Then he cocked his big eye with a playful wink, And roared out, "What 'll you take to drink?" "Well," Jack replied, "I 'll tell you what, I think I should n't mind a pot; But, nunky,--could you be so kind?- I wish I had those traps behind The nest wherein you take your nap:- That seedy coat and tattered cap; That ancient sword, of blade right rusty; And those old high-lows all so dusty, That look as though for years they'd been In pop-shop hung, or store marine; No other meed I ask than those, So _may_ I have the sword and clothes? " "Jack," said the Giant, "yes, you may, And let them be a keepsake, pray; They 're queer, and would n't suit a 'gent;' But what to use is ornament? The sword will cut through hardest stuff, The cap will make you up to snuff,-- Worth something more than 'eight and six,'-- The shoes will carry you like 'bricks,' At pace outspeeding swiftest stalkers- (They were a certain Mr. Walker's); The coat excels art's best results, Burckhardt outvies, out-Stultzes Stultz; No mortal man, whate'er his note, Was ever seen in such a coat; For when you put it on your shoulders You vanish, straight, from all beholders!" "Well, hang it! surely you, old chap, Had not got on your knowing cap When you proposed last night to hide, Or _you_ the magic coat had tried: You might have strapped it on your back So thought, but said not, cunning Jack, Thanked his three-headed relative, And toddled, whistling "Jack's Alive." VI. His cap of wit, the Giant's gift, Informed him where the Prince to find; And he has donned his "Walker's" swift, And, leaving chough and crow behind, His Royal Highness soon has joined. "Jack," said the Prince, for fun agog, "Get up behind, you jolly dog!" [Illustration: 058] So up he jumps, and on they jog. They soon have gained the secret bower, Where, spell-bound by the warlock's power, Was kept in "quod" that lady bright: She was remarkably polite, Displayed before them such a spread! Oh! gracious goodness, how they fed! No lack of turtle-soup was there, Of flesh, and fowl, and fish, Of choicest dainties, rich and rare; Turbot and lobster-sauce, and hare; And turtle, plenty, and to spare; And sweets enough to make you stare, And every sort of dish. And there were floods of Malvoisie, Champagne, and Hock, and Burgundy, Sauterne, and Rhein-wine, and Moselle;- It was a bouquet, sooth, to smell; And there was Port and Sherry;--well; And more liqueurs than I can tell. VII.