There was silence for long wondering seconds after the child had finished. It was broken at last by Willie. He shook a hard, bony fist, which really did not appear to be much bigger than a mole’s white hand.
“Oh,” he cried, a fire seemed to scintillate in his black, black eyes, “if I had only been there, Peggy, I would have——”
It may never be known what Willie would have done, for the giant interrupted his speech in a way that was more comical than polite.
He laughed with a gruff “No, no, no!” and a deep-toned “Ha, ha, ha!” that stirred the leaves in the bushes near them, and, as he laughed, he hoisted Willie right up, and on to the sole of one of his monstrous boots, then extended the leg in the air till the dwarf looked a mere midget.
“There you are! Now we can see you. He, he, he! Ho, ho, ho,! Now we can see you, Willie. Stand there and talk down to us what you would have done.”
Nothing could have put wee Willie out of countenance. He smiled down upon Peggy, and his smile was an ineffably sweet one, for dwarf though he might be, his face and form were perfect.
“Peggy, love,” he said, “hand me up your maidenly little mandoline, and I’ll sing you a song before I come down from my perch.”
Peggy ran laughing away, and soon returned with the instrument, and, still standing there on the sole of the giant’s boot, he went through his performance without moving a muscle, and as coolly as if he had been on the platform before an audience of gaping rustics.
Then, laughing merrily, he sprang through the air and alighted on the giant’s great head. But Gourmand’s head was a hard one, and wasn’t hurt one little bit.
* * * * *