Engaged in friendly discourse, they came in sight of eighty-five or eighty-six windmills; and as Don Quixote espied them he said to his Squire, “Fortune favours us. Look yonder, friend Jesse—I mean Sancho—where thou mayest discover some more than eighty disloyal giants, and monsters of sedition, whom I intend to encounter and slay.” “What giants?” said Sancho Panza. “These thou seest yonder,” answered his master, “with their long and far-reaching arms, for some are wont to have them of the full length of a league. Fly not, ye cowards, and vile caitiffs!” he cried, “for it is a single Knight who assaults ye! Although ye should have more arms than the giant Briareus, ye shall pay for it!”
And the story, so far as it has gone (it is “to be continued”), leaves Don Quixote making a prodigiously plucky assault upon the League-limbed “giants,” with what result the sequel will show.
TORSION.
Irish Waiter (to Bow-legged Traveller in the Coffee-room). “Big pardon, Sor. Hadn’t your Honour better move a little further from the Foire?”
Traveller (fiercely). “Eh? Wha’ for? Wha’ d’ye mean?!”
Irish Waiter. “Och shure, Sor, yer Legs is warpin’!—Och! phew! Most turrible!”