He drooped limp over Riverrath’s great thumb
For some minutes Jack sat gazing at the sunrise, thinking it all over. Then he picked himself up, and ran pell-mell to the palace. There was the king already up, standing before the mirror putting on his crown. And there was the queen ready to go out with him in the coach.
“Father! Mother!” cried Jack. “I must go upon a journey.”
“Of course, of course,” said the king. “You’re going to drive with us to town.”
“Oh, not that!” cried Jack. “I have to go to the ends of the earth to find the giant Riverrath.”
“And who is he?” asked the king.
“The giant who pulls your bridges down,” said Jack; and he told them all about it.
“It’s nonsense,” said the king decidedly. “Here the palace has stood three hundred years, and here it will stand for all your giants. However,” he added a little nervously, “if you’re determined, Jack, I suppose you may as well go to find him.”