As they took their way home
They stepped on a tin,
And the tin it bended,
So my story's ended.
—Angela M. Keyes
JACK-THE-GIANT-KILLER
When good King Arthur ruled the land, there lived near Land's End in England, in a place called Cornwall, a farmer who had an only son named Jack. Jack was wide awake and ready of wit, so that nobody and nothing could worst him.
In those days the Mount of Cornwall was kept by a huge giant named Cormoran. He was so fierce and frightful to look at that he was the terror of all the neighboring towns and villages. He lived in a cave in the side of the mount, and whenever he wanted food he waded over to the mainland and took whatever came in his way. At his coming everybody ran away, and then of course he seized the cattle, making nothing of carrying off half-a-dozen oxen on his back at a time, and as for sheep and hogs he tied them around his waist as if they were tallow dips. He had done this for many years, and all Cornwall was in despair.
One day Jack happened to be in the town-hall when the magistrates were sitting in council to think what was best to do.
