“I don’t feel hungry to-day,” said the Gentle Giant, “so I put on only five oxen, four deer, and three bears to roast, with perhaps half a dozen little pigs; but now I have company, I’ll hang up a few partridges, too, just for a relish.” He hung a score or two of partridges in front of the fire, and when they were done, he called the children to sit down and eat with him, though at first it was rather hard to see how they could do it. He put them on two of his wooden stools, but, stretch their necks as they might, they could not see over the edge of the table. “We’ll soon fix that,” declared the Gentle Giant. He went to the end of the room, not more than a quarter of a mile away, and brought back his tallest churn. He set it on the stool bottomside up, and put Silvergirl on top of it. “I haven’t any other churn that is tall enough for you,” said the giant, “but I’ll just bring in a pebble and put a cushion on it.” So out of the door he went and soon came back with a stone in his hand big enough for a doorstep. He set that up on the stool and laid a cushion on top of it, and then they were ready for dinner. “Which will you have first,” he asked, “an ox or a bear?” “Could I have a partridge?” asked Silvergirl. “Just as many of them as you want,” replied the giant. “In my country we always ate the oxen and bears first; but you shall do as you like.” So he gave each of the children some partridges, and then he himself began on the oxen. One by one they disappeared, and the pile of bones beside his plate grew higher and higher, till at last the children could not see his face at all. Through the bones, however, his great voice came rumbling as he called: “Aren’t you ready for your oxen yet, or will you have a deer or two and a few little pigs?” He did not wait for an answer, but piled up oxen and bears and deer and pigs on the table before them. “Truly, Mr. Gentle Giant,” declared Silverboy, “we can’t eat any more. Couldn’t you eat these?” “Perhaps,” replied the giant, “though I don’t seem to have so much appetite as usual. I’ll take just a bite or two more and then we’ll all sit down under the trees and you can tell me where you are going and what you know about silver doors. I know a lady who--I mean I might want to find one myself some day.” The Gentle Giant had already eaten the five oxen and the four deer, and now he ate the three bears and the little pigs. “Just one mouthful more to leave a good taste,” he said, and in two minutes the rest of the partridges were gone. “Now come out of doors,” he called, and led the way to the great door, but the children did not follow him. “What’s the matter?” he asked. “We can’t get down,” they replied.