Thereupon, his general rewarded him by naming him Einheer, which means that the giant was a whole army in himself. He also ordered that the big fellow should have all the sausages, and barley cakes, and dried apples, that he wanted.
In fact, it was necessary to have plenty of eatables ready for the giant, for fear lest, when very hungry, he might swallow the dishes, chew up the napkins, eat up the table cloth, and gulp down the table, legs and all. So terrible was his appetite, that the mothers, when they saw Einheer coming down the hill, or up the street, called all their children inside the house, for fear lest a pretty plump girl, or a nice fat boy, should be seized, to fill up the mammoth cave that he kept under his belt.
When no food was at hand, and the giant had [[121]]to do without his dinner, he set up a roar, like a lion, until people thought it was distant thunder echoing among the far off mountains. Then old Kisher—for the people often forgot his new title—used to pull his belt tighter. He would even let the buckle tongue go into two or three holes further back, in the strap. This took off the edge of his appetite for a while, but only for a few hours. Then he began to roar once more. Again the mothers clasped their babies in their arms and locked the doors, for fear he might get in and eat them out of house and home. The farmers took the harness off the horses, so that even if he broke into the stables, he would help himself only to the animals, and not devour also the traces and horse collars. But after all this, the giant never knew enough to pick a lock, or get into barns, when the doors were properly barred. Even a trained monkey could beat him at this sort of smartness.
Now there was a young tailor, who was tired of this giant’s boasting. Although the people often laughed at this man of shears and measuring tape, and called him “one-ninth,” and the boys at times shouted “Cabbage” at him, he was really a brave fellow. Besides being an expert with needle and thread, he was really as clever as any one in town. Indeed, he thought himself, in this respect, equal, even to the judges, in the [[122]]court, who put big wigs on their heads, to look as if theirs contained more brains than common people have. He read stories of famous heroes and dragon slayers and wanted to be like them and even excel. He boasted that, with a bag and a pair of scissors, he could get the better of any giant living. But when he declared he would some day show them the giant’s carcass, they laughed and said, “That’s only a tailor’s promise.” Yet he always retorted, “You’ll see.”
At any rate, the tailor made up his mind that cunning could accomplish as much as force. So he studied the habits and tastes of giants, to see what they liked best to eat. He soon found that this monster in human shape was very fond of rice pudding, with plenty of sauce and sugar on it. But the tailor never said a word to the giant about knowing this special weakness of his.
One day, while walking on the road to the next town, to take home a suit of clothes to a customer, he suddenly came upon the giant, who at this time was, as usual, very hungry. They both glared at each other, but the giant, speaking first, roared out:
“Here, you fraction of a fellow, come now let us have a trial of strength. I’ll hang you on a tree, if I beat you, and you can skin me alive, if you win.”
At first, the little tailor was so frightened that [[123]]his knees knocked together, and his hat fell off; but, quickly feeling brave again, he answered:
“All right, I’m not afraid of you. Come on, we’ll try.”
The tailor knew that a brainy fellow, with a clear head and a sharp tongue, was more than a match for the big bonehead, any day. So, when the giant picked up a boulder, weighing a ton or so, and threw it into the lake, and then dared the man to do likewise, the tailor answered: