his poor father, who at once sprung to his feet, and embraced him. Then Strong-arm called up his brothers, and when they had embraced their father, they soon broke his chain and set him free.

We must now return to the Little Old Woman. After her sons had started she gave way to the most bitter grief. While she was in this state, an old witch came up to her, and said she would help her, as she hated the Giant, and wished to kill him. The Old Witch then took the little Old Lady on her broom, and they sailed off through the air, straight to the Giant's castle.

Now this old Witch had great power, and at once afflicted the Giant with corns and tender feet. When he awoke from his sleep he was in such pain that he could bear it no longer, so he thought he would go in search of his missing shoe, which, like the other one he had in his castle, was easy and large for his foot. When he came to the spot where the Old Lady and her children lived, he saw his old shoe, and with a laugh that shook the trees, he thrust his foot into it, breaking through the roof that Strong-arm and Peter had put to it. The children, in great alarm, rushed about inside the shoe, and frightened and trembling, scrambled through the door and the slits which the Giant had formerly made for his corns. By this time the witch and the Little Old Lady, as also Strong-arm, his eleven brother and his father, were come up to the spot. Strong-arm and his brothers shot their arrows at him till at last he fell wounded, when Strong-arm went up to him and cut off his head. Then the father and the Little Old Woman and all their children built a new house, and lived happily ever afterwards.

THE BABES IN THE WOOD.

A gentleman of good account
  In Norfolk dwelt of late,
Whose wealth and riches did surmount
  Most men of his estate.

Sore sick he was, and like to die,
  No help his life could save;
His wife by him as sick did lie,
  And both were near the grave.

No love between these two was lost:
  Each to the other kind;
In love they lived, in love they died,
  And left two babes behind.

Now if the children chanced to die,
  Ere they to age should come,
Their uncle should possess their wealth:
  For so the will did run.

“Now brother,” said the dying man,
  “Look to my children dear;
Be good unto my boy and girl,
  No friend else have they here.”

Their parents being dead and gone,
  The children home he takes,
And brings them both unto his house,
  Where much of them he makes.

He had not kept these pretty babes
  A twelvemonth and a day,
When, for their wealth, he did devise
  To make them both away.

He bargain'd with two ruffians bold,
  Who were of savage mood,
That they should take the children twain,
  And slay them in a wood.

They prate and prattle