"Now, girls, the song--everybody joins. The other songs are not written yet, so we need not bother about them till next time." The girls, glad of something to do, sang vigorously, and the song went well. Then the Turkish Knight was duly slain, restored and slain again. "We can't finish to-night," declared Dennis, looking at his watch, "so I'm sorry to have troubled you to come, Mrs. Hacker, and you, Voysey." "They haven't wasted their time, however, because Head and I have showed them what acting means," said Nathan. "And when you do come on, Susan Hacker, you've got to quarrel and pull my beard, remember; then we make it up afterwards." "We'll finish for to-night with the Giant," decreed Dennis. "Now speak your long speech, St. George, and then Mr. Baskerville can do the Giant." Ned, who declared that he had as yet learned no more, read his next speech, and Vivian began behind the scenes-- "Fee--fi--fo--fum! I smell the blood of an Englishman. Let him be living, or let him be dead, I'll grind his bones to make my bread." "You ought to throw a bit more roughness in your voice, farmer," suggested Mr. Gollop. "If you could bring it up from the innards, 'twould sound more awful, wouldn't it, reverend Masterman?" "And when you come on, farmer, you might pass me by where I lie dead," said Jack, "and I'll up and give you a nip in the calf of the leg, and you'll jump round, and the people will roar again." "No," declared the vicar. "No more of you, Head, till the end. Then you come to life and dance with the French Eagle--that's Voysey. But you mustn't act any more till then." "A pity," answered Jack. "I was full of contrivances; however, if you say so----" "Be I to dance?" asked Mr. Voysey. "This is the first I've heard tell o' that. How can I dance, and the rheumatism eating into my knees for the last twenty year?" "I'll dance," said Head. "You can just turn round and round slowly." "Now, Mr. Baskerville!" Vivian strode on to the stage. "Make your voice big, my dear," pleaded Gollop. "Here come I, the Giant; bold Turpin is my name, And all the nations round do tremble at my fame, Where'er I go, they tremble at my sight: No lord or champion long with me will dare to fight." "People will cheer you like thunder, Vivian," said his brother, "because they know that the nations really did tremble at your fame when you was champion wrestler of the west." "But you mustn't stand like that, farmer," said Jack Head. "You'm too spraddlesome. For the Lord's sake, man, try and keep your feet in the same parish!" Mr. Baskerville bellowed with laughter and slapped his immense thigh. "Dammy! that's funnier than anything in the play," he said. "'Keep my feet in the same parish!' Was ever a better joke heard?" "Now, St. George, kill the Giant," commanded Dennis. "The Giant will have a club, and he'll try to smash you; then you run him through the body."