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قراءة كتاب Jack The Giant Killer

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‏اللغة: English
Jack The Giant Killer

Jack The Giant Killer

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دار النشر: Project Gutenberg
الصفحة رقم: 8

the face is black and blue;
     Till each Paddy Whack
     Is blue and black;
     "Now, I think you're done brown," said courageous Jack.
     Down the tight rope he slides,
     And his good sword hides
     In the hearts of the monsters up to the hilt;
     So he settled them each:
     O'Blunderbore's speech,
     Ere he gave up the ghost was, "Och, murder, I'm kilt!"

     XI.
         The dungeons are burst and the captives freed;
     Three princesses were among them found—
         Very beautiful indeed;
     Their lily white hands were behind them bound:
         They were dangling in the air,
     Strung up to a hook by their dear "back hair."

     Their stomachs too weak
     On bubble and squeak,
     From their slaughtered lords prepared, to dine
                (A delicate rarity);
     With horrid barbarity,
     The Giants had hung them up there to pine.



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     XII.
     Jack, the monsters having "licked,"
     Had, of course, their pockets picked,
     And their keys and eke their riches
     Had abstracted from their breeches.

     "Ladies," he said, with a Chesterfield's ease,
     Permit me, I pray you, to present you with these,"
     And he placed in their hands the coin and the keys:
     "So long having swung,
     By your poor tresses hung,
     Sure your nerves are unhinged though yourselves are unstrung;
               To make you amends,
     Take these few odds and ends,
     This nice little castle, I mean, and its wealth;
               And I 've only to say,
     That I hope that you may
     For the future enjoy the most excellent health."

     Said the ladies—"Oh, thank you!—expressions we lack "—
     "Don't mention it pray," said the complaisant Jack.
     XIII.
     Jack knelt and kissed the snow-white hands
              Of the lovely ladies three;
     Oh! who these matters that understands
              But thinks, "would that I'd been he! "
     Then he bids them adieu; "Au revoir," they cry.
     "Take care of yourselves," he exclaims, "good bye!"

     XIV.
     Away, like Bonaparte in chase,
         O'er mount and moor goes Jack;
     With his trusty sword before his face,
         And its scabbard behind his back.

              Away he goes,
              And follows his nose;
     No wonder, then, that at close of day,
              He found himself out
              In his whereabout;—

     "Dash my buttons," he cried, "I have lost my way
     Before him stretched a lonely vale—
     Just the place for robbing the

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