"Please," he said, speaking in a great hurry, he was so frightened,--"please, we only took a few because we were nearly starving. We did not know they belonged to you, and we meant no harm. Please, oh, please let us go this once, and we'll promise never, never to come back any more." [Illustration] "Oh, ho!" cried the giant, with a great laugh; "let you go, indeed! Not so fast, Thumbkin! I am fond of little people like you." Poor Vance danced helplessly about upon the giant's great palm, but could do nothing to help himself and had to look on as the giant seized the box in his other hand and shook it gently, making the little folk fly about wildly and get many a bruise and bump from tables and chairs. "These will amuse my wife vastly," said the giant, as he began to stride toward home. "I should not wonder but she'd preserve ye in brown sugar. I like such little relishes, and 'tis a long time since I've had any." At this you can fancy that poor Vance became quite ill with fear; but as there seemed just then to be no way of escaping, he held his tongue and looked sharply about him until in time they came to the giant's castle. It was a huge gray stone building, with iron-barred windows, and at the gate three dogs so enormous in size and so hideous to see that merely to hear of them would be enough to give one the shivers, so you shall be told nothing at all about them. Horrible as they looked, they stood in fear of the giant; and at his word they lay down meekly enough, and did not even growl as he strode by them through the court and into the castle hall. "Wife," cried the giant to a woman who stood admiring herself in a big mirror in the end of the room,--"wife, come ye here and see what I have found." "What have you found?" asked she, without turning away from the glass. "Is it anything to wear?" "Zounds!" shouted the giant. "Can you think of nothing but dress, Madam? No, it is far better than something to wear; it is something to eat. Come, put on the pot!" At this all hope forsook poor Vance, and he thought that his end had come indeed. But the giant's wife spoke up sharply, and declared that it was quite too late to be cooking anything fresh for supper, and that the giant might wait until morning. "What is there for supper, anyhow?" asked the giant, discontentedly, for he had quite counted upon the fresh stew he would have made from Vance. "Why," replied the giantess, "there's the sea-serpent pie I've warmed up, and I've opened a can of elephant's heads by way of a relish." "Be quick with it," growled the giant, "or I shall eat this boy up raw in no time!"