Three good giants

WHILE Gargantua, studying day after day, was finding out that the tasks he had at first thought to be so hard were so easy that they became more a pastime than anything else, and while he was growing to be a skilful soldier and a most learned gentleman, his old father, King Grandgousier, without his knowing it, had got into a terrible muss with certain Bunmakers of Lerne. This is how it happened. It was vintage-time, when the great purple grapes, bursting with their ripeness, were to be gathered, and when the Shepherds of Grandgousier's kingdom used to watch the vines like hawks to prevent the starlings from pecking at the juicy clusters. This vintage-time always made business for the Bunmakers of Lerne. Even when in the best of humor, however, they were always a peppery-touch-nie-if-you-dare sort of fellows. They brought their buns to market along the great highway, in ten or eleven big carts, which filled the air around them with the sweetest odors. Of course, trudging along through the white dust of the road, they were sure to meet King Grandgousier's Shepherds watching their vines, who always made it a rule to step out politely to the edge of the highway, hats in hand, to beg the Bun-makers to give them some of their fine, smoking buns in exchange for their money.

I dare say the Shepherds knew what they were doing. Never were there such buns as the Bunmakers of Lerne had the fame, all around that region, of making. Taken at breakfast with ripe grapes they were a dish fit for a King's table !

By ill luck, this year above all other years, the Bunmakers chose to show how hot and peppery they could be. Being asked by the Shepherds in the usual polite way to sell their buns, they not only refused outright, but they began to call the honest Shepherds all the bad names they could think of. There was one Shepherd named Forgier, — a good man, and a gay one besides, — who, stepping forward, said in a mild voice to the Bunmakers : —

"Friends, this is not acting like neighbors. Haven't you always come by the highway? 

THE EUXMAKERS OF LEKXE.

Haven't you always found us ready to give you good silver and copper for your buns ? And haven't you always had from us in return our fine cheeses, which give their richness to your buns ? "

It is an old saying that oil will make troubled waters still. But old sayings are not always true. This particular saying proved false, for, when the Bunmakers received Forgier's oil, it only set their water on fire. "Come here, sirrah!" shouted Marquet, the chief Bun-maker, to Forgier, "and will give you your buns."

Forgier, being a very worthy, unsuspecting fellow, came near with his money in his hand, like an honest man, thinking all the time that Marquet really would let him have the buns, in spite of his rough voice and sneering tones. What did Marquet do but, with his long whip, cut the good Forgier about his body and legs so as to make him

THE ANGEK OF PICROCHOLE

dance more nimbly than he had ever danced before ! After that, Marquet got a little frightened and wanted to slip away ; but Forgier, while he was bawling for everybody to come to his rescue, took from under his arm a big cudgel, with which he hit the bad Bunmaker such a blow on his head as to make him fall from his horse more like a dead man than a living one.

But this was not the end. The good Shepherds, hearing Forgier's cries for help, rushed from their

grape-vines to the white, dusty road, holding their poles in their hands ready to avenge their comrade. The Bunmakers, peppery as they might be, were just then trying to get off as fast as their horses could carry their carts away; but they were not fast enough to prevent the Shepherds from taking from them four or five dozen delicious buns, for which they offered, like honest men, to pay the usual price. But the Bunmakers were in too great a hurry for that. They laughed angrily at all these offers, and bore Marquet's body, in a dead faint, away with them.

And this was how the great and bloody war between the Bun-makers of Lerne and Gargantua's country began.

The first thing the Bunmakers did, on getting safe home at Lerne, even before taking a bit of food or a sup of wine, was to hasten to the palace, where, bowing low before their King Picrochole, they spread out their broken baskets, torn robes, crushed buns, and, at last, with a grand flourish, displayed Marquet himself all covered with dry blood, and groaning dreadfully.

"Who has dared do this?" shouted King Picrochole, getting very red in the face.

'The Shepherds and vine-watchers of that old Giant Grand-gousier, may it please Your Majesty," answered the Bunmakers.

" Oh ! oh ! oh ! " roared Picrochole furiously.