"Don't be an ass!" said Jack
"But I have," he protested—"I have. He's there in that wood, kneeling by the stream, washing his face. I watched him walk to it. He's enormous! He's as tall as this caravan nearly. Do come and peep at him."
They all very readily accompanied Gregory into the wood, and there, sure enough, was a giant, combing his hair.
He heard them coming, and looked round. They stopped, open-eyed and openmouthed.
"Here, I say," the giant said at last, "this won't do. You mustn't look at me like that—free. It's a penny each, you know."
He had a broad Yorkshire accent and a kind face.
"Where do you come from?" he asked.
"We come from London," said Janet. "We are on a caravan journey."
"A caravan journey," said the giant. "So am I. I always am, in fact."
"Are you?" said Gregory. "How splendid!"