"No," remarked the story-teller. "But he was a very hungry man, in which respect he was just like the Giant I am trying to tell you about. And my, how the Giant roared with glee when he caught sight of Ebenezer.
"'Good!' he cried, 'that's just what I wanted for my lunch. A nice fat boy.'
"Then he reached down," said the Righthandiron, "and grabbed Ebenezer by the arm, and was about to eat him just as he would a piece of asparagus, when Lefty here cried out:
"'Avast there, Skihigh! That isn't a nice fat boy. That is only a miserable Weasel.'
"'Pah!' said Skihigh, with a face such as you put on when you take a horrid tasting medicine. 'Pah! I can't eat Weasels.'
"And with that he put Ebenezer down on the road again and was about to walk along about his business when what did that foolish little Ebenezer do but up and deny that he was a Weasel!
"'I'm not a Weasel,' he yelled. 'And I am a boy—and a fine boy at that!'
"Skihigh stopped short, whirled about and rushed back to where Ebenezer was standing.
"'What's that you say?' he said eagerly.