“Oh, finely, finely,” says Jack, says he, holding his hands behind his back all the same.
“Show me your hands, Jack,” says the Giant, “till I see if you wash them and keep them clean always.” And when Jack showed his hands, the Giant got black in the face with rage, and says he. “Didn’t I forgive you your life yesterday for going into that stable, and you promised never to do it again, and here I find you out, once more?”
The Giant ranted and raged for a long time, and then says he, “Because your father’s father did my father such a good turn, I suppose I will have to spare your life this second time; but, Jack,” says he, “if you should live for a hundred years, and spend them all in my service, and it you should then again open that door and put your foot into my stable, that day,” says he, “you will be a dead man as sure as there is a head on you. Mind that!”
Jack, he thanked the Giant very much for sparing his life, and promised that he never, never would again disobey him.
The next morning the Giant had Jack up early, and told him he was going off this day to fight the Giant at the other end of the world, and gave Jack his directions, and warned him just as on the other days. Then he went into the stable before he went away. And when he was gone, Jack went through all the house, and through the whole yard, setting everything in order, and when everything was done, he stood before the stable door.
“I wonder,” says Jack, “how the poor mare and the poor bear are getting along and what the Giant of the Hundred Hills was doing here to-day? I should very much like,” says he, “to take one wee, wee peep in,” and he opened the door.
Jack peeped in, and there the mare and the bear stood looking at each other again, and neither of them taking a morsel. And there was the meat before the mare and the hay before the bear, just as on the other days.
“Poor creatures,” says Jack, “it is no wonder you are not eating, and hungry and hungry you must be.” And forward he steps, and changes the food, putting it as it should be, the hay before the mare and the meat before the bear, and to it both of them fell.
And when he had done this, up speaks the mare, and “Poor Jack,” says she, “I am sorry for you. This night you will be killed surely; and sorry for us, too, I am, for we will be killed as well as you.”
“Oh, Oh, Oh!” says Jack, says he, “that is terrible. Is there nothing we can do?”