Three good giants

The prisoner made haste to assure Pantagruel that he was his humble slave, and that he would be only too glad, not only if he never should see his people again, but, also, if he should be allowed to fight under the Prince against them. Pantagruel shook his great head at this. No ! no ! he must leave at once, and do what he had been told to do. He gave him at the same time a box full of a strange paste, made with some grains of black chameleon-thistle, steeped in brandy, ordering him to place this in the hands of his King, and say to him that, if he could eat even one ounce of the mixture without wanting to drink after it, he would be able to resist Pantagruel and his whole army without fear.

Then the prisoner began to wring his hands, begging Pantagruel in the hour of battle to have pity on him.

" After thou hast announced all to thy King," answered Pantagruel, gravely, " put all thy trust in God, and He will never forsake thee. Look at me ! I am, as thou canst see, mighty. I can put millions of troops in the Yet I place no reliance on my strength or my skill; but all my trust is in God, my protector, who never abandons those who have their faith in Him. Go, then," he added more kindly, " and, if thou wishest no evil to happen to thee, turn thy back on bad company."

When the prisoner had at last got away, the good Giant turned to his fr i e n d s, saying : "My children, you do not tell lies; ways lawful in war enemy. This is why I have made that had armies on the sea, and, also, that make an assault on their camp till to-morrow at noon. But I have sent a paste that will put them all to sleep to-night, so that they will not be prepared to receive my attack to-morrow, at noon.

THE KING OF THE THIRSTY PEOPLE

know that I but it is alto deceive an prisoner believe we we were not going to

My real purpose is to attack their camp in the hour of their first nap."

But the prisoner — knowing nothing of all this side-talk — walked quickly towards the city, which he soon reached, as you already know it was only three leagues from the coast. As soon as he saw the King, he began the story of how there had come a great Giant, who had routed and caused to be cruelly roasted alive, six hundred and fifty-nine horsemen; and how he, alone of all the troop, had escaped to bring the terrible news. He then went on to state that that wonderful Giant had charged him to say that he would look on His Majesty at dinner-time, and wanted him to make ready for him. Then he presented the box of paste, but, just as soon as the King had swallowed one spoonful, his throat started to burn, and, after a while, his very tongue began to peel off. What was to be done ? There was only one way out of the trouble, and that was for the King to drink — drink — drink, without stopping ! The result was that everybody was bringing the King wine, and pouring it down his royal throat; and if ever he stopped, the royal throat began to burn just as bad as ever. For the Thirsty People, there could be nothing finer than such a sweetmeat, that would make them drink, and drink, and drink again. Nothing would do the pashas, captains, and guardsmen but that they should try the paste to see whether it would produce such thirst in them ; and the moment they did so they were in the same fix as their King, and they all drank so long that a rumor ran through the camp that the prisoner had come back, and that a great attack was to be made the next day by some terrible enemy, of whose name nobody knew. What could be better, then, than to enjoy themselves the night before ? So the captains and the guards began to drink, and clink glasses, and give healths, until they got stupidly drunk, and lay, here and there, where they fell, as so many swine all about the camp.

What was Pantagruel doing in the meanwhile?

As soon as he found that he could no longer see the prisoner trudging along the road — and remember the eyesight of giants is just so much keener than that of common men, as their bodies are stronger — Pantagruel pulled out the mast from his ship, which he carried in his hand like a pilgrim's staff, first putting in the hollow of it two hundred and thirty-seven puncheons of white wine of Anjou. The next thing he did was to tie to his waistband the bark itself, filled with salt, which he carried as readily as women going to market carry their little baskets of vegetables. When they got near the enemy's camp, Pa-nurge said : "My lord, do you wish to do a wise thing? Get that white wine of Anjou down from that mast, and let us drink to our success." Panurge was right in this, because, strong as Pantagruel was, such a weight of wine would have only troubled him if he had to fio-hto He

THE SOLDIERS TRY PANTAGRUEL'S PASTE.