Sixteen roasted beeves, Three heifers,
Thirty-two calves, Sixty-three kids, Ninety-five sheep,
Two hundred and twenty partridges, Seven hundred snipe,
Four hundred capons of Loudunois, Six thousand pullets,
The same number of pigeons,
Six hundred young, but specially fat, pullets, Fourteen hundred young hares, Three hundred and three bustards.
Besides these domestic birds and beasts there were to be found at this wonderful feast, eleven wild boars, kindly sent by the good Abbe de Turpenay ; eighteen red deer, the gift of the Lord of Grandmont; one hundred and forty pheasants, from the Lord of Essars; and such a number of nice things in the shape of turkeys, birds, ducks, wild geese, swans, varied by the best vegetables that could be found, the country round, as had never been known to be brought together on the same table.
I have not yet told something that took place a little while before this great supper. While all were waiting for it, Gargantua suddenly cried out: " Ho ! I feel dreadfully thirsty ! Somebody bring me a lettuce."
Father Grand-gousier, well pleased to grant whatever his son asked, but wanting to see him work a little for his own pleasure, answered him gaily : —
"There are some very fine lettuces growing in yonder garden, my boy. If thou wantest them the best thing thou canst do is to seek them thyself. Thou canst find none so tall as they in all this country." Sure enough, when Gargantua walked into the garden he found lettuces of all sizes ; some as high as plum-trees, and others again quite as tall as walnut-trees. He cut and whacked away at his will, and picked them up in his big arms, without, for a moment, troubling himself about what might be hidden in them. Now, it happened that six pilgrims, who, in coming all the way from St. Sebastian, had decided to rest for the night, had chanced, unfortunately, to be taking a quiet little nap between the cabbages and lettuces of the Royal Garden. When they were snatched up by Gargantua along with the lettuces, the poor pilgrims, only half-awake, were so frightened that they didn't dare even cough, much less say a word.
Gargantua, being a fine, hearty fellow, was rather pleased with the idea of waiting on himself, and so, after carrying his lettuces to the fountain, he thought he might as well wash them, while his merry old father looked on, laughing at the joke. All this time the pilgrims, being half-drowned and in an awful fright, were whispering softly whenever they could get a chance to do so, one to the other: —
" Oh ! what is this monster going to do with us ? What is to become of us ? That fountain is drowning us among all these lettuces ! Shall we speak? But, if we say a word, that big fellow will kill us all as spies, sure. Oh ! we are undone ! "
While the pilgrims were thus giving way to their fears, Gargantua would, every now and then, whirl them around in the water along with his lettuces. Then he put the mess, just as it stood, into the biggest dish in the royal household, adding oil and vinegar and salt, and mixed them all well together. He had no sooner done so than he began to eat the lettuces, and, of course, with the lettuces, to gobble up the poor pilgrims. He had already taken five of them. The sixth was still in the great dish hidden away under a lettuce and, what from the water, and what from fear, was in a cold sweat. All that appeared of him was his pilgrim's staff, which he had never stopped clutching and which peered outside of the green herbs. When Father Grandgousier saw the staff, he cried out to Gargantua : —
" I do believe that is a snail's horn under that lettuce ! Don't eat it."
'Why not, father?" answered Gargantua' "thou knowest snails are good all this month."
What should he do then but draw out the staff and, with it, the unhappy pilgrim, whom, without seeing,— or, for that matter, feeling,— he swallowed with the greatest ease ! Then he poured down his great throat a horrible draught of country wine, while saying: "That salad has given me a famous appetite ! Is supper ready ? "
We already know how the supper went off; and, of course, what we want to know now is how the pilgrims could possibly get out of a Giant's mouth, having once got into it. The first thing they did, on being gobbled up, was to draw themselves out from Gargantua's great
THE PILGRIMS IN THE GARDEN.
teeth as well as they could, thinking all the time that they had been cast into the deepest dungeon of some frightful prison. That was bad enough ; but when Gargantua began to swallow his big drink, tossing the green lettuces past his teeth and sending it rushing down his throat like a sour deluge, they found themselves in a terrible fix and in danger of drowning. It was then that the poor fellows began to hop for their lives. Leaping nimbly, by aid of their staffs, they succeeded at last H getting out of the throat, and finding refuge outside of Gargantua's teeth, By ill luck, however, one of them, feeling here and there with his staff to know whether the country around was quite safe, gave a sudden plunge into the hollow of a bad tooth which had been troubling the Giant for some time. At this, Gargantua began to roar with the pain he felt, All he could think of in his agony was to call for his toothpick. When he got it, he began to prod viciously into the bad tooth. At last he grew tired, and putting his finger into his mouth, he hauled out one of the pilgrims by the leg; another by the wallet; another by his purse ; another by the arm ; and the poor man, who had caused all the trouble, by his neck; and threw each on the ground as one might a fish-bone.
As soon as they found themselves on the ground the pilgrims, without stopping to explain how it happened that they had been found in the lettuce-field, and feeling sure that Gargantua had not seen them, scampered away as fast as their legs could carry them.
CHAPTER XIX.
HOW FRIAR JOHN COMES TO THE FEAST, AND HOW KING GRANDGOUSIER HAD RECRUITED HIS ARMY.
IT was, of course, at this same supper, of which the three Very Fat Cooks were so proud, that the old King, as soon as ever the company were seated, started to give the whole story of the wicked war which Picrochole had made on him. When he came to that part of his story, in which he had to speak of the wonderful things Friar John had done in the Abbey vineyard, nothing would do but that the brave monk should be invited to the Palace to receive the thanks of the whole joyous party. Gargantua sent post-haste for Friar John.
In a little while — for the Abbey was not very far off— here came the good Friar on King Grandgousier's own mule, with his famous staff held firmly in his right hand. When he was once fairly in the dining-room, a thousand caresses and another thousand compliments greeted him.
"Welcome, Friar John ! Thou coiiiest in good time ! Welcome, brave cousin ! " shouted Grandgousier.
"We have kept your seat for you, Friar John," roared both Grandgousier and Gargantua in a sort of giant concert.
And so, at last, seated on the right hand of Grandgousier, the Friar was prevailed on to tell, in his own way, the story of his great fight for the Abbey. Nothing would do them but that everybody should jump up to see and feel for himself the glorious staff, with which so many valiant deeds had been done.
Then the staff was reverently placed in a corner of the room.
After supper, there was a long consultation about what ought to be done with Picrochole. As is always the way, one said one thing; another unsaid it; one had a plan ; some one else had something better. It was finally resolved not to wait for another day, but to start the very next midnight, which — it being now two o'clock in the afternoon— was only ten hours off. While some young men were sent out as spies to bring word what Picrochole was doing, the rest began to arm themselves with breast-plate and back-plate and all the iron and steel plates they could get hold of. There was a little trouble about what Friar John was to wear. They wanted to put their iron and steel stuff on him; but the brave monk wouldn't agree to it. He rushed to the corner where his staff was, grasped it with both hands, and waved it in the air, saying, " Don't trouble yourselves about me, good friends. This is what I saved my Abbey with! I know it, and it knows me; it is good enough for me! I am heart and soul with you. All I ask for is a stout horse, and you will find me with my staff by your side whenever you want me."