II.

          When this mountain bugaboo
          Had filled his belly, what would he do?
          He'd shoulder his club with an ox or two,
          Stick pigs and sheep in his belt a few,—
     There were two or three in it, and two or three under
     (I hope ye have all the "organ of wonder");
     Then back again to his mountain cave
     He would stump o'er the dry land and stride through the wave.

     III.

                     What was to be done?
                     For this was no fun;
                 And it must be clear to every one,
          The new Tariff itself would assuredly not
          Have supplied much longer the monstrous pot
                 Of this beef-eating, bull-headed, "son-of-a-gun."

     IV.

     Upon a night as dark as pitch
     A light was dancing on the sea;—
     Marked it the track of the Water Witch?
     Could it a Jack-a-lantern be?
     A lantern it was, and borne by Jack;
     A spade and a pickaxe he had at his back;
     In his belt a good cow-horn;
     He was up to some game you may safely be sworn.
     Saint Michael's Mount he quickly gained,
     And there the livelong night remained.

                What he did
                The darkness hid;
     Nor needeth it that I should say:
     Nor would you have seen,
     If there you had been
     Looking on at the break of day.

     V.

     Morning dawned on the ocean blue;
     Shrieked the gull and the wild sea-mew;
     The donkey brayed, and the grey cock crew;
     Jack put to his mouth his good cow-horn,
     And a blast therewith did blow.

     The Giant heard the note of scorn,
     And woke and cried "Hallo!"
     He popped out his head with his night-cap on,
     To look who his friend might be,
     And eke his spectacles did don,
     That he mote the better see.

     "I'll broil thee for breakfast," he roared amain,