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Stumping, thumping, blundering, lo!
Comes the Giant Scot in sight;
All the people screaming "Oh!"
Fly before him in affright.
Look, he snorts and sniffs, as though
His nose had ken'd an unseen foe;
And hearken what he thunders forth,
In gutteral accent of the north!
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XVI.
"Indeed!" replied the Giant Killer;
"Old fellow, you 're a monstrous miller!"
Disclosing his form to Mac Thundel's sight,
Who foamed at the mouth with fury outright.
"Are ye the traitor loon," he cried,
"By wham my twa bauld brithers died?
Then 'a will tear thee wi' my fangs,
And quaff thy bluid to quit thy wrangs!"
"You must catch me first, old stupid ass!"
Said Jack—he quoted Mrs. Glass;
And he scampers away in his nimble shoes:
Like a walking Ben Lomond, Mac Thundel pursues.
In and out,
Round about,
Jack dodges the Giant apace,
Round the castle wall,
That the guests may all
Enjoy the stirring chase.
O'er the drawbridge he courses, mid shouts of laughter
Mac Thundel heavily flounders after,
Whirling his mace around his head:—
The drawbridge groans beneath his tread—
It creaks—it crashes—he tumbles in,
Very nearly up to his chin,
Amid the assembled company's jeers,
Who hail his fall with "ironical cheers."
He roars, rolls, splashes, and behaves
Much like some monster of the waves,
When "sleeping on the Norway foam,"
The barbéd harpoon strikes him home.
By the side of the moat Jack, standing safe,
Begins the Giant thus to chafe;—
"Just now, old chap, I thought you said
You'd grind my bones to make your bread."
Mac Thundel plunged from side to side,
But he could n't get out although he tried;
Sooth to say, he was thoroughly done—
"Now," said Jack, "we 'll end the fun.
Yon cart rope bring,
Ay—that's the thing!"
And he cast it o'er the heads so big;
A team was at hand,
And he drew him to land,
While all the spectators cried, "That's the rig!"
His falchion gleams aloft in air,
It falls; the monster's heads, I ween,
Are off as quick as Frenchmen's e'er
Were severed by the guillotine.
With shouts of joy the castle rang,
And they hied them again to the festal cheer
Long life to brave Sir Jack they sang,
And they drank his health in floods of beer.
XVII.
Awhile the hero now reposes,
In knightly hall an honoured guest;
His brow by beauty crowned with roses,
And filled his belly with the best.
But soon the life of idlesse palls,
For daring deeds his heart is "game;"
"Farewell," he cries, "ye lordly walls!"
And starts anew in quest of fame.
Over hill and dale he wends;
Fate no fresh adventure sends
To reward him for his pains,
Till a mountain's foot he gains.
Underneath that hill prodigious
Dwelt an anchorite religious:
He batter'd the door with divers knocks;
He didn't make a little din;
And the hermit old, with his hoary locks,
Came forth at the summons to let him in
"Reverend sire," cried Jack, "I say,
Can you lodge a chap who has lost his way?
The grey-beard eremite answered "Yea—
That is if thou cans't take 'pot luck.'"
"I rather think I can, old buck!"
The hero answer made, and went
To supper with no small content.
XX.
When Jack had eaten all he could,
Bespoke him thus the hermit good,-
"My son, I think I 'twig' the man
Who 'slew the Giant Cormoran.'
On yonder hill-top a regular bad 'un
Dwells in a castle just like Haddon
(Haddon!—thou know'st its time-worn towers,
Drawn by ascertain friend of 'ours');
That Giant's name is Catawampus;
And much I fear he soon will swamp us,
Unless that arm—" Cried Jack "Enow;
He dies!" The hermit said, "Allow
Me to remark—you wo n't be daunted—
But know his castle is enchanted;
Him aids a sorcerer of might
Slockdollagos the villain's hight;
They crossed the main from western climes;
And here, confederate in crimes
(They term them 'notion's'), play their tricks;
Bold knights (to use their slang) they 'fix,'
Transforming them, at treacherous feasts,
With stuff called 'julep,' into beasts.
They served a duke's fair daughter so,
Whom they transmuted to a doe;
Hither they brought the maid forlorn,
On car by fiery dragons borne;
To free her, champions not a few
Have tried, but found it would n't do;
Two griffins, breathing sulph'rous fire,
Destroy all those who venture nigh her;
But thee thy coat will keep secure."
Jack answered gaily, "To be sure; "
And swore that when the morning came,
He 'd lose his life or free the dame.
XXI.
Now Night o'er earth her pall had spread,
And dauntless Jack repaired to bed.
O'er the hero as he slumbers,
Spirits hymn aerial numbers;
In a chorus manifold,
Of the deeds and days of old;
Fairy dreams his rest beguile,
Till he feels Aurora's smile.
XXII.
"Hallo!" cries Jack, as he awakes,
Just as the early morning breaks,
And rubs his eyes,—
"'Tis time to-rise."
And ready for mischief he gaily makes.
XXIII.
With the mist of the morning, a little bit
More transparent, I trow, than it,
He climbs the mountain's craggy side;
Anon the castle's lordly pride
He braves with free and fearless brow,
And mutters, "Now then for the row! "
Before the gates on either side,
A "formidable shape" he spied;
A monstrous griffin right and left,
Like to an antediluvian eft;
Green of back and yellow of maw,
Forked of tongue, and crooked of claw;
Belching and snivelling flame and fire,—
A regular pair of chimeras dire.
"Oh!" said Jack, and he made a face,
"I never saw such a scaly brace!"
Unharmed he 'scaped, because unseen,
Those monsters all so fierce and green;
Through files of reptile guards he passed,
Scolopendras black and vast;
Many a hydra, many a lizard,
Heros' tomb its filthy gizzard;
Dragon with mouth like Ætna's crater,
Crocodile and alligator;
Huge spiders and scorpions round him crawled,
Monstrous toads before him sprawled;
Great rattle-snakes their fangs displayed—
"Hurrah!" he shouted, "who's afraid?"
And now upon the inner gate
He reads these mystic words of fate:—
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XXIV.
Above the distich hung the trump:-
The hero got it with a jump,
And shouting gallantly, "Ya—hips!"
Applied the mouth-piece to his lips.
A blast he blew,-
Asunder flew
The portals with a brazen clang:
Windows were smashed,
And chains were clashed,
While a thousand gongs in discord rang.
A voice within, that seemed the note
Of some prodigious magpie's throat,
In ranc'rous tone cried, "Hallo, now!
I say, what means this tarnel row?"
And out came Catawampus, cross;
Behind him slunk Slockdollagos;
The Great Sea Serpent, trailing slim
His coils tremendous, after him.
XXV.
Six of the tallest men that e'er
Raised in old Kentucky were,
Each standing on the other's head,
Had scarce o'ertopped the monster dread;
The brim of his hat, so considerate,
Was half as big round as the King's Round Table;
His massive club was a maple's trunk:-
He might have made great Arthur "funk."
Arthur the First, or Arthur the Second,
As Arthur oe Wellington may be reckoned.
Slockdollagos was rather less,
But he was n't very short, I guess:—
He was fashionably drest,
In the style of a Wizard of the West.
XXVI.
"Clear off, now," was the Giant's cry;
"The oldest man in all Kentucky
My father whopp'd—my father, I:—
Absquotilate, and cut your lucky!"
Catawampus looked on every side,
But not a single soul espied;
To the right and left he grimly grinned,
Till the trunks of the very trees were skinned.
"Come out!" he bawled, "or I swear I 'll dash
Your brains into an immortal smash!
Don't raise my dander; if you do,
You won't much like me,—I tell you."
XXVII.
Jack laughed this bootless brag to hear,
And thus he sang in the Giant's ear:-
"Yankee doodle doodle doo,
Yankee doodle dandy;
Prepare your knavish deeds to rue,
For know, your fate is handy!"
XXVIII.
Slockdollagos turned green and blue,
But Catawampus in fury flew,
And brandished at random his maple stick,
Smashing the nose of the wizard "slick
Who fetched him in return a kick,
Crying, "Hallo! I wish you'd mind;
I rather speculate you 're blind."
XXIX.
Catawampus bellowed "Oh!
I say, tarnation sieze your toe!"
Rubbing the part as he limped and hopped:
Jack his legs in sunder chopped.
He fell with an astounding sound,
And his castle tottered to the ground.
In faith, the most "tremendous fall
In tea," to this, was nothing at all.
No wallop'd nigger, to compare
Small things, for the nonce, with great,
Ever so dismally the air
Rent with shrieks, I estimate.
The monstrous Yankee thus laid low,
Jack settled his hash with another blow;
So he gave up the ghost, and his dying groan
Had a "touch of the earthquake" in its tone.