“You {142}may well imagine, Brother Thames, that this state of affairs was pre-eminently unsatisfactory to my poor people. No man’s life or property was secure, and all improvement was entirely prevented. Indeed, what was the use of building a house which was liable to be knocked down or kicked over by a giant at any moment? Of what avail would it have been to plant a field with wheat, oats, or barley, when at any and every period of the year all might be trodden down by the ruthless foot of the same monster, and the reapers possibly be stamped into the ground, together with the crops which they were gathering? Who would rear sheep and oxen of which he was sure to be robbed? and who would spend time, labour, and money upon anything when all was so insecure and uncertain? So it came about that the population diminished, no houses were built, few fields were sown, lands went out of cultivation, and it seemed as if, in a little time longer, the country would be neither more nor less than a dreary wilderness. Indeed, the whole face of the country was changed by the strange freaks of the Daddyroarers. “Sometimes they would amuse themselves by lifting huge masses of rock, and therewith building a mountain; at another time they would fling enormous stones at each other in sport, which was pastime anything but delightful to their neighbours, whose lives and property were thereby grievously imperilled. And not the least part of the mischief they did was when they took a fancy to snowball each other, which the survivors of them still practise, especially in some parts of Switzerland, where the avalanche, which occasionally overwhelms the unhappy traveller, although mistakenly attributed to natural {143}causes, is in reality nothing more than the fall of a larger snowball than usual, hurled by the mighty arm of one of those mountain giants. [Illustration: 160] “At the time I speak of there was one particular giant who had for a long while been remarkably troublesome. Not only was his appetite more insatiable than that of his brethren, but he was endowed with a spirit of mischief, which rendered him an especially disagreeable neighbour. If he met a man he generally gave him a kick, which sent him off fifty yards up in the air, and in most instances proved fatal. He never passed a cottage without sitting down on the roof, or kicking the wall down, and would walk away from a farm with a couple of haystacks, one under each arm, simply for the love of plunder, and when he really did not require the hay for his own purposes.