“You’re welcome, Jack,” sez he, “the King of Ireland’s son, for I haven’t seen the face of a Christian for the last nine hundred years. You slept at my brother’s house last night.”
Then he sat Jack down by the fire, and reaching up the chimney he took down a rat that was hanging in the smoke, and roasting it on the fire, himself and Jack made a hearty supper of it. And they went to bed, each of them lying on a harrow, with a goat-skin over them and one under them. And Jack slept well and sound, and got up in the morning, as fresh as a butterfly. And after they had made a good breakfast on another rat, sez the Giant, sez he,—
“Jack, may I ask you how far you intend going?”
“Well,” sez Jack, sez he, “I may tell you how far I come, but as to how far I’m going it’s more nor I could tell.”
So he starts and he tells the Giant the whole story, and he then asked him if he could give him any information as to where the Giant of the Band-beggars’ Hall lived?
“Well, no,” sez the Giant, sez he, “I heard tell of the Giant of the Band-beggars’ Hall, but that was all. But I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” sez the Giant. “I have command of all the birds of the air, and I’ll call them together to see if they would know anything about him.”
So the Giant blew a whistle, and in a minute the sky was darkened by all the birds of the air gathering together from all corners. And when they were all gathered over the castle the Giant put it to them—Did any of them know anything of
“The Giant of Band-beggars’ Hall,
The greatest Giant over them all.“
But, lo and behold ye, not one of them knew a thing about him; they had heard tell of him, they said, but none of them ever reached to where he lived.
Poor Jack got into bad heart at this intelligence.
“What will I do now,” sez Jack, sez he, to the Giant, “for I’m done now, out and out?”
“I don’t know, Jack,” sez the Giant. “But hold,” sez he, “on second thoughts there’s one eagle that isn’t here. He flies everywhere over the whole known world, and only comes here to see me once in seven years, and I’m expecting him to-day, for it’s just seven years this day since he was with me before. Wait till we see, when he comes, if he has any tidings of him; and if he hasn’t I don’t know what you’ll do.”
And sure enough, that very evening they saw the monstrous big eagle—the like of it, for size, Jack never saw before—coming in a thunder-cloud, darkening the very sky with its wings; and when the Giant saw this, sez he,—
“Now, Jack,” sez he, “it will not do to let you be seen by the eagle, for he would eat any human being he would see, especially now, when he is coming home ravenous after his big fly.”
So he sewed Jack up in a big leathern bag, and hung him by the side of the chimney. And as soon as the eagle had come, the Giant welcomed him and asked him if there was any news.
“No,” sez the eagle very sharp, “where would I get news? I’m dead with hunger,” sez he; “and get me something to eat at once. It will be better for me than gossiping news with you.”
So the Giant went and fetched in a bullock and twelve lambs; and the eagle fell to at once and ate them, bones and all; and he then put his head into his wings and went asleep at once. And the Giant went to bed, too; and Jack was still in the leathern bag, listening to and watching all that was going on. It was late the next morning when the eagle awoke after his big feed. When he did he called for breakfast, and the Giant fetched him in another bullock and twelve lambs, and he ate these up quickly, bones and all; and when he had finished he stroked down his breast with his beak, and flapped his wings two or three times.
“Now,” sez he, “I’m myself again.”
“Do ye know,” sez the Giant, sez he to him, “do ye know, or have ye met in all your travels, the Giant of the Band-beggars’ Hall?”
“What would I know about him?” sez the eagle. Then, sez he, “I was there once, but I’ll never go there again, for it’s away out of the world entirely.”
“Well,” sez the Giant, “he was here lately, and he left that bag to be sent to his place, and he is to behead me if I don’t get it there.”
“Well, I’ll not take it,” sez the eagle.
“Very well, then,” sez the Giant, “I suppose I must wait on my fate.”
At last, after some time, the eagle sez, sez he,—
“Well, you know, I’m under an obligation to you and your family, and I couldn’t refuse you anything; so, I suppose I must take it.”
So the Giant took the bag into a room; to sew a burst that was in it, he told the eagle. Then he put in with Jack as much provisions as would last him for a twelve-month. He bid Jack good-bye and wished him God-speed. And Jack heartily thanked him. He then sewed up the bag again and gave it to the eagle. He took it up and started away on his flight, and he flew on, and on, and on, till the days turned to weeks, and the weeks to months, and poor Jack thought they would never reach their journey’s end. But at length, when they were nearly a year out—though it seemed to Jack to be twenty years since they started—Jack found the eagle slackening in his flight, and coming down, and down, and down, lower and lower, till at length they touched ground, and Jack cut a little hole in the bag to look out of, and there he saw a castle far greater than all the castles put together that ever he had seen before, and out of it there comes a great Giant, and when Jack saw him he didn’t know whether to be glad or sorry, for it was no other nor
“The Giant of Band-beggars’ Hall,
The greatest Giant over them all.“
“You’re welcome,” sez the Giant to the eagle. “It’s so long since you were here I thought I’d never see your face more.”
“It’s seldom come the better,” sez the eagle; “you’ll never see it again if I have my will. And, indeed,” sez he, “if it wasn’t for this bag I was sent with to you, you wouldn’t see me now. There it is,” sez the eagle, “and good-bye.”
So off he flew, and the Giant said to himself he wondered who would be sending a bag to him, or what was in it. So, taking out a big clasp-knife, he cut open the bag, and out my brave Jack steps, and,—
“How do ye do,” sez Jack, sez he, “the Giant of Band-beggars’ Hall, the greatest Giant over them all?”
Well, the Giant, when he caught a glimpse of Jack, was staggered and dumbfoundered.
“Well, Jack,” sez he, at length, when he come to himself, “ye’re a most wonderful fellow. This bangs all ever I knew,” sez he. “I surely thought that I had the better of you; but I see you were too clever by half for me. And I’ll stand to my contract, for you deserve to have your life spared. And more than that,” sez he, “I have a young daughter that I never intended to let marry—for I couldn’t think to get a husband for her that would be to my liking, till I fell in with you—but now that I have met you and seen the uncommon clever man you are entirely, you can have her if she takes your fancy, with a heart and a half, and a handsome fortune.”
Jack said nothing to this till he would see her, for he had a fancy that no matter what fortune she might have—and he suspected the fortune such a Giant could give with her would be no miss—he could find nicer girls in Ireland. But, och, when he saw the very first sight of her, the beauties of Ireland all flew out of his head, and he was head and ears in love with her at once, for the like of her for pure downright loveliness he never before laid his two eyes on. And when her father asked her what she thought of Jack, she couldn’t contain herself, she was that much in love with him. So the thing was settled up at once, for Jack was thinking of his poor father and mother grieving for him at home, and couldn’t delay. Then the Giant of the Band-beggars’ Hall counted out to Jack, as a fortune with the beauty, a sword that the man who fought with it couldn’t be beaten, and a loaf of bread that would never grow less no matter how much was cut off it, and a flask of whisky that would never be emptied no matter how much was drunk from it, and a purse that would always be full no matter how much was taken out of it. He then gave them two wishing-caps that they had only to put them on their heads and wish to be any place, and they would be there. So they took the Giant’s blessing, and putting their caps on their heads, wished to be at the oldest of the three brother Giant’s house that helped Jack; and when they come there Jack gave him the sword, for he said he had no use for it, seeing there wasn’t a man in Ireland he was afraid of. They then put on their caps and wished to be at the next Giant’s; and when they come there, Jack gave him the loaf, for he said Ireland never yet knew want. Then, they put on the caps again, and wished to be at the first Giant’s house that Jack fell in with, and when they came there, Jack gave him the flask of whiskey, for, he said, the rivers in Ireland flowed with it. He kept the purse for himself, saying that he could do good with it. They then put on their caps, and wished to be home in the King’s Castle in Ireland; and home they were at once. And that was the reception was for them! And there was the joy and the rejoicing! And all the country was asked in to the wedding. And such a spread of eating and drinking, and carousing, lasting for nine days, was never known in Ireland afore! But Jack first went on the bridge, and hooked the trout that put its tail to its nose, and winked its eye about at him, and he stuck that trout against the wall with a corker pin through its body for the nine days the feast lasted, till it saw all the rejoicement, and wriggled and twisted, and heartily repented having ever been unrespectful to Jack. From that day forward Jack fished to his heart’s content off the bridge, and he caught no end of the trouts for they couldn’t trick him any longer, and none of them ever afterwards wagged their tails out of the water at Jack, and himself and his beautiful wife lived happy ever after.
