Round III.—Dick bisects the Giant. Both
sides now attack him on either hand, and the feet kick him severely.
“No kicking!” said Dick.
“Nonsense; all fair in war!” said the Giant.
But do not let us pursue this sanguinary encounter in all its horrible details.
Let us also remember—otherwise the scene would be too painful for an elegant mind to contemplate with entertainment—that the Giant was in excellent training, and thought no more of a few wounds than you do of a crack on the leg from a cricket-ball. He well deserved the title given him by the Fancy, of “The Giant who does not Know when he has had Enough.”
* * * * *
The contest was over; Dick was resting on a rock. The lists were strewn with interesting but imperfect fragments of the Giant, when a set of double teeth of enormous size flew up
out of the ground and caught Ricardo by the throat! In vain he strove to separate the teeth, when the crow, stooping from the heavens, became the Princess Jaqueline, and changed Dick into a wren—a tiny bird, so small that he easily flew out of the jaws of the Giant and winged his way to a tree, whence he watched the scene.
But the poor Princess Jaqueline!