{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_59235/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_59235","id":"gutenberg_59235","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/59235","summary":null,"tags":["Category: French Literature","Category: Humour","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Science-Fiction & Fantasy","Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction","Clergy -- Juvenile fiction","Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction","Death -- Juvenile fiction","Fantasy fiction","Giants -- Juvenile fiction","Islands -- Juvenile fiction","Kings and rulers -- Juvenile fiction","Tailors -- Juvenile fiction","War -- Juvenile fiction"],"text":"Produced by Clare Graham in memory of Marc D'Hooghe\n\n\n\n\n\nTHREE GOOD GIANTS\n\nWHOSE FAMOUS DEEDS ARE RECORDED IN THE ANCIENT CHRONICLES\n\nOF\n\nFRAN\u00c7OIS RABELAIS\n\n\nCOMPILED FROM THE FRENCH\n\nBY\n\nJOHN DIMITRY, A.M.\n\n\nIllustrated by Gustave Dor\u00e9 and A. Robida\n\n\nBOSTON AND NEW YORK\n\nHOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY\n\nThe Riverside Press Cambridge\n\nCopyright, 1887\n\nBY TICKNOR AND COMPANY\n\n_All rights reserved_\n\n\n[Illustration: GARGANTUA ON THE TOWER OF N\u00d4TRE D\u00c2ME.]\n\n\n\n\nAN EXPLANATION BY WAY OF PREFACE.\n\n[Illustration: Portrait of Fran\u00e7ois Rabelais]\n\n\nI freely admit what all the world knows about FRAN\u00c7OIS RABELAIS.\n\nLong before the day when Fielding and Smollett began to be read on the\nsly, and before the comic Muse of Congreve and Wycherly began to be\nlooked at askance, that English moral sentiment, over which Macaulay\nwas to philosophize more than a century later, had solidified in\nignoring Rabelais. Nothing is to be said against the sentiment itself.\nThis has always been fairly righteous, if just a bit undiscriminating.\nA great humorist, showing himself content to grovel in the dirt, is,\nbeyond question, deserving of black looks and shut doors. But more\nthan most old masters of a type, strong, albeit coarse, Rabelais--from\nthe distinctly marked physical attributes of his chief personages--may\nclaim certain good points which, drawn out and grouped together, ought\nto fall within the circle of those tales which interest children.\n\nI have read Rabelais twice in my life. Each time, I have read him\nin that old French, which has no master quite so great as he; and\neach time in Auguste Desrez's edition, which, in its careful _Table\ndes Mati\u00e8res_, learned glossary, quaint notes, Gallicized Latin and\nGreek words, and a complete _Rabelaisiana_, shows the devotion of\nthe rare editor, who does not distort, because he understands, the\nMaster whom he edits. When I first peeped into his pages I was a lad,\naltogether too young to be tainted by profanity, while I skipped,\ntrue boy-fashion, whole pages to pick out the wondrous story of his\nGiants. When I came back to him, after many years, I was both older\nand, I hope, wiser. Being older, I had learned to gauge him better,\nboth in his strength and in his weakness. I had come to see wherein an\nold prejudice was too just to be safely resisted; and, on the other\nhand, wherein it had got to be so deeply set that it had hardened to\ninjustice. As I went on, it did not take me long to discover that\nit was quite possible for my purpose--following, indeed, the path\nunconsciously taken in my boyhood--to divide Rabelais sharply into\nincident and philosophy. That this had not been thought of before\nsurprised, but did not daunt me. I said to myself: I shall limit\nthe incident strictly to his three Giants; I shall hold these, from\ngrandfather to grandson, well together; keep all that is sound in\nthem; cut away the impurity which is not so much _of_ as _around_\nthem; chisel them out as a sculptor might, and leave his philosophy\nwith face to the wall. This done, I turned the scouring hose, full and\nstrong, upon the incidents themselves, clearing out both dialectics and\nprofanity thoroughly. I did not stop until I had left the famous trio,\nGRANDGOUSIER, GARGANTUA, and PANTAGRUEL where I had, from the first,\nhoped to place them,--high and dry above the scum which had so long\nclogged their rare good-fellowship, and which had made men of judgment\nblind to the genuine worth that was in them.\n\nIn this way I believed that I saw the chance to free Rabelais' Giants,\nso long kept in bonds, from a captivity which has dishonored them.\nTo do this was clearly running against that good old law which has\ninvariably made all Giants--far back from fairy-time--thunder-voiced,\ngreat-toothed, rude-handed, hard-hearted, bloody-minded creatures\nand truculent captors, never, on any account, pitiful captives. But,\nto such, the Rabelaisian Giants are none of kin. No more are they of\nblood to that Giant that Jack slew, or that Giant Despair, in whose\ngarden-court Bunyan dreamt that he saw the white bones of slaughtered\npilgrims.\n\nPublic sentiment has hitherto illogically retched at the name of\nRabelais, while it swallows without qualm \"Tristram Shandy\" and\n\"Gulliver's Travels.\" Shall it always retch? The time, I think, is\npractically taking the answer into its own hands. Rabelais, through\nsome cotemporaneous influence, rising subtly in his favor among men\nwho are neither afraid nor ashamed to judge for themselves, is, in one\nsense, slowly becoming a naturalized citizen of our modern Literary\nRepublic. Literature and Art are joining hands in his rehabilitation.\nMr. Walter Besant, a novelist, has been so good as to write his life;\nto say bright words about him; and to quote clean things from him.\nMrs. Oliphant, a purist, has consented to admit him into her \"Foreign\nClassics for English Readers.\" Three years ago M. Emile H\u00e9bert's bronze\nstatue of him was unveiled at that Chinon, his birthplace, which he\nlovingly calls \"the most ancient city of the world.\" And, to crown\nall, as the latest expression of a tardy recognition, his bust by M.\nTruph\u00e8me was, only the other day, uncovered at that Meudon of which he\nwas, for a time, the famous, if not always orthodox, Cur\u00e9.\n\nRabelais himself never, it is clear, appreciated his Giants save for\nthe contrasted jollity which they lent to his satires.\n\n    \"_Mieulx est de ris que de larmes escripre,_\n    _Pour ce que rire est le propre de lhomme,_\"\n\nwas his maxim. But this maxim never rose to a creed. His Giants seem,\nalmost against his will, to stride beyond the territory of mere\nburlesque. They are as easily free from theology as from science.\nThey have never been of La B\u00e2mette. They are as far from Montpellier.\nTo these colossal creations, heroes fashioned in ridicule of the old\nfantastico-chivalric deeds of their age, as they come down more and\nmore from the clouds, are more and more given the feelings common to\nthis earth's creatures. All three bear, from their birth, a sturdy\nhuman sympathy not natural to their kind, as medi\u00e6val superstition\nclassed it. Two of them, in being brought to the level of humanity,\njoin with this a simple Christian manliness and a childlike faith under\nall emergencies, not set on their own massive strength, but fixed on\nGod, whom they had been taught to know, and honor, and serve--and all\nthis by whom? Forsooth, by the same Fran\u00e7ois Rabelais, laugher, mocker,\nand \"insensate reviler.\" From Grandgousier, the good-hearted guzzler,\nthrough Gargantua, with his heady youth and wise old age, to \"the noble\nPantagruel,\" the gain in purity and Christian manhood is steady. The\nroyal race of Chalbroth follows no track beaten down by other kingly\nlines known to history. While their line descends from father to son,\nit ascends in virtue.\n\nOne charge--a legacy from the narrow times when run-mad commentators\nspied a plot in every folio--has followed, to this day, Rabelais and\nhis work. Wise men have, to their own satisfaction, proved the latter\nto be an enigma filled with hidden meanings, dangerous to state and\nmorals; with mad attacks directed, from every chapter, against ordered\nsociety; with satiric thrusts lurking, in every sentence, against\nPope, and King, and nobles; in brief, a Malay-muck run with a pen,\ninstead of a knife, against the moral foundations of the world. All\nthese, if not true, are certainly \"like, very like\" the Rabelais as\nhe is painted by purists in the gallery of great authors. If true,\nthey have wrought more subtly than all else in the forging of those\nheavy chains which have been bound, coil upon coil, around his hapless\nbig men. It is not to be wondered at that even their mighty number of\ncubits should have been smothered under the fine, slow-settling dust\nof three centuries. Happily, however, fair play has been, of old, the\nstanding boast of all English-speaking men. Fran\u00e7ois Rabelais--never\nonce deigning to ask for it at home, when living--has, in penalty\ntherefor, been ferociously denied it abroad, when dead. To that\nsentiment--moved, it may be, by a concurrent testimony given, in this\nage, to the memory of the author himself--I appeal now in behalf of his\nGiants. That they have fared badly through all these centuries, mostly\nby reason of him, cannot be gainsaid. That of themselves, however, they\nhave in no wise merited such ostracism, is what I have ventured to\nclaim in this compilation. Freed alike from that prejudice which has\nhunted them down, and from those formidable\n\n    \"... points of ignorance\n    Pertaining thereunto,\"\n\nwhich have, so far, blocked every avenue to modern sympathy, I would\nhave them honored, among all stout lovers of fair play, as I leave them\nin this \"Explanation by way of Preface.\"\n\n J. D.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\nLIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nHow the First Giants came into the World.\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nGargantua is Born.\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\nGargantua as a Baby.\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\nThe Royal Tailor's Bill for Gargantua's Suit.\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\nThe Year Gargantua had Wooden Horses, and what Use he made of them.\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\nHow Gargantua was taught Latin.\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\nThe new Master found for Gargantua.\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII.\n\nGargantua goes to Paris, and the Big Mare that takes him there.\n\n\nCHAPTER IX.\n\nThe Parisians laugh at Gargantua. He takes his Revenge by stealing the\nGreat Bells of N\u00f4tre D\u00e2me.\n\n\nCHAPTER X.\n\nPonocrates, the new Teacher, desires Gargantua to show him how he used\nto study with old Master Holofernes.\n\n\nCHAPTER XI.\n\nThe Two Hundred and Fifteen Games of Cards Gargantua knew how to play.\nWhat it was he said after he had gone through the List, and what it was\nPonocrates remarked.\n\n\nCHAPTER XII.\n\nGargantua is dosed by Ponocrates, and forgets all that Holofernes had\ntaught him.\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII.\n\nHow Gargantua was made not to lose one Hour of the Day.\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV.\n\nHow the Awful War between the Bunmakers of Lerne and Gargantua's\nCountry was begun.\n\n\nCHAPTER XV.\n\nHow old King Grandgousier received the News.\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI.\n\nHow Grandgousier tried to buy Peace with Five Cart-loads of Buns.\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII.\n\nHow Gargantua, with a Big Tree, broke down a Castle, and passed the\nFord of Vede.\n\n\nCHAPTER XVIII.\n\nHow Gargantua combed Cannon-Balls out of his Hair, and how he ate Six\nPilgrims in a Salad before Supper.\n\n\nCHAPTER XIX.\n\nHow Friar John comes to the Feast, and how King Grandgousier had\nrecruited his Army.\n\n\nCHAPTER XX.\n\nGargantua's Mare scores a Victory.\n\n\nCHAPTER XXI.\n\nShowing what Gargantua did after the Battle, and how Grandgousier\nwelcomed him Home.\n\n\nCHAPTER XXII.\n\nGrandgousier's Death. Gargantua's Marriage. Pantagruel is Born.\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIII.\n\nThe Strange Things Pantagruel did as a Baby.\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIV.\n\nAfter studying at several Universities, Pantagruel goes to Paris.\n\n\nCHAPTER XXV.\n\nPantagruel finds Panurge, whom he loves all his life.\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVI.\n\nPantagruel beats the Sorbonne in Argument, and Panurge proves that an\nEnglishman's fingers are not so nimble as a Frenchman's.\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVII.\n\nWhat sort of Man Panurge was, and the many Tricks he knew.\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVIII.\n\nShowing why the Leagues are so much shorter in France than in Germany.\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIX.\n\nHow the Cunning of Panurge, with the Aid of Eusthenes and Carpalim,\ndiscomfited Six Hundred and Sixty Horsemen.\n\n\nCHAPTER XXX.\n\nHow Carpalim went hunting for Fresh Meat, and how a Trophy was set up.\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXI.\n\nThe Strange Way in which Pantagruel obtained a Victory over the Thirsty\nPeople.\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXII.\n\nThe Wonderful Way in which Pantagruel disposed of the Giant Loupgarou\nand his Two Hundred and Ninety-Nine Giants.\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXIII.\n\nHow Pantagruel finally conquers the Thirsty People, and the strange\nbusiness Panurge finds for King Anarchus.\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXIV.\n\nGargantua comes back from Fairy-land, after which Pantagruel prepares\nfor another Trip.\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXV.\n\nPantagruel starts on his Travels, and lands at the Island of Pictures.\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXVI.\n\nPanurge bargains with Dindeno for a Ram, and throws his Ram overboard.\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXVII.\n\nThe Island of Alliances.\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXVIII.\n\nHow Pantagruel came to the Islands of Tohu and Bohu. The Strange Death\nof Widenostrils, the Swallower of Windmills.\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXIX.\n\nA Great Storm, in which Panurge plays the Coward.\n\n\nCHAPTER XL.\n\nThe Island of the Macreons and its Forest, in which the Heroes who are\ntempted by Demons die.\n\n\nCHAPTER XLI.\n\nPantagruel touches at the Wonderful Island of Ruach, where Giant\nWidenostrils had found the Cocks and Hens which killed him. How the\nPeople lived by Wind.\n\n\nCHAPTER XLII.\n\nPantagruel, with his Darts, kills a Monster which Cannon-Balls could\nnot hurt. The Power of the Sign of the Cross.\n\n\nCHAPTER XLIII.\n\nWhich tells of several Islands, and the Wonderful People who dwell in\nthem.\n\n\n\n\nLIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS\n\n\nFULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS.\n\n\nGARGANTUA ON THE TOWER OF N\u00d4TRE D\u00c2ME.\n\nFRIAR JOHN ATTACKS THE BUNMAKERS.\n\nGARGANTUA DESTROYS THE CASTLE.\n\nTHE DEFEAT OF PICROCHOLE.\n\nPANTAGRUEL ENTERS PARIS.\n\nTHE DISPUTATION.\n\nTHE DEATH OF LOUPGAROU.\n\nPANTAGRUEL IN THE GRAVEYARD.\n\nTHE ISLE OF GANABIM.\n\nTHE QUEEN OF LANTERNS.\n\n\n\nENGRAVINGS IN THE TEXT.\n\n\nPORTRAIT OF FRAN\u00c7OIS RABELAIS.\n\nCASTLE GRANDGOUSIER.\n\nTHE GIANT CHALBROTH.\n\nTHE GIANT HURTALI ON THE ARK.\n\nINITIAL K.\n\nKING GRANDGOUSIER KEEPS OPEN HOUSE.\n\nTHE KING AND QUEEN LOVE TRIPES.\n\nINITIAL W.\n\nTHE QUEEN LOOKED AT HER BABY.\n\nAN UNCOMMON BABY CARRIAGE.\n\nTHE SERVANTS GOT TO BE SAD TOPERS.\n\nINITIAL W.\n\nMAKING GARGANTUA'S SUIT.\n\nMEASURING GARGANTUA FOR HIS SUIT.\n\nGARGANTUA AT PLAY.\n\nGARGANTUA'S HORSE.\n\nGARGANTUA'S RIDING LESSONS.\n\nA NOBLE LORD CAME ON A VISIT.\n\n\"ONLY THREE LITTLE STEPS.\"\n\nINITIAL O.\n\nTUBAL HOLOFERNES.\n\nTHE FRIEND WHO KNEW LATIN.\n\nFLIGHT OF THE TUTOR.\n\nINITIAL W.\n\nEUDEMON.\n\nINITIAL T.\n\nGARGANTUA'S MARE.\n\nPONOCRATES.\n\nINITIAL T.\n\nGARGANTUA ENTERS PARIS.\n\nTHE CITY WAS EXCITED.\n\nINITIAL G.\n\nGARGANTUA GETS UP.\n\nGARGANTUA BREAKFASTS.\n\nGARGANTUA GOES TO CHURCH.\n\nINITIAL T.\n\nGARGANTUA LOOKS INTO THE KITCHEN.\n\nINITIAL W.\n\nPONOCRATES DOSES GARGANTUA.\n\nGARGANTUA AT HIS LESSONS.\n\nINITIAL E.\n\nGARGANTUA LEARNS TO SHOOT.\n\nGARGANTUA LEARNS TO CLIMB.\n\nGARGANTUA STUDIES ASTRONOMY.\n\nINITIAL W.\n\nTHE BUNMAKERS OF LERNE.\n\nTHE ANGER OF PICROCHOLE.\n\nCAPTAIN SWILLWIND'S CAVALRY.\n\nSPOILING THE MONKS.\n\nFRIAR JOHN TO THE RESCUE.\n\nINITIAL W.\n\nPICROCHOLE'S ARMY.\n\nGRANDGOUSIER WRITES TO GARGANTUA.\n\nINITIAL K.\n\nGRANDGOUSIER'S EMBASSY.\n\nINITIAL G.\n\nGARGANTUA HURRIES HOME.\n\nGYMNASTE WARMS HIMSELF.\n\nTHE CASTLE OF ROCHE-CLERMAUD.\n\nCANNONADING GARGANTUA.\n\nINITIAL G.\n\nGARGANTUA COMBS HIS HAIR.\n\nAND SUCH A SUPPER!\n\nTHE PILGRIMS IN THE GARDEN.\n\nINITIAL I.\n\nFRIAR JOHN ARRIVES.\n\nTHE ADVANCE-GUARD STARTS.\n\nGRANDGOUSIER'S ARMY.\n\nINITIAL T.\n\nMOUNTING FOR THE FRAY.\n\nTHE ASSAULT.\n\nPICROCHOLE DEFENDS THE CASTLE.\n\nTHE FLIGHT OF PICROCHOLE.\n\nINITIAL W.\n\nGARGANTUA'S CAPTIVES.\n\nGARGANTUA REWARDING THE ARMY.\n\nTHE WONDERFUL WINDING STAIRWAY.\n\nINITIAL A.\n\nTHE DREADFUL DROUGHT.\n\nINITIAL G.\n\nTHE FUNERAL OF QUEEN BADEBEC.\n\nPANTAGRUEL'S PORRINGER.\n\nPANTAGRUEL CARRIES HIS CRADLE.\n\nINITIAL S.\n\nTHE GREAT CROSS-BOW OF CHANTELLE.\n\nTHE GREAT RAISED STONE.\n\nPANTAGRUEL VISITS HIS ANCESTOR'S TOMB.\n\nPANTAGRUEL SETTLES AT ORLEANS.\n\nPANTAGRUEL IN THE LIBRARY.\n\nINITIAL O.\n\nPANTAGRUEL MEETS PANURGE.\n\nINITIAL W.\n\nAT THE GATES OF SORBONNE.\n\nTHAUMASTES VISITS PANTAGRUEL.\n\nTHE GREAT COLLEGE WAS PACKED.\n\nPANURGE REPLIES.\n\nINITIAL T.\n\nPANURGE GETS MONEY.\n\nPANURGE AND THE DIRT-CARTS.\n\nPANURGE'S FUN.\n\nINITIAL A.\n\nPANTAGRUEL MARCHES TO ROUEN.\n\nINITIAL S.\n\nTHE VOYAGE BEGINS.\n\nPANURGE DISCOMFITS THE HORSEMEN.\n\nINITIAL W.\n\nCARPALIM CATCHES SOME FRESH MEAT.\n\nTHE TROPHY.\n\nINITIAL W.\n\nTHE KING OF THE THIRSTY PEOPLE.\n\nTHE SOLDIERS TRY PANTAGRUEL'S PASTE.\n\nINITIAL A.\n\nTHE FIGHT WITH LOUPGAROU.\n\nINITIAL A.\n\nWELCOME TO PANTAGRUEL.\n\nGRANDER AND MIGHTIER THAN EVER.\n\nPANTAGRUEL RETURNS.\n\nINITIAL O.\n\nINITIAL A.\n\nPANTAGRUEL PICKS HIS SHIPS.\n\nPANTAGRUEL SETS SAIL.\n\nLANDING AT THE ISLE OF PICTURES.\n\nPANTAGRUEL BUYS SOME STRANGE ANIMALS.\n\nTHE LAND OF SATIN.\n\nINITIAL F.\n\nPANURGE WANTS A SHEEP.\n\nPANURGE BUYS A RAM.\n\nPANURGE THROWS HIS RAM OVERBOARD.\n\nTHE SHEEP AND SHEPHERDS DROWN.\n\nINITIAL A.\n\nTHE ACE-OF-CLUBS NOSES.\n\nINITIAL P.\n\nGIANT WIDENOSTRILS, THE SWALLOWER OF WINDMILLS.\n\nINITIAL T.\n\nA STORM COMES ON.\n\nPANTAGRUEL HOLDS THE MAST.\n\nA SEA BREAKS OVER PANURGE.\n\nLAND IN SIGHT.\n\nIT WAS LATE IN THE AFTERNOON.\n\nINITIAL T.\n\nPANURGE REVIVES.\n\nTHE DARK AND GLOOMY FOREST.\n\nTHE DEMONS AND THE HEROES.\n\n\"WE HAD LOST ANOTHER GOOD HERO.\"\n\nINITIAL A.\n\nTHE LAND OF WIND.\n\n\"WITHOUT WIND WE MUST DIE.\"\n\nINITIAL A.\n\nPANTAGRUEL SPIES A MONSTER.\n\nSHOOTING AT THE WHALE.\n\nPANTAGRUEL TRIES HIS HAND.\n\nDEATH OF THE MONSTER.\n\nLANDING THE MONSTER.\n\nON WILD ISLAND.\n\nINITIAL N.\n\nTHE HOSPITABLE FOLK OF PAPIMANY.\n\nTHE MAYOR RODE UP.\n\nENTERING THE FROZEN SEA.\n\nA SHOWER OF FROZEN WORDS.\n\nLANDING ON THE ROCKS.\n\nMASTER GASTER.\n\nSHARP ISLAND.\n\nTHE SHORES OF LANTERNLAND.\n\n\n\n\nTHREE GOOD GIANTS.\n\n[Illustration: CASTLE GRANDGOUSIER.]\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nHOW THE FIRST GIANTS CAME INTO THE WORLD.\n\n\nAt the beginning of the world the pure blood of Abel, shed by his\nwicked brother Cain, made the soil very rich. Every fruit seemed\nto grow that year to a dozen times its usual size. But the fruit\nthat seemed to thrive best, and to taste most toothsome, and to be\nmost eaten, was the medlar. So much of that fruit was eaten at that\nparticular time that the year came to be called the \"Year of Medlars.\"\n\nNow, in this \"Year of Medlars,\" the good men and women who lived then\nhappened to eat a little too much of this fine fruit. It was all very\nnice while it was being eaten; but, somehow, after a little time it was\nfound that terrible swellings, but not all in the same place, came out\non those who had shown themselves too fond of the fruit.\n\nSome grew big and twisted in their shoulders, and became what were\nafterwards called Hunch-backs.\n\nSome found themselves with longer legs than others, which, being quite\nas thin and bony as they were long, made malicious people, who had not\neaten of the fruit, shout, \"Crane! Crane! Long-legged Crane!\" whenever\none of the poor people showed himself.\n\nSome there were who could boast of a nose as red as it was long and\nknotty, which made evil-tongued men say they had been more among the\ngrapes than among the medlars. But this was, after all, the fault of\nthe medlars. There was no doubt of that.\n\nOthers, having a special love for picking out everybody's secrets,\nfound their medlars running into big ears, which grew so long that they\nsoon hung down to their breasts. And those who once had the Big Ear\nlost, after that, all desire for other people's secrets, because their\nears were so large they caught everything bad their neighbors were\nalways saying about them.\n\nOthers--and now, listen--grew long in legs, but not longer in legs than\nthey grew stout in body, and it was from these people that the Giants\nsprang. When those who grew so long in legs and so stout in body began\nto walk on the earth, the neighbors did their best to please them. You\nmay be sure there was no talk about medlars then.\n\nThe first who became known as a giant was called CHALBROTH.\n\n[Illustration: THE GIANT CHALBROTH.]\n\nCHALBROTH was the father of all the Giants, and the great-grandfather\nof Hurtali, who reigned in the time of the Deluge, and who was lucky\nenough not to be drowned in the deep waters.\n\nDoubtless, the eyes of some of my young readers are twinkling, and they\nare ready to cry out very positively: \"Oh, no! There was no Giant in\nNoah's Ark, you know. How could there be? Only Noah and his family were\nin the Ark. The Bible says that!\"\n\nThere was one Wise Man, however, who lived a long time after the first\nGiant had appeared, and after many great ones had been noticed, and who\nhad seen some with his own eyes. This Wise Man had thought, in a quiet\nway, a great deal about the Big People, and, through much study, had\nfound out why it was they were not all drowned.\n\nThis Wise Man makes himself very clear on this point. He says that\nHurtali--the great-grandson of Chalbroth, the first Giant--escaped the\nDeluge, not by getting _into_ the Ark,--it was altogether too small for\nthat,--but by getting _outside_ of it. In other words, he used it as\na man strides a horse, riding on top of it, with one huge leg hanging\nover the right side and the other over the left. If Hurtali was very\nheavy, the Blessed Ark was very stout. He got so used to his seat after\na while, that, being on the outside, and able to see everything around\nhim, he made his long legs do for the Ark just what the rudder of a\nship does for her. He must have saved it from many and many a rough\nshock against jutting mountains and sharp rocks as the waters were\nrising, and as, after covering the earth, they began to sink lower\nand lower; but it may be relied on--since the Wise Man says so--that,\nduring the forty days and nights, Giant Hurtali was on the best of\nterms with Noah and all his family. This might look strange; but it\nappears that there was on the top of the Ark a chimney, and it was\nthrough this chimney that Hurtali could always, for the asking, have\nhis share of his favorite pottage handed up to him.\n\n[Illustration: THE GIANT HURTALI ON THE ARK.]\n\nIt would really be of no use to tell the names of all the Giants who\ncame between Hurtali and our merry old King Grandgousier. Some of\nthem you already know. Long after Hurtali came Goliath, the Giant,\nwhom young David slew with his sling and stone; Briareus, the Greek\nGiant of a hundred hands; King Porus, the Indian Giant, who fought\nwith Alexander, and was defeated by him; and the famous Giant Bruyer,\nslain by Ogier the Dane, Peer of France. There are so many of them\nthat I would soon grow tired of giving, and you of hearing, even their\nnames. All that we care about knowing is that, in a straight line from\nHurtali, the Giant who rode on the Blessed Ark, the fifty-fourth was\nGRANDGOUSIER, who was the father of GARGANTUA, who, in his turn, was\nthe father of PANTAGRUEL.\n\nThese are the three Giants whose story I am about to tell, two of whom\nwill prove more wonderful heroes than are to be read of either in\nancient or modern history.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nGARGANTUA IS BORN.\n\n\n[Illustration: INITIAL K.]\n\nKing Grandgousier--the fifty-seventh in a straight line from Chalbroth,\nthe first Giant--was a jovial King in his day. Although a Giant, he\nwas the pink of politeness and kindly feeling. His whole life was one\ncontinual dinner. He was very fond of his own ease, this jovial King,\nbut he also loved to make those around him happy. He kept open house,\nand the sun never rose on a day when there was not some high lord or\nsome poor pilgrim at his table, eating and drinking of his best. He had\na great horror of seeing people thirsty around him. \"There is too much\ngood wine flowing in my kingdom for anybody to feel thirsty. Everybody\nshould drink before he is dry,\" he was fond of saying. So one of the\nmain duties of his Chief Butler Turelupin was to make all the servants,\nall comers and goers, drink before they were dry. It was said to take\neighteen hundred pipes of wine yearly to do this. He never was known to\nlook at the clothes a guest wore,--oh, no, not he, that good, hearty\nold King Grandgousier! And it was a pretty sight to see, whenever a\nguest or a friend wished to say anything privately, how tenderly the\nold Giant would pick him up, and put him on his knee, and bend his\ngreat head and listen ever so carefully to try and find out what he had\nto say. His head was lifted so far above the ground that, otherwise,\none would have had to shout out loud enough for all in the palace to\nhear.\n\n[Illustration: KING GRANDGOUSIER KEEPS OPEN HOUSE.]\n\nKing Grandgousier was very fond of his wine, and could drink,--being a\ngiant,--at a single meal, more than a dozen common men could manage\nto swallow at a dozen meals each.[1] He was also very fond of salt\nmeat. He never failed to have on hand a good supply of French hams,\nfrom Mayence and Bayonne,--the finest known in those days,--superb\nsmoked beef-tongues; an abundance of chitterlings, when in season,\nand salt beef, with mustard to spice the whole. All these fine\nthings were reinforced by sausages from Bigorre, Longaulnay, and\nRouargue,--the very best in all France. But there was something which\nKing Grandgousier loved above everything in the way of eating, and that\nwas _tripes_. So fond was he of them that he had ordered all the royal\nmeadows to be searched, and all the fat beeves grazing in the royal\nmeadows, three hundred and sixty-seven thousand and fourteen of them,\nto be killed, so that there might be plenty of powdered beef to flavor\nthe royal wine for the season. Then he had the Royal Herald, with great\nflourish of trumpets, to name a day on which all his neighbors--brave\nfellows and good players at ninepins--were to join him in a Great Feast\nof Tripes.\n\n[1] Children must remember that times have changed for the better since\nthe wild days of these old giants. To drink so hard and long that a\nman, from too much wine, would fall under the table and lie there\nbecause not able to move, was looked upon as a virtue then. Now, in\nour happier days, we know it to be a virtue for a man to keep himself\nsober, and a shame for him to be seen drunk.\n\n[Illustration: THE KING AND QUEEN LOVE TRIPES.]\n\nKing Grandgousier had a fair and stately wife named Gargamelle. She was\na daughter of the King of the Parpaillons, and was herself a giantess,\nbut not quite so tall as her husband. Grandgousier and Gargamelle\ndearly loved one another, and all that they wanted in this world was a\nson to bear the father's name, and be King after him. Queen Gargamelle\nliked to be in the open air, and see games of ninepins and ball and\nleap-frog played by nimble men and women. And Grandgousier, at such\ngames, was always found seated at her side, like a good husband,\nseeming to enjoy them as much as she did.\n\nAt last, one fine day, a little boy was born to them.\n\nHe must have been a wonderful baby; because just as soon as he was\nborn, instead of crying \"_Mie! mie! mie!_\" as any other baby would have\ndone, he shouted out at the top of his lungs, \"Drink! drink! drink!\"\nThere never were such lungs as his, everybody said. The old Doctor\nhimself, and the Three Wise Old Women who were there, all declared that\nhe had the biggest throat ever known,--not even excepting his father's.\nNow it happened that, of all the days of the year, the very day the\nRoyal Herald had proclaimed, with flourish of trumpets, for the famous\nFeast of Tripes, was the very day on which the baby Prince was born.\nWhen the great news was carried to King Grandgousier, who was drinking\nand making merry with his friends, that he had a son, and that the\nyoung Prince was already bawling for his drink, his joy almost choked\nhim, and he could only find breath to say in French:--\n\n\"_Que grand tu as!_\"--meaning \"What a big throat thou hast!\"\n\nEverybody, including Queen Gargamelle, when she heard of it, the\nfamily Doctor, and the Three Old Wise Women, laughed at this joke of\nthe King, and declared that it was the very best name that could be\ngiven to the royal babe. From that moment, they began, when talking to\nhim or speaking of him, to call him little Prince _Que-grand-tu-as!_\nAlthough they ran these four words trippingly together, and nobody not\nin the secret would have thought it more than a very strange name, yet,\nsomehow, it was too long; and so, little by little, they kept changing\ntill the very oldest of the Three Old Wise Women, who had been, one hot\nday, half-dozing over the cradle, started up suddenly, crying:--\n\n\"I have it!\"\n\n\"Well, what have you?\" called the second oldest, who was wide awake,\nsharply.\n\n\"The name for our dear little Prince!\"\n\n\"Don't be too sure of that, gossip. But why don't you say what it is?\"\nshe snapped in an awful curiosity, and just the least bit jealous.\n\n\"GARGANTUA!\"\n\n\"Oh, my!\" said the third oldest, who was a mild sort of old lady.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nSome say that it was the lords and neighbors who were feasting on the\ntripes, when the old King cried out, _Que grand tu as!_ who had shouted\nback that the young Prince ought to be called \"Gargantua.\" I am rather\nafraid that the oldest of the Three Wise Old Women had been listening\nat the door of the royal banqueting hall, when she ought to have been\nin Queen Gargamelle's chamber.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\nGARGANTUA AS A BABY.\n\n\n[Illustration: Initial W.]\n\nWhen Father Grandgousier heard that the name which the very oldest\nof the Wise Women had found for his son had been fixed for all time,\nhe was delighted beyond measure, and said to Queen Gargamelle, while\nrubbing the palms of his great hands together:--\n\n\"So the witch has fastened 'Gargantua' on my boy after all. By my\ncrown! what we have to do now is never to let Master Great Throat be\nempty. Now, tell me, my dear, where are we to get milk enough for that\nthroat?\"\n\nThe Queen looked at her baby; then she looked at her husband; then she\nlooked into herself, and, finding nothing there to say, smiled, and\nsaid nothing.\n\n[Illustration: THE QUEEN LOOKED AT HER BABY.]\n\nWhen Father Grandgousier called into the Queen's chamber, for a secret\nconference, his Royal Butler, who, first asking permission of their\nMajesties, called the Royal Steward, who called the Royal Dairyman,\nwho called the Chief Milkman. After a long talk behind closed doors,\nthe whole party filed out of the royal apartments, the Chief Milkman\nholding in his hand a scroll, showing a large, red seal, and tied many\ntimes around with a broad, red ribbon, the Royal Butler closing the\nline and looking wise as a privy-councillor.\n\nThe scroll contained an order, authorizing the Chief Milkman--as\nthere were not cows enough in the whole kingdom to give such milk as\nwas needed for the young Prince--to furnish the remainder. So there\nwere brought to the royal cattle-yard seventeen thousand nine hundred\nand thirteen cows, all famed for the richness of their milk. Master\nGargantua had, luckily, with the milk of these cows, enough to keep\nhim alive until he was a year and ten months old. Then the wise old\nDoctor thought that the child ought to be taken more into the fresh\nair. In fact, what the Doctor really wanted, and was half crazy about\nnot finding, was a carriage suited to the young Prince. A common baby\ncarriage would not do at all. At last a youthful page, who dearly loved\nthe strong oxen he had seen during the frequent visits he was fond of\nmaking to the royal stables, thought a fine large cart, not too pretty\nbut very strong, and drawn by oxen, might do. The oxen were ready, but\nthey could not be used until the Royal Carpenter had measured and made\na cart that would hold the young giant.\n\n[Illustration: AN UNCOMMON BABY CARRIAGE.]\n\nThere never was a happier baby than Gargantua the first time he was\nplaced in the cart. He was, in truth, a marvel of a baby, both because\nhis body was so big and his face was so broad that, from much drinking\nof milk and good wines, he could boast of several chins,--some said\nnine; others swore there were ten,--which lapped each one over the\nother, as if they felt they were good company. Every day he would be\ntaken out to ride. Then when he was tired he would cry, \"Drink! drink!\ndrink!\" Whenever that cry was heard, presto! the cart would come to a\nstand-still, the oxen would begin to munch, and everybody would make a\nrush to the wine-cellar. Of course, the King's son always had the best\nwines, and the lackey who was lucky enough to reach him first when he\ncried for drink always had the right to a cupful for himself. So it is\nquite certain that never was a baby so well waited on as was Gargantua.\nHe cried \"_Drink! drink! drink!_\" so often that all the servants got\nto be sad topers from skipping off to the cellars whenever he called;\nand it turned out at last that even the tinkling of an empty glass, as\na knife would strike against it, or the sight of a flagon or a bottle,\nwould make him jump up and dance with joy, and start him afresh to\nbawling for \"Drink! drink! drink!\" and the lackeys to scampering to the\nwine-cellar after the wine.\n\n[Illustration: THE SERVANTS GOT TO BE SAD TOPERS.]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\nTHE ROYAL TAILOR'S BILL FOR GARGANTUA'S SUIT.\n\n\n[Illustration: Initial W.]\n\nWhen Gargantua had outgrown the age for riding in his ox-cart, and was\njust beginning to toddle round the palace-walks, it occurred to Father\nGrandgousier that he was getting to be a big boy. So he ordered the\nRoyal Tailor into his Royal Presence.\n\n\"So ho! Thou art the clothes-maker, art thou? Now, measure my son, and\nmake a suit for him. His mother says he looks best in blue and white,\"\nwas all he said.\n\nThe Royal Tailor bowed humbly, while all the time he was shivering\nin his fine velvets and silks, at the honor of making clothes for a\nGiant Prince. For the old King, who simply wanted everything loose and\neasy-like, it was all well enough; but how would it be when he began\nto fit the royal heir? was what he kept asking himself. A royal tailor\nbelieves in his heart that he is a sort of king-maker, because he makes\nthe clothes that give to a King that grand, imperial air which compels\nall men to kneel before him. He never will appear the least bit ruffled\nat the most impossible order given him, provided the order come from a\nKing; but bows and smiles, no matter how sick and angry he may be at\nheart.\n\nTo do the Royal Tailor justice, he did his best with the order given\nhim. He made the clothes--and his bill.\n\nThat bill is still kept at Montsoreau. It is really a curiosity, and\nruns in this way:--\n\n      HIS MOST GRACIOUS MAJESTY,\n           TO THE ROYAL TAILOR,      DR.\n\n    For His Royal Highness' shirt with gusset      1,100\n      Doublet of white satin                         813\n      Breeches of white broadcloth                 1,105\u00bd\n      Shoes of blue and crimson velvet               406\n      Coat of blue velvet                          1,800\n      Girdle of silk serge                           300\u00bd\n      Cap of velvet, half white and half blue        300\u00bd\n      Gown of blue velvet                          9,600\n\n                                    Ells          15,425\u00bd\n\n[Illustration: MAKING GARGANTUA'S SUIT.]\n\nBesides all this quantity of rich cloth for Gargantua's full\ncourt-suit, there was brought from Hyrcania the Wild a bright blue\nfeather for his plume. This plume was held in place by a handsome\nenameled clasp of gold, weighing sixty-eight marks, which the Crown\nJewellers, by his father's orders, with great care, made for him; also\na ring for the forefinger of his left hand, with a carbuncle in it as\nlarge as an ostrich-egg; and a great chain of gold berries to wear\naround his neck, weighing twenty-five thousand and sixty-three marks.\n\n[Illustration: MEASURING GARGANTUA FOR HIS SUIT.]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\nTHE YEAR GARGANTUA HAD WOODEN HORSES, AND WHAT USE HE MADE OF THEM.\n\n\n[Illustration: GARGANTUA AT PLAY.]\n\nFrom the time he was three years old to the time he had grown to be a\nboy of five, Gargantua was brought up, by the strict command of his\nfather, just like all the other children of the Kingdom. His education\nwas very simple. It was:\n\n    Drinking, eating, and sleeping;\n    Eating, sleeping, and drinking;\n    Sleeping, drinking, and eating.\n\nIf he loved any one thing more than to play in the mud, that was to\nroll and wallow about in the mire. He would go home with his shoes all\nrun down at the heels, and his face and clothes well streaked with\ndirt. Gargantua, therefore, was not more favored than the other little\nboys of the kingdom who were not so rich as he was; but there was one\nadvantage which he did have. From his earliest babyhood he saw so many\nhorses in the Royal Stables that he got to know a fine horse almost\nas well as his father did. Whenever he saw a horse he would clap his\nfat hands together, and shout at the top of his lungs. It was thought\nthat--being a Prince who was, in time, to become a King--he should be\ntaught to ride well. So they made him, when he was a little fellow of\nfour years, so fine, so strong, and so wonderful a wooden horse that\nthere had never been seen its like up to that date, and there never has\nbeen found in any young prince's play-house or toy-shop since.\n\n[Illustration: GARGANTUA'S HORSE.]\n\nThis surprising horse must have been a piece of rare workmanship,\nbecause, whenever its young master wanted it to do anything, it was\nbound to do it. He could make it leap forward, jump backward, rear\nskyward, and waltz, all at one time. He could make it trot, gallop,\nrack, pace, gambol, and amble, just as the humor took him. But this was\nonly half of what that horse could do. Gargantua, at a word, could make\nit change the color of its hair. One day its hide would be milk-white;\nthe next day, bay; the next, black; the next, sorrel; the next,\ndapple-gray; the next, mouse-color; the next, piebald; the next, a soft\nbrown deer-color.\n\nBut this was not all.\n\nGargantua learned to be so skilful that he thought that he might just\nas well make a horse to suit himself as to have a horse bought for\nhim. So he sat knitting his great eyebrows till he finally found how\nhe could make a hunting-nag out of a big post; one for every day, out\nof the beam of a wine-press; one with housings for his room, out of a\ngreat oak-tree; and, out of different kinds of wood in his father's\nkingdom, he made ten or twelve spare horses, and had seven for the mail.\n\n[Illustration: GARGANTUA'S RIDING LESSONS.]\n\nIt was a rare sight to see all these wooden horses--bigger toys\nthan had ever been made before--lying piled up, side by side, near\nGargantua's bed, and the young Giant sleeping in their midst.\n\nOne day, Gargantua had a fine chance for having some sport of his own\nmaking.\n\nIt was on the day a noble lord came on a visit to his old friend, King\nGrandgousier. The Royal Stables proved rather small for such a number\nof horses as came with the noble lord. The Chief Equerry of the Lord of\nBreadinbag--which was the name of the great nobleman--was bothered out\nof his head because he could not find stable-room for all the horses\nbrought with them. By good luck he and the Grand Steward happened to\nmeet Gargantua at the foot of the great staircase.\n\n[Illustration: A NOBLE LORD CAME ON A VISIT.]\n\n\"Hello, youngster, what is thy name?\"\n\n\"Prince Gargantua.\"\n\n\"Is that so?\" they cried. \"Then say, little Giant, tell us where we are\nto put our horses. The stables of thy Royal Father are all full.\"\n\n\"Yes, I know they are,\" said Gargantua, slily; \"all you have to do is\nto follow me, and I will show you a beautiful stable, where there are\nbigger horses than ever yours can grow to be. Where have you left your\nhorses?\"\n\n\"Out in the court-yard, little Giant.\"\n\n\"Follow me, then, and I will show you the stables.\"\n\nThe Chief Equerry and the Grand Steward went after him, up the great\nstaircase of the palace, through the second hall, into a great stone\ngallery, by which they entered into a huge stone tower, the steps to\nwhich they mounted, along with the Prince, but breathing very heavily\nindeed.\n\n\"I am afraid that big child is laughing at us,\" whispered the Grand\nSteward, behind his hand, to the Chief Equerry. \"Nobody ever puts a\nstable at the top of a house.\"\n\n\"You are wrong there,\" whispered back the Chief Equerry; \"because I\nhappen to know of places, in Lyons and elsewhere, where there are\nstables in the attic. But, to make sure, let us ask him again.\"\n\nTurning to Gargantua, he said:--\n\n\"My little Prince, art thou sure thou art taking us right?\"\n\n\"Haven't I already told you? Isn't this my father's palace, and don't\nI know the way to the stables of my big horses? Don't gasp so much,\ngentlemen. Only three little steps and we are there!\"\n\n[Illustration: \"ONLY THREE LITTLE STEPS.\"]\n\nOnce up the steps, which made the Chief Equerry and the Grand Steward\nblow worse than ever, and passing through another great hall, the\nmischievous Prince, opening wide a door,--that of his own room,--cried,\ntriumphantly:--\n\n\"Here are the finest horses, gentlemen, in the world. This one next the\ndoor is my favorite riding-horse. That one near the fireplace is my\npacer,--a good one, I assure you. Now, just look at that one leaning\nagainst yonder window. I rode it rather hard yesterday, and it is\ntired. That's my hunting-nag. I had it at a great price from Frankfort;\nbut I am willing to make you a present of it. Don't refuse me, I beg.\nOnce on it, you can bag all the partridges and hares you may come\nacross for the whole winter. Now, choose; which of you will ride my\nhunting-nag?\"\n\nThe Chief Equerry and the Grand Steward, knowing that all these fine\nnames of \"riding-horse,\" and \"pacer,\" and \"hunting-nag,\" were for mere\nblocks of wood, were, for a moment, stupefied. They looked at each\nother slily, and half ashamed; but the joke was too good when they\nthought of the long stairs they had toiled up, and of their horses\nbelow waiting all this time to be stabled and fed. They couldn't help\nit; it was too rich; so they laughed till they were tired, and then\nbegan to laugh again till they were tired again.\n\n\"A rare bird is this young scamp,\" panted the Chief Equerry, as he\nlifted one end of the great beam which Gargantua called his hunting-nag.\n\n\"A prime joker is this young rogue, if he is a Prince,\" panted the\nGrand Steward, in echo, as he stumbled along with the other end into\nthe hall.\n\nThere was no use in being mad at the trick young Gargantua had played\non them. So they left him stroking the fastest horses in the world,\nwhile they went laughing all the way across the first hall, down the\nsmall steps, across the other halls, along the corridors, past the\nstone gallery, down the long stairway as far as the great arch, where\nthey let the famous hunting-nag roll to the bottom.\n\nWhen they at last reached the great dining-room, where all their\nfriends were gathered, they made everybody laugh like a swarm of flies\nat the trick played on them by the little Prince with his wooden\nhorses.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\nHOW GARGANTUA WAS TAUGHT LATIN.\n\n\n[Illustration: Initial O.]\n\nOld Father Grandgousier had a very large body of his own; and, after\nthe fashion of all good-natured giants that have ever lived, when\nhe was pleased he was hugely pleased. So it happened that, when his\nfriends came around him to drink his good wine, and eat his rich\ndinners, and to tell him how bright his boy was, he shook all over with\nmighty laughter. \"Ho! ho! ho! ho!\" he shouted, till the big strong\nbottles that stood on his table jingled, and the very rafters of the\ndining-hall seemed to laugh with them.\n\n\"You say that my little Gargantua is quick? Ho! ho! Now, my good lords,\nPhilip of Macedon had a son who was quick too. Yes, they said that\nhe was as quick as that,\" snapping his fingers together so that they\nwent cric-crac like a pistol shot. \"You have heard of the lad, and\nthat wild Bucephalus of his? Bah! I am sure my little brigand upstairs\nwould never have waited to turn the head of Bucephalus to the sun\nbefore riding him, but would have mounted and ridden him before all the\npeople, with his tail turned straight to the sun, and his shadow thrown\nplain before him! You have decided me, my friends. Gargantua is already\nfive years old. He is only a baby; but he is a Giant's child with more\nwit than age,--that makes a difference. I have been thinking seriously\nlately; and it is high time that I should give my youngster to some\nwise man to make him wise according to his capacity.\"\n\nAnd this Father Grandgousier began to do at once. He called, the very\nnext day, upon one of his subjects, worthy Master Tubal Holofernes,\na man famed for wisdom the country round, to teach Gargantua his A B\nC's. I am sorry to say that Master Holofernes seemed, from the first\nhour, to be just a little afraid of his small pupil, who, although only\na baby, could easily have studied his alphabet on his teacher's bald\npate, and had to bend his head even to do that. But Father Grandgousier\nwas, on the whole, well satisfied with his son. Gargantua could, after\nfive years and three months, actually recite his alphabet from A to Z;\nthen from Z to A; then catch it sharply up in the middle, bunching M\nand N together; naming the letters in fours, in eights, and in twelves,\nas quickly as you can think, forward and back again, and again, till\nall the old friends--whose noses, from good living, had become very\nred, and whose paunches were very big--swore, over their wine, that he\nwas the smartest child of ten years they _ever_ had seen. Of course,\nFather Grandgousier thought all this something wonderful. He ho-ho'ed\nand he ha-ha'ed! with great swelling laughter, after the fashion of\nGiants, until he was all out of breath, and his friends had to beg him\nto stop for fear of choking.\n\n[Illustration: TUBAL HOLOFERNES.]\n\nBut Father Grandgousier could not rest here. He declared that\nGargantua must now learn Latin. The young Giant was made, not only to\nstudy Latin, but to write, besides that, his own books of study in\nGothic letters, there being no printing-presses in those days.\n\nTo learn all this took him thirteen years, six months, and two weeks.\n\nBy this time, Gargantua had grown so tall that, when called upon to\nrecite, he could not make his answer heard by Master Holofernes, who\nwas rather deaf, unless by bending down and whispering it, because his\nvoice was so strong that his ordinary tone would have, at that close\ndistance, broken the drums of the old man's ears. What he thought he\nneeded, therefore, was a writing-desk. It was very hard to find a desk\nquite suited to him for writing down what he had to say. They hunted\nnear and far for one. At last one was found in the possession of a\nstunted old giant, living in a cave near by, who all his life had been\nhoping to grow as tall as King Grandgousier himself. This poor giant\nhad, however, been thrown into despair because he had suddenly stopped\ngrowing, and still lacked a dozen feet or so of being as tall as he\nwanted to be. He gave up the desk he had used so long, with a great\nsob that shook the mountain in the caves of which he lived. Gargantua,\nalthough not full-grown, did not find a desk of seven hundred thousand\npounds' weight at all in his way, for it was just suited to his size.\n\nHis ink-horn, weighing as much as a ton of merchandise, swung by\nheavy iron chains from the side of the desk. From it Gargantua, with\na pen-holder as large as the great Pillar of Enay, used to write his\nLatin exercises. Master Holofernes kept him at all this for eighteen\nyears and eleven months, and so thorough did he become that he could\nrecite his Latin exercises by heart, backwards. He went on studying\nafter this some of the harder books for sixteen years and two months,\nwhen he had the misfortune of losing his old teacher very suddenly.\n\nOne day, unexpectedly, Father Grandgousier called his friends around\nhim,--who had, by this time, gained redder noses and bigger paunches\nthan ever,--to see how strong his son was in Latin. He also invited a\nfriend of his who, he was sure, did know Latin.\n\n[Illustration: THE FRIEND WHO KNEW LATIN.]\n\nThen he shouted out, \"Come, my little one, and show these friends of\nthy father what thou hast learned of Latin. See, here is a gentleman\nwho knows it as he does his breviary. He shall examine thee, and tell\nus how much thou hast learned under faithful Master Holofernes, whom we\nall honor.\"\n\nAnd the learned friend began on poor Gargantua, and poured on him\nquestion after question for six mortal hours. Father Grandgousier, who,\nby the way, had understood not one word of it all, turned to him at the\nend triumphantly:--\n\n\"Now, good sir, art thou not convinced that my boy knows his Latin?\"\n\nThen, that learned friend, although just a little trembling, to be\nsure, answered quietly enough:--\n\n\"With my Liege's permission, Prince Gargantua does not know any more\nLatin than Your own Gracious Majesty.\"\n\n    \"_What!_\n             WHAT!\n                   WHAT!!!\"\n\nroared Father Grandgousier, each time making that very short word\nlonger and louder and fiercer, and jumping to his feet he fairly kicked\nlearned Master Holofernes out of the palace; meanwhile, rolling his\neyes around in his rage, and gnashing his teeth in so horrible a way\nthat the noses of his old friends who had sat at his table for sixty\nyears, and more, turned pale for once, through fright; and there\nwere those of the household who said that, as they fled from the\ndining-room, in terror, even the paunches of these old friends seemed,\nsomehow, to have grown as flat as the royal pancakes they had just been\neating.\n\n[Illustration: FLIGHT OF THE TUTOR.]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\nTHE NEW MASTER FOUND FOR GARGANTUA.\n\n\n[Illustration: Initial W.]\n\n\"What! not know thy Latin! After forty-eight years, seven months, and\ntwo days! Then, my little rogue, it is to Paris thou must go.\"\n\nThis is what Grandgousier said to Gargantua just one week after that\nluckless dinner. I will tell you how it all happened. The first thing\nthe old King did the next morning was to send, post-haste, to his good\nfriend, Don Philip of the Marshes, Viceroy of Papeligosse, who knew\nLatin, and who had told him, years and years before, that poor Master\nHolofernes was nothing but a bit of an old humbug (humbug was not quite\nthe word used at that time, but the meaning was all the same). \"Come\nto me, my friend,\" he wrote, \"thou art always prating of thy Latin\nscholars. Now bring one of thy wonders along with thee.\"\n\nSo Don Philip came in great state, as befitted a visit to his King,\naccompanied by the prettiest, the jauntiest, the sharpest, the\npolitest, the sweetest-voiced little fellow ever seen. Don Philip\nintroduced the curled darling as Master Eudemon, his page.\n\n\"Your Majesty sees this child?\" he asked. \"He is not yet twelve years\nold; yet I dare promise that he will prove to Your Majesty, if it be\nyour pleasure, what difference there really is between the old dreamers\nof the past and the lads of the present.\"\n\n\"So be it,\" cried the old Giant, gaily, as he put on his glasses, to\nsee the better.\n\nWhen his eyes first fell on the young page, he swore under his\nbreath--which sounded for all the world like stifled thunder--that\nhe resembled rather \"a little angel than a human child.\" As soon as\nEudemon was called to show what he knew, he rose with youthful modesty,\nand bowed with charming grace to the King, then to his master, and\nthen to Gargantua, who was frowning at him, and wondering within\nhimself what all those pretty ways meant. Then the young page opened\nin a Latin so good, so pure, and so musical that what he said sounded\nrather like a speech made by a Gracchus, or a Cicero, or an Emilius,\nin the old days of Roman glory, than one made by a youth of that day.\nAfter a little, Eudemon--cunning rogue that he was!--began to praise\nGargantua to the skies. He spoke first of his young Prince's virtue\nand good manners; secondly, of his knowledge; thirdly, of his noble\nbirth; fourthly, of his personal beauty; and fifthly, the little fellow\nexhorted him so movingly to revere his great father in all things that\nGargantua was so ashamed at not understanding a word of what he was\nsaying, and at not being able to Latin away as he did, forgetting that\na dwarf had no business whatever to criticise a young Giant, that he\nbegan to _moo-moo_ like a cow, and to hide his face in his cap without\nhaving ever a word to say for himself.\n\n[Illustration: EUDEMON.]\n\nHere it was that Father Grandgousier grew really angry. He praised\nEudemon and scolded Gargantua by turns, until at last he fell asleep\namong all the big bottles that had been emptied during the pretty tale\nof the learned little angel, which nobody around the table understood\nbut Don Philip of the Marshes and the pretty little angel himself. It\nis a bold thing at all times to awake a King without his own orders;\nbut when that King is a Giant, it is a bolder thing to do than ever.\nNo one dares, for his head, disturb him, and yet, he has to be waked,\nor else the next morning his sneezes will make all the houses around\ntumble down, as Giant's colds in the head are just about as big as\ntheir bodies. Now, Gargantua being a young Giant himself, was the only\none who could venture upon the liberty of waking his Father, and I have\nalready said what he got for his pains:--\n\n\"What! not know thy Latin! After forty-eight years, seven months, and\ntwo days, too! Then, my little rogue, it is to Paris thou shalt go.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII.\n\nGARGANTUA GOES TO PARIS, AND THE BIG MARE THAT TAKES HIM THERE.\n\n\n[Illustration: Initial T.]\n\nThe trip to Paris being settled, the first thing to be agreed on was a\nhorse large enough to carry Gargantua at his ease. There was no trouble\nhere; for, by good luck, it happened that there had arrived, only a\nfew days before, the most gigantic Mare that had ever eaten hay in the\nRoyal Stables. She had come all the way from Africa, a present from\nFayolles, the fourth king of Numidia. When Father Grandgousier went to\nlook at the Mare, he found her a marvellous animal, indeed. She was as\nbig as six elephants, with her hoofs split into toes. Her ears hung\ndownward like the great ears of the goats of Languedoc. The mare was\nnot alone in her split toes, because history tells us that the steed\nof Julius C\u00e6sar had the self-same toes if he hadn't the ears. But she\nwas alone in her tail! Oh, how mighty that tail was! It was as big as\nthe Pillar of Saint-Mars near Langes, and just as square. If the boys\nand girls who are reading this are surprised, they will only have to\nthink of what they have already read of the tails of those Scythian\nrams which weighed more than thirty pounds each; and of the sheep of\nSyria, the tails of which were so long and so heavy that they had to be\nrested on a cart to be carried in comfort. The Mare, in short, was so\nextraordinary a creature that, on seeing her for the first time, Father\nGrandgousier could only whistle beneath his breath.\n\n\"That's the very beast to carry my son to Paris! With her, all things\nwill go well. He will be a great scholar one of these days.\"\n\n[Illustration: GARGANTUA'S MARE.]\n\nThe next day, after breakfast, the party started on their journey.\nFirst, there was Gargantua on his gigantic mare, and wearing boots\nwhich his father had just given him, made out of the skin of the red\ndeer; then his new teacher, Ponocrates; then his servants, among whom\nwas the young page, Eudemon. There never was a gayer party. In the\nhighest spirits, and laughing loudly, they jogged on, day after day,\nuntil they reached a point just above the City of Orleans. At this\npoint, they found a great forest thirty-five leagues long and seventeen\nwide, or thereabout. The forest was very fertile in some ugly insects,\nknown as gadflies and hornets. These flies were so large and so fierce,\nand so sharp-tongued and so poisonous besides, that they were the\nterror of all the poor horses and asses which had to pass through the\nforest. But Gargantua's Mare was equal to both flies and hornets. She\nresolved to avenge all her kindred, even though they were mere dwarfs,\nwhich had ever suffered from gadflies and hornets, and which, if she\ndid not help them, would continue to suffer from them. The moment she\ngot well into the forest, and the gadflies began to plague her, she\nfirst shook her tail slowly and lazily to see whether or not it was in\ngood working order. This did not in the least frighten the insects,\nwhich kept on plaguing and stinging her more than ever. Then it was\nthat she loosed that tail of hers to the right and the left. So well\ndid she do this, whisking it wildly here and there, far up in the air\nand low down on the ground, that she whipped down the biggest trees,\none after the other, with a crash that made the hearts of the others\ntremble within their very bark, with all the ease that a mower cuts\ndown the grass. So well did she do her work that, since she passed\nthrough that forest, there never has been seen in it a single tree or\na single gadfly, or a single hornet, for the whole wood on that day\nbecame the open country, and has been open country ever since.\n\n[Illustration: PONOCRATES.]\n\nWhen Gargantua, who hadn't noticed what his Mare had been doing, saw\nthis, he only laughed, while he said to Ponocrates in his old-time\nFrench:--\n\n\"_Je trouve beau-ce!_\"\n\nwhich, translated freely into English, would mean:--\n\n\"I find this fine.\"\n\nAnd, from that day to this, the country above the City of Orleans, in\nFrance, has been called _La Beauce_.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX.\n\nTHE PARISIANS LAUGH AT GARGANTUA.--HE TAKES HIS REVENGE BY STEALING THE\nGREAT BELLS OF N\u00d4TRE-D\u00c2ME.\n\n\n[Illustration: Initial T.]\n\nThe first thing Gargantua did, on reaching Paris, was to make a resolve\nthat he and his people should have a gay time. Some days after, when\nthey had all rested well and had feasted until they were full of good\neating and drinking, Gargantua started on a stroll through the town to\nfind what was to be seen. The Paris Gargantua saw was not the Paris of\nto-day,--not nearly so mighty a city as it has since become. But its\npeople then were every bit as fond of merry-making and of seeing shows\nas they are now. One who lived in those days, and who boasted that he\nknew the Parisians better than they did themselves, says that they\nwere so silly and so stupid by nature that it only took a rope-dancer,\ndancing on his rope, or a Merry-Andrew playing at his tricks, or a\nbawler of old scraps, or a blind fiddler, or a hurdy-gurdy in the\nmarket-place, to appear, to draw a bigger crowd than the holiest and\nmost eloquent preacher. Now, a Giant like Gargantua was himself such a\nshow as the people of Paris had never before set their silly eyes on.\nOf course they swarmed around him with staring eyes and open mouths,\npushing against him here, and knocking against him there, in their\nstrong desire to see as much of him as they could. They troubled him\nalmost as much as the flies and hornets of _La Beauce_ had troubled\nhis mare. Some, bolder than the rest, even ran in and out between his\nlegs as he strode along the street. At first, Gargantua took the crowd\ngood-naturedly enough. By and by, he began to think that all this\nsqueezing and tickling were getting just a little tiresome. He looked\naround in a helpless sort of way, until, by good luck, his eyes fell\non the tall towers of _N\u00f4tre D\u00e2me_ Cathedral, near by. \"Ha! ha! that's\nthe very place for me,\" he cried, and, without further ado, resting one\nhand on the top of the roof to steady himself, he went whizzing with a\ngreat leap past the statues of Adam and Eve, that looked wonderingly\nout from their stony niches. The idle crowd was afraid to follow\nGargantua; but it stood packed up close together in the open space\nwhich surrounded the old church, gazing at him as he went through the\nair, and wondering all the time what the Giant was going to do with\ntheir famous towers. It was not long before they found out. No sooner\nwas he on the roof than Gargantua caught sight of the great tanks\nfilled with water which were then to be found there. Chuckling to\nhimself, he cried: \"Now for some fun! I shall pledge this good people\nof Paris in a glass of wine.\" Up he caught one of the tanks, poised\nit for a moment in the air, and then shouting out: \"_To your health,\ngood folks!_\" tipped it just a bit. Down poured its water in a full\nstream. Then he threw the tank after it. Quick, before one could think\nor breathe, the others followed. So sudden was the down-pour of water\nthat the people thought a tremendous water-spout, in passing over their\ncity, had burst upon them. Two hundred and sixty thousand, four hundred\nand eighteen persons were drowned on that day by the water, or crushed\nby the tanks, or killed by being run over by those seeking to escape.\nThose who were lucky got away as fast as they could. In less than three\nminutes the square was empty, for the water, as it rolled out into the\nstreets, washed all the dead away.\n\n[Illustration: GARGANTUA ENTERS PARIS.]\n\nGargantua, who was a good-hearted Giant, little knew what mischief he\nhad done. After he had emptied all the tanks, and thrown them away,\nhe ceased to think about the people. He had only gone on the roof to\nrid himself of the buzzing and nudging of the crowd; and, not hearing\nany more from them, he set about amusing himself. When he caught sight\nof the great bells of _N\u00f4tre D\u00e2me_, a happy idea struck him. He would\nset them to ringing and pealing! Ah, how he was charmed! their notes\nwere so soft, so rich, so mellow, so tender, so golden! He wanted to\nhave the bells about him all the time. Just then he thought: \"These\nParisians deserve a lesson for their bad manners, and I am going to\nrevenge myself.\" So he at once began to pick up the bells, one after\nthe other, as if they were so many buckets. When he had gathered them\nall, he leaped down from the roof and strode across the city in the\ndirection of his hotel. Once there, a merry thought came to him, which\nmade him drop the bells and clap his thighs with a sound that brought\nall the good wives of Paris--or those that remained after the affair of\nthe tanks--to their windows.\n\n\"Ho! ho! ho! I have it now! I shall keep my beautiful bells to please\nmy father, and pay the Parisians, all at the same time. I send my\nmare home to-morrow. Every little donkey nowadays wears a collar with\njingling bells. _My_ Mare shall carry at her neck the bells of _N\u00f4tre\nD\u00e2me!_\"\n\n[Illustration: THE CITY WAS EXCITED.]\n\nGargantua went straight to the stable where his Mare had already found\nher fodder, and, with great care, while Gymnaste, his squire, held the\ncandle, placed the bells of _N\u00f4tre D\u00e2me_, one by one, around her neck.\nThe city was greatly excited at the loss of the bells; and, the next\nday, there came a long line of grave, black-robed men who proved to him\nin learned speeches that the holy church of _N\u00f4tre D\u00e2me_ had a right to\nher own bells. Gargantua, now that all the excitement had passed, felt\nthat he had done a very silly thing, and could only say that the bells\nwere not lost; but that if their worships would go to the stable, they\nwould find them still hanging from the neck of his great Mare. After\nfurther talk, and much good drinking, the grave, black-robed men--who,\nif the whole truth were to be told, were not a little afraid of the\nGiant--picked up heart to say: \"Give us back our bells, and we shall\nbind ourselves to give your Mare free grazing in the forest of Bi\u00e8re,\nso long as Your Highness honors us with your presence.\"\n\nGargantua was very willing to accept this offer. The bells were taken\nback in great state to _N\u00f4tre D\u00e2me_, where--God bless them!--they may\nbe seen, and heard too, when the sun shines and when the rain falls, to\nthis very day.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X.\n\nPONOCRATES, THE NEW TEACHER, DESIRES GARGANTUA TO SHOW HIM HOW HE USED\nTO STUDY WITH OLD MASTER HOLOFERNES.\n\n\n[Illustration: Initial G.]\n\nGargantua was a good son, as we have already seen. He knew that he had\nbeen sent to Paris to learn Latin. So, after a few days of pleasure,\nhe dutifully offered to begin a course of study with his new teacher,\nPonocrates. But Ponocrates himself was just a little curious to know\nhow old Master Holofernes had managed to teach his big pupil so as to\nleave him, after fifty-three years, ten months, and ten days, just as\nmuch a booby as he had found him. \"Let Your Highness,\" Ponocrates said,\n\"do precisely as you used to do with your old master.\" And Gargantua,\ngreatly relieved, as you may imagine, began to live in Paris the very\nlife he used to live at home. And this is the way he lived. He woke\nup between eight and nine o'clock every morning, whether it was light\nor not. The first thing he did after waking was to make a tent of the\nsheets of the bed, raising one of his tall legs as the centre-pole and\nwatching how the big sheet fell on either side. After the tent was\nbrought down, Gargantua would begin to gambol and roll around in his\nbed, to stand on his head, to twist his huge limbs in every sort of\ntwirl, and to turn any number of somersaults, single, double, treble,\nand quadruple, in a way that would make one of our modern acrobats turn\ngreen with envy. After that he would rise and dress himself according\nto the season. But, in the old home days, he generally wore a large\nrobe of rough cloth, lined with fox-skins, and so he brought out of\nhis trunk the very garment itself, looking rather worn and shabby.\nThe next thing was to comb his head with a \"German comb,\" which was\nthe name given in those days to the easiest way of combing, since it\nmeant a comb made by the four fingers and the thumb. For old Master\nHolofernes had always enjoined this habit on him, saying that it was a\nwaste of time for him to smooth his hair in any other way, and with any\nbetter comb.\n\n[Illustration: GARGANTUA GETS UP.]\n\nBeing now dressed, Gargantua went through a series of performances\nwhich--considering that they came from a Giant--must have been very\nstartling, indeed. He gaped, stretched, coughed, spit, groaned,\nsneezed, hiccoughed, and then, with a broad smile, declared himself\nready to breakfast on fried tripe, grilled steaks, colossal hams,\nmagnificent roast, and a noble soup. All this feast was made hot with\nmustard, shovelled down his throat by four of his servants.\n\nMaster Ponocrates, one day, thought it his duty, as the teacher charged\nwith the education of his royal pupil, to suggest that it was hardly\nright for him to eat so heavy a breakfast without having already taken\nsome exercise. Gargantua was ready with his answer.\n\n\"How can you say so, Master?\" he asked; \"have I not exercised enough?\nHave I not stretched myself on the bed in all sorts of ways until my\nmuscles are sore? Isn't that enough? Pope Alexander the V. used to do\nthe same, by the advice of his Jewish doctor, and he lived, as you\nknow, until he died. I feel very well from my breakfast, and am already\nbeginning to think of my dinner.\"\n\n[Illustration: GARGANTUA BREAKFASTS.]\n\nPonocrates must have been satisfied with this little speech of his\npupil; for, after grumbling a bit under his breath, all that he did was\nto stroke his long beard in deep thought, while he asked himself in\nwonder: \"How did the Prince ever happen to hear about Pope Alexander?\"\nand let the young Giant continue his course, while he himself continued\nto wonder.\n\nAfter breakfast Gargantua went to church,--you may be sure he kept away\nfrom _N\u00f4tre D\u00e2me!_ Behind him, on his way to church, went nine of the\nstoutest lackeys, who bore, as if they would have liked to be doing\nanything rather than that, a big basket, which contained a breviary\nworthy of a Giant, since it was so heavy that, by actual weight, it was\nfound to weigh just eleven hundred and six pounds. With that breviary,\nthe devout young Prince entered the church and heard the Holy Mass from\nbeginning to end. On leaving the church, he always thought it the\nproper thing for his breviary to be carried by oxen to his hotel. Once\nthere, Gargantua began to study during a short half hour, with his eyes\nlike good Saint Anthony's in the story,\n\n    \"firmly fixed upon his book;\"\n\nwhile all the time, \"his soul,\" as the clown of Paris, in his day, used\nto say, \"was down in the _kitchen_.\"\n\n[Illustration: GARGANTUA GOES TO CHURCH.]\n\nThe dinner came soon enough after his return home to satisfy even\nGargantua, who was a great glutton. He used to smile as he saw the\ntable at his new lodging-house laden with a dozen rich hams, with the\nbest of smoked tongues, with puddings, with; fine chitterlings; and his\ngreat throat took them all down one after the other. Every day, after\nthe meals, it was his practice to wash his hands with fresh wine, and\nto pick his teeth with a dry pig-bone.\n\nAfter that he declared himself ready for his games.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI.\n\nTHE TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTEEN GAMES OF CARDS GARGANTUA KNEW HOW TO\nPLAY.--WHAT IT WAS HE SAID AFTER HE HAD GONE THROUGH THE LIST, AND WHAT\nIT WAS PONOCRATES REMARKED.\n\n\n[Illustration: Initial T.]\n\nThe first thing Gargantua did, on rising from the dinner table, would\nbe to call out in a cheery voice:--\n\n\"SPREAD THE CARPET!\"\n\nThe servants understood what that meant very well. Gaily they would\nunroll a large carpet, stretch it free from wrinkles, and then, in a\ntwinkling, lay a pack of cards in the very middle of it. Then the Giant\nand his friends would sit down on the carpet, and begin playing cards.\nThere were just two hundred and fifteen of these games which Gargantua\nknew how to play. Their names would sound odd to the card-players of\nthis day, and I give some of the oddest on the list, so that you may\nknow what queer games were then the fashion with the Giant and his\nfriends:--\n\n    The Bamboozler.\n    The Potatoes.\n    Scotch Hoppens.\n    The Cows.\n    The Tables.\n    To Steal Mustard.\n    Skin the Fox.\n    Sow the Hay.\n    Sell the Hay.\n    The Monkey.\n    The Combs.\n    The Coat-brush.\n    Nine Hands.\n    Partridges.\n    The Keys.\n    The Birch Tree.\n    Ninepins.\n    I pinch thee without laughing.\n    Figs of Marseilles.\n    Draw the Spit.\n\nEach of these games took a whole day, lasting between dinner and the\ntime to enjoy a nap. Gargantua always thought it necessary to prepare\nfor his afternoon sleep by taking a little drink. His companions\nmust have been heavy drinkers,--regular old topers of the jolly\norder,--because the allowance every day called for eleven pots of wine\nfor each man. After drinking such a quantity they would naturally feel\ndrowsy. They would then stretch themselves on the carpet, and snore\naway, each snorer playing a different tune through his nose, in the\nmidst of the cards lying loosely around, and the emptied pots,--all\nexcept Gargantua, whose breathing on such occasions was always of the\nhurricane fashion, whether awake or asleep. He would sleep for two or\nthree hours like a good Christian, without thinking of any evil thing,\nand without muttering a single bad word in his dreams. On waking, he\nhad a trick of giving his great ears a half-dozen shakes,--why, I don't\nknow,--and then bawling out for fresh wine, which he drank down in one\ngreat gulp. Then came the only study for the day, which was rather a\nmystery for all parties. Nobody could say exactly what it was, and\nMaster Ponocrates only smiled when asked about it. It lasted for a few\nminutes only, after which Gargantua would mount, in high state, an old\nmule which had already served nine kings, and briskly ride away to see\nwhere the good people of Paris caught their rabbits.\n\nOn his return, he had a habit of running in and out of the kitchen,\nwith his broad nostrils swollen out like balloons, to find out what\nparticular roast was on the spit, until the cook, already in a stew,\nwas ready to tear his hair in despair. But cooks may be ever so vexed,\nthe meat will roast on the spit all the same, and at last get done to\na turn. All things being ready, Gargantua would sit down at table. He\nalways managed to have a large company of gentlemen present, who were\nonly too willing, for the honor of being invited to dinner by a Prince,\nto serve as his attendants, should he ever need their services. Among\nthose of high birth who usually dined with him at this time were the\nLords De Fou, De Gourville, De Grignaut, and De Marigny.\n\n[Illustration: GARGANTUA LOOKS INTO THE KITCHEN.]\n\nAfter supper, Gargantua--being in the liveliest humor, and disposed to\nlook on the world with a broad laugh, showing the largest and whitest\nof teeth--would play a little, or else pay an open-air visit to some of\nthe many pretty young ladies living in the neighborhood,--their houses\nbeing too small for him to enter,--and, on such nights, he would not\nget home until midnight. Sometimes, when he did not go out, he would\ntake another little supper about eight o'clock, and still another\nbefore midnight. Then he would sleep without snoring until eight\no'clock next morning.\n\nIt was a great day for Gargantua when he reached the end of his two\nhundred and fifteen games; or, rather, he intended that it should be\na great day. He had said nothing to any one; but, when he woke that\nparticular morning, he was noticed to be in a gayer mood than usual\nwhile he was dressing himself, and after he had gamboled and rolled\naround his bed, and stretched his limbs on it, and made his own\ngreat tent with one leg and the sheet, and given a neat turn to his\nlong locks with his German comb, and gone through his usual gaping,\ncoughing, spitting, groaning, sneezing, and hiccoughing. But, being in\nsome things a very simple Giant, indeed, he had not noticed that his\nteacher, Ponocrates, had very keen eyes, and could use them too. Why,\nPonocrates knew when the last game was to be played just as well as\nGargantua himself did, and he had made up his mind to be somewhere in\nthe room when it closed. Sure enough, listening in a corner of the big\nchamber, he heard some one say: \"_Here we are on our last game!_\" To\nwhich Gargantua shouted in reply: \"Ho! ho! The _last_ game! Don't be\ntoo sure of that. Gentlemen, to-morrow we shall play just as well as\nto-day.\"\n\n\"How, Prince?\" asked Ponocrates, softly, coming out of his corner.\n\n\"How, good Master? Why, by beginning our games over again.\"\n\n\"Not so fast; not so fast, Prince. To-morrow Your Highness will begin\nwith ME!\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII.\n\nGARGANTUA IS DOSED BY PONOCRATES, AND FORGETS ALL THAT HOLOFERNES HAD\nTAUGHT HIM.\n\n\n[Illustration: Initial W.]\n\nWhile the two hundred and fifteen games, taking up just that number of\ndays, were being played, Master Ponocrates had not been at all idle. He\nhad already consulted with Master Theodore--a wise physician of that\ntime--and knew just what he was going to do when he had said:--\n\n\"To-morrow Your Highness will begin with ME.\"\n\nThe first thing was to dose Gargantua with a mysterious herb,\nwhich made him forget all that he had ever learned under his old\nteacher. This was not an original idea at all with either Theodore\nor Ponocrates, for Thimotes, the music-master of Miletus, had long\nbefore dosed, in the same way, such disciples of his as had been\nunlucky enough to have first learned their notes under other musicians.\nGargantua, when asked by Ponocrates to meet certain scientific\ngentlemen of Paris who had been specially invited to inspire the royal\nGiant with love of knowledge, was so weak and pale after his dose that\nhe could only bow his head, while wondering lazily to himself what all\nthese heavy talks about Science had to do with the Latin, which his\ngood old Father Grandgousier had been so anxious for him to learn.\n\n[Illustration: PONOCRATES DOSES GARGANTUA.]\n\nWhen he had been dosed enough to forget his old studies, and even to\nlook up with a mild surprise when his dearly-loved Master Holofernes\nwas mentioned, Gargantua was put through a course of study, in which\nhe did not lose a single hour of the day. Only think how much he must\nhave learned each day! First, he was roused up, whether he wanted or\nnot, at four o'clock every morning, when he said his prayers. While the\nattendants were rubbing his body down, a young page would read, in a\nloud voice, so as to be heard above the scrubbing, some extracts from\na book of good doctrine. After this, being not more than half-dressed\nyet, his practice was to visit each of his companions in his room,\nand with a gentle \"Get thee up, my boy! get thee up!\" awake the lazy\nfellow from his slumbers. Then he returned to his room, where he found\nPonocrates always ready to explain what was doubtful in the chapters\nthat had been read to him, and to ask him whether he had noted, as he\nshould, what signs the sun was entering that morning, and what aspect\nhe thought the moon would have that night.\n\nIt was only after this that his attendants began to dress him, to\nperfume him, to curl him, and to powder him--Gargantua all the while\nnot once venturing to use that large, well-thumbed German comb of which\nhe had once been so proud. While all this was going on, the same page\nwould repeat the lesson of the day. Gargantua, thoroughly dosed and\nbrought down to a most anxious desire for study, learned after two or\nthree days to repeat the lessons by heart. Everybody looked glad at\nthis--none more so than good Master Ponocrates himself--especially when\nthe debate touched on such a question as the \"Human State,\" which was\nmade the special lesson for two or three hours. While Gargantua was\nstill puzzling over the reading of the \"Human State,\" and learning all\naround the best talk about it, the big clock would strike eleven; and\nthen he would, with all his friends, walk soberly to the ground where\nthey would play at the good old game of ball, exercising their bodies\ntill all their muscles grew tired. From the field it was an easy way to\nthe house, where Gargantua, being first rubbed down and after a change\nof shirt, would walk meekly, surrounded by his friends, towards the\nkitchen to ask if the dinner was ready. While waiting for the cook--now\nno longer in a stew, and therefore growing fatter and greasier than\never--to send up the meal, they would recite clearly and eloquently\nsuch sentences as had been retained from the morning-lecture. However,\nMister Appetite is stronger than Knowledge; and when dinner was ready,\nthey soon dropped their wise talk and began to look with eyes as big\nas their stomachs towards the dining-room. Once seated at table some\none would begin to read a pleasant history of ancient heroism, and\ncontinue reading until the wine was served. Then, if the party seemed\nin a mood for it, Ponocrates would set them to chatting merrily about\nthe nature of all that they had before them on the table, the bread,\nthe wine, the water, the salt, the meats, the fish, the fruits, herbs,\nroots and the mode of preparing all these. Doing this every day,\nGargantua soon learned all the passages relating to them to be found\nin old classic writers, who were as dry as they were wise. Sometimes,\nwhen the quotation did not run smooth, the old, musty, yellow parchment\nitself, with its nearly rubbed-out Gothic letters, would be brought in\nto settle the question; and the result was that, in a marvelously short\ntime, no learned doctor was Gargantua's equal in all this--no, not by\none-half.\n\n[Illustration: GARGANTUA AT HIS LESSONS.]\n\nThey would once more take up in an easy talk the lessons read during\nthe morning, and, after finishing their dinner with some well-made\nmarmalade of quinces, would clean their teeth with a twig of the\nmastic tree, and wash their hands and eyes with fresh water. Which\nbeing done, cards were brought, not to play with, but to teach a\nthousand fresh tricks and inventions which sprang directly, not only\nfrom Architecture, but from Geometry, Astronomy, and Music. After\nthat, with a word from the good Master, Gargantua would make himself\nmerry in singing with his comrades some songs selected by himself,\naccompanied by such instruments as the lute, the spinet, the harp, the\nGerman nine-holed flute, the viol, and the sackbut, when would come\nthree hours given to exercises in writing antique and Roman letters,\nand, lastly, to the main study, which would have made old Father\nGrandgousier's heart swell with gladness if he could only have known\nit.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII.\n\nHOW GARGANTUA WAS MADE NOT TO LOSE ONE HOUR OF THE DAY.\n\n\n[Illustration: Initial E.]\n\nEverybody knows that Giants are very queer people and require a great\ndeal of care, even when they are the mildest, and Gargantua was such\na Giant that the measures of all the Tailors of Paris at that time\ncouldn't have told him how tall he was, and all the weights known in\nhis day couldn't possibly have balanced his big body.\n\nMaster Ponocrates, who had no idea of making the Prince's mind\nstrong at the expense of his body,--being too good a teacher for\nthat,--arranged it in such a way that, every day after the Latin\nlesson, Gargantua was allowed, after changing his clothes, to leave his\nhotel with his Squire Gymnaste, who had been chosen specially to teach\nhim the noble art of horsemanship. Once on horseback, Gargantua would\nfirst give his steed full rein; then make him leap high in air; then\njump a ditch; then scale a fence; then turn quickly in one half of a\ncircle, and back again around the other half, before one could count\nthirty seconds. Then calling for a lance--the keenest, the sharpest,\nand the strongest that could be had--he would ride full-tilt against\nthe heaviest door or the stoutest oak, piercing the one through and\nthrough, or uprooting the other by sheer force with as much ease as a\ncommon man would tear up a sapling. As for the flourishes on horseback,\nno one could compete with Gargantua. The great acrobat of Ferrara was\nonly a monkey in comparison with him. Gargantua was taught to leap from\none horse to another while both were at full gallop, without touching\nthe ground, or, with lance at rest, mounting each horse without\nstirrup or bridle, and guiding it as he pleased. As Ponocrates said,\n\"all these things help to make a good soldier.\"\n\nYet this was only a trifle. Every fine day the Prince would go hunting.\nHe would shine as brightly there as he had done in horsemanship. He\nwould always be the first when the chasing the deer, the doe, the boar,\nthe partridge, the pheasant, and the bustard.\n\nNext to hunting came swimming. Gargantua, being so bulky, never would\nstrike a stroke unless he was in deep waters. He would play such tricks\nin the water as only good swimmers know--swimming on his back, or\nsideways, or with all his body, or sometimes with his feet only. He\nlaughed at the idea of crossing the Seine. It was his daily pastime,\nholding a book with one hand high above the water, to reach the other\nside without wetting a single page of it. One day, Gargantua, being\npraised for all this, was asked if he had any model. All he said was:--\n\n\"Perhaps, Julius C\u00e6sar used to do something of the same kind.\"\n\n[Illustration: GARGANTUA LEARNS TO SHOOT.]\n\nOn coming out of the water, he would of course feel chilled through,\nand then to get well warmed he would run up a hill, and then rush\ndown, taking the trees on the way, up which he would dart like a cat,\nleaping from one branch to the other like a squirrel, and breaking down\ngreat limbs to the right and left like Milo of old. He would next pay\nhis attention to the houses which, with the aid of two steel poniards,\nhe would climb, jumping down from them without ever being the worse for\nit. After this he would exercise with the bow, often strongest bows in\ndrawing, shooting at targets from below upwards, from above downwards,\nsideways, and at last behind him, like the Parthians.\n\n[Illustration: GARGANTUA LEARNS TO CLIMB.]\n\nBut there was something more. Every day after these feats were over,\nthey would drop a big cable from some high tower to the ground.\nGargantua would go hand over hand up this chain, and descend it with\nso sure a grip that, among the active men of Paris, there could not\nbe found his equal. Then came what Ponocrates called strengthening\nhis nerves. For this purpose, two great weights of lead had been\nspecially made--each one weighing eight hundred and seventy thousand\npounds--which Gargantua would take up, one in each hand, raise them\nabove his head, and keep them there, without moving, three quarters\nof an hour and more. All who saw this great feat wondered, and swore\nthat the like of it had not been seen in the world. Being still out in\nthe open air, he would exercise his throat and his lungs by shouting\nlike a wild man. Why, he was one day heard calling Eudemon from the\nGate of Saint Victor, by a man who was standing in the street at\nMontmartre,--any map of Paris will show you how far that is. Everybody\nhas heard about Stentor and his great voice. Well, Stentor never had\nsuch a voice at the siege of Troy as Gargantua had at the gate of St.\nVictor.\n\nWhen the weather was bright, he would play a game in which he would\nimitate Milo, the famous strong man, by standing on his feet, and\ndaring any number of the strongest men to make him move. This was the\nlast of the hard work for the day. He would be allowed to rest time\nenough to be bathed, rubbed down, and given clean clothes. He and\nhis companions would return very slowly home, stopping on the way by\ncertain fields or grassy plains, where they examined the trees and\nplants, consulting over them with the books of old-time greybeards who\nhad written about them, their arms full of specimens which they would\nthrow to the page Rhizotome, who was charged to take good care of them,\ntogether with the pickaxes, hoes, spades, scrapers, pruning-knives, and\nother implements which his master had used in the work.\n\nOf course this had brought them home, where they had to wait sometimes\nfor supper. If they happened to wait, they would repeat certain\npassages from what had been read or spoken of at dinner. At the\nsupper-table, they would continue their wise talk. After supper they\nused to sing musically, to play on harmonious instruments, and to pass\nthe time away in those little games which wise men know how to play\nwith cards, dice, and goblets. His companions never found these very\ninteresting. No more did Gargantua.\n\n[Illustration: GARGANTUA STUDIES ASTRONOMY.]\n\nWhen bed-time came, Gargantua used to walk with Ponocrates as far as\nthe lodge, looking upon the open street, whence they could better\nsee the face of the sky. There he watched the comet--there happened\nto be one then--and the figure, situation and aspect, opposition and\nconjunction of the stars. Then, with his good teacher, he would briefly\nsum up in the way of the Pythagoreans all that he had read, seen,\nknown, thought, and done in the course of the day.\n\nThen the tired young Giant, tucking his bedclothes lazily around him,\nwould commend himself to Heaven, and stretch his big limbs out on a bed\nthat I am afraid was rather short for him.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV.\n\nHOW THE AWFUL WAR BETWEEN THE BUNMAKERS OF LERNE AND GARGANTUA'S\nCOUNTRY WAS BEGUN.\n\n\n[Illustration: Initial W.]\n\nWhile Gargantua, studying day after day, was finding out that the tasks\nhe had at first thought to be so hard were so easy that they became\nmore a pastime than anything else, and while he was growing to be a\nskilful soldier and a most learned gentleman, his old father, King\nGrandgousier, without his knowing it, had got into a terrible muss with\ncertain Bunmakers of Lerne.\n\nThis is how it happened.\n\nIt was vintage-time, when the great purple grapes, bursting with their\nripeness, were to be gathered, and when the Shepherds of Grandgousier's\nkingdom used to watch the vines like hawks to prevent the starlings\nfrom pecking at the juicy clusters. This vintage-time always made\nbusiness for the Bunmakers of Lerne. Even when in the best of humor,\nhowever, they were always a peppery-touch-me-if-you-dare sort of\nfellows. They brought their buns to market along the great highway,\nin ten or eleven big carts, which filled the air around them with the\nsweetest odors. Of course, trudging along through the white dust of the\nroad, they were sure to meet King Grandgousier's Shepherds watching\ntheir vines, who always made it a rule to step out politely to the edge\nof the highway, hats in hand, to beg the Bunmakers to give them some of\ntheir fine, smoking buns in exchange for their money.\n\nI dare say the Shepherds knew what they were doing. Never were there\nsuch buns as the Bunmakers of Lerne had the fame, all around that\nregion, of making. Taken at breakfast with ripe grapes they were a dish\nfit for a King's table!\n\nBy ill luck, this year above all other years, the Bunmakers chose to\nshow how hot and peppery they could be. Being asked by the Shepherds\nin the usual polite way to sell their buns, they not only refused\noutright, but they began to call the honest Shepherds all the bad names\nthey could think of. There was one Shepherd named Forgier,--a good man,\nand a gay one besides,--who, stepping forward, said in a mild voice to\nthe Bunmakers:--\n\n[Illustration: THE BUNMAKERS OF LERNE.]\n\n\"Friends, this is not acting like neighbors. Haven't you always come by\nthe highway? Haven't you always found us ready to give you good silver\nand copper for your buns? And haven't you always had from us in return\nour fine cheeses, which give their richness to your buns?\"\n\nIt is an old saying that oil will make troubled waters still. But old\nsayings are not always true. This particular saying proved false, for,\nwhen the Bunmakers received Forgier's oil, it only set _their_ water\non fire. \"Come here, sirrah!\" shouted Marquet, the chief Bunmaker, to\nForgier, \"and _I_ will give you your buns.\"\n\nForgier, being a very worthy, unsuspecting fellow, came near with his\nmoney in his hand, like an honest man, thinking all the time that\nMarquet really would let him have the buns, in spite of his rough voice\nand sneering tones. What did Marquet do but, with his long whip, cut\nthe good Forgier about his body and legs so as to make him dance more\nnimbly than he had ever danced before! After that, Marquet got a little\nfrightened and wanted to slip away; but Forgier, while he was bawling\nfor everybody to come to his rescue, took from under his arm a big\ncudgel, with which he hit the bad Bunmaker such a blow on his head as\nto make him fall from his horse more like a dead man than a living one.\n\nBut this was not the end. The good Shepherds, hearing Forgier's cries\nfor help, rushed from their grape-vines to the white, dusty road,\nholding their poles in their hands ready to avenge their comrade. The\nBunmakers, peppery as they might be, were just then trying to get off\nas fast as their horses could carry their carts away; but they were not\nfast enough to prevent the Shepherds from taking from them four or five\ndozen delicious buns, for which they offered, like honest men, to pay\nthe usual price. But the Bunmakers were in too great a hurry for that.\nThey laughed angrily at all these offers, and bore Marquet's body, in a\ndead faint, away with them.\n\nAnd this was how the great and bloody war between the Bunmakers of\nLerne and Gargantua's country began.\n\nThe first thing the Bunmakers did, on getting safe home at Lerne, even\nbefore taking a bit of food or a sup of wine, was to hasten to the\npalace, where, bowing low before their King Picrochole, they spread out\ntheir broken baskets, torn robes, crushed buns, and, at last, with a\ngrand flourish, displayed Marquet himself all covered with dry blood,\nand groaning dreadfully.\n\n\"Who has dared do this?\" shouted King Picrochole, getting very red in\nthe face.\n\n[Illustration: THE ANGER OF PICROCHOLE.]\n\n\"The Shepherds and vine-watchers of that old Giant Grandgousier, may it\nplease Your Majesty,\" answered the Bunmakers.\n\n\"Oh! oh! oh!\" roared Picrochole furiously.\n\nWithout asking for further information or a single proof, Picrochole\nordered the drum to be beat around his city, commanding everybody,\nunder pain of the halter, to appear at broad noon in the great\nsquare. Then he went to dinner. While he was dining, he gave out his\ncommissions to his officers in the army, which, when gathered together,\nwas found to consist of sixteen thousand and fourteen bowmen, and\nthirty thousand and eleven infantry. To the great Equerry Touquedillon\nwas given the command of the artillery, which, when mustered, numbered\nnine hundred and fourteen great brass cannon, culverins, catapults, and\nother pieces of artillery.\n\n[Illustration: CAPTAIN SWILLWIND'S CAVALRY.]\n\nWhen the army was all got together, a troop of Light Cavalry, three\nhundred strong, under Captain Swillwind, was sent forward to scour the\ncountry of the enemy, and find out what ambuscades had been laid; but\nthey could find none. Grandgousier's Shepherds were still peacefully\nwatching their grape-vines, and looking out only for the bad starlings.\nWhen the report was made that the land was clear, Picrochole, all of\na sudden bold, ordered a quick advance, each company marching under\nits own captain. Without any order or discipline, the army swept over\nKing Grandgousier's fields, meeting no opposition; laying them waste;\nsparing neither rich nor poor; respecting no holy place; carrying away\nthe bellowing oxen, mooing cows, roaring bulls, crying calves, bleating\nlambs, ewes, rams, goats, cackling hens, crowing cocks, piping chicks,\ngoslings, ganders, geese, grunting swine, and suckling pigs; beating\ndown the ripe walnuts; tearing up the vines, and pulling all the fruit\nfrom the trees. Now and then, a frightened Shepherd would crawl from\nhis hiding-place and beg for mercy, on the ground that he and the\nBunmakers had always been the best neighbors together, and that it\nwould be a shame to treat him like a foe. All the Bunmakers did was to\nlaugh at so mean-spirited a fellow, while shouting that they were bound\nto teach him how to eat their buns. So, like a great wave of blood,\nthey rolled on till they reached Seuilly. Then the mighty army, after\nsacking the town, rushed, shouting like madmen, to the very walls of\nthe great and venerable Abbey of Seuilly, which they found very thick,\nand strengthened by a huge gate made fast against them. The main body\nmarched away towards the Ford of Vede, leaving seven bodies of infantry\nwith their standards, and two hundred lancers, to break down the wall,\nwhich they did very soon, with fierce cries of \"Let us spoil the monks!\"\n\n[Illustration: SPOILING THE MONKS.]\n\nOf course, the poor monks were not fighting men. And when they found\ntheir convent walls broken through and their fields at the mercy of the\nBunmakers, all they could think of doing was to go to their Chapel,\nfrom which they intended to come forth in a solemn procession to\nentreat the wicked men to leave them alone. While the monks, headed by\ntheir Prior himself, were singing psalms and getting ready to leave\nthe Chapel, in rushed a young monk, with flaming eyes, who had seen\nwhat was going on in the vineyard.\n\n\"That's very well sung, brethren!\" he shouted; \"very well sung, indeed!\nBut why don't you sing, 'Good-by, basket, the vintage is over'? Don't\nyou know that those fellows are breaking down our vines, and that we\nshall have no good wine this year?\"\n\nNow this young monk, who was called Friar John, was, I am afraid,\nlooked upon by his pious brethren as rather a black sheep. He was tall,\nstraight as an arrow, strong as a bull, a little quick of speech,\nskilful in all games, and as brave as a lion. So, when he looked in\nupon the singing monks, and found them ready to give up everything,\noff came his frock, and catching up a great staff near by, which was\nas long as a lance and as big around as the fist, he rushed out and\nfell upon the enemy, who were thinking of everything save the praying\nmonks in the Abbey. The flag-bearers had piled their flags all along\nthe walls to work the better, the drummers had opened one end of their\ndrums and stuffed them with grapes, and the very trumpets were running\nover with juice.\n\n[Illustration: FRIAR JOHN ATTACKS THE BUNMAKERS.]\n\nThen it was that Friar John--holding his staff high in the air--swept\ndown upon the scattered Bunmakers like a hurricane! It was \"first come,\nfirst served\" with Friar John. The first thwack crashed through the\ncrown of a big-headed bun-man, and brought him down. Then the staff,\nwith just a little blood on it now, went spinning around to the right\nand left--up and down, first on one, then another--in fact, everywhere.\nIt broke the legs of this one, the arms of that one, and the neck of\nstill another. It gouged the eyes, drove teeth down throats, smashed\nin ribs, and made jaws crack. If any one wanted to hide between the\nthick vines, Friar John was sure to spy him out and bring him to the\nground with a broken back. If any one wanted to run away, the terrible\nstaff would reach him, and he would fall, shouting: \"I surrender!\" When\nthe slaughter had gone on for some time, Friar John stopped, and for\ngood reason; for, looking around him, he could no longer see a single\nBunmaker standing on his feet, and he was only giving wild blows in the\nair. Then he rested, and it was found that he had, with his single\narm, killed the whole army which had remained behind in the vineyards\nof the convent, numbering thirteen thousand six hundred and twenty-two\nmen. But Friar John had struck down some other things besides the army,\nand these were the purple vines loaded with the rich and juicy grapes,\nwhich made the delicious convent wine famous throughout all the land.\n\nAfter all, the rascal Bunmakers _had_ spoiled the vintage!\n\n[Illustration: FRIAR JOHN TO THE RESCUE.]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XV.\n\nHOW OLD KING GRANDGOUSIER RECEIVED THE NEWS.\n\n\n[Illustration: Initial W.]\n\nWhile Friar John was cracking skulls, and breaking limbs, and\nflattening noses, and ramming teeth down throats, Picrochole, King of\nLerne, had, with his Bunmakers and in the greatest haste, crossed the\nFord of Vede and ordered the town of Roche-Clermaud to surrender, which\ndid not make him wait long before opening its gates to him. We shall\nleave him there while we see how King Grandgousier had received the\nnews of this sudden war.\n\nOne rainy evening, the fine old gentleman happened to be in a very good\nhumor. He was, as usual after supper, seated warming his knees, which\nwere somewhat rheumatic, before a blazing fire; and, while waiting for\nthe chestnuts to be roasted to a turn, was passing the time by writing\non the red hearth with a burnt stick and making Queen Gargamelle\nlaugh by telling his funny stories of old times. While he was in the\nvery midst of one of these funny old stories, and the chestnuts were\nsmelling as if they wanted to be eaten, here comes a servant to tell\nKing Grandgousier that one of his Shepherds was down in the court-yard\nbegging to see him.\n\n\"What does the varlet want?\" asked the old King. He didn't mean to be\nangry, but his surprise made his big voice sound very loud and very\ngruff.\n\n\"To see Your Majesty.\"\n\n\"And what does he want to see My Majesty for? But bring him up. I\nshan't know any sooner by waiting for thee to tell me.\"\n\nWho should it be but one of the very Shepherds, who had been watching\nthe vines and the rich purple grapes when the trouble began? He was\nfull of it,--so brimming full that he could hardly speak for his\neagerness to tell all he knew. At last, he managed to let the King know\nwhat the bad Bunmakers of Lerne had done with his subjects' vineyards;\nhow the wicked King Picrochole had been running over his lands, doing\npretty much what he liked in the way of burning houses, sacking towns,\nand tramping down vines; and how he was, just at this time, shutting\nthe gates of Roche-Clermaud against His Majesty.\n\n[Illustration: PICROCHOLE'S ARMY.]\n\nIt was sad to see how the old Giant received this bad news. He was the\nkindest and friendliest of neighbors to all the Kings around him. He\nhad never been known to go to war with any of them, and no neighbor\nhad ever once thought before of going to war with him. What the good\nold man liked was peace, so that he could, every day after supper, eat\nroasted chestnuts, and tell fine stories of old times, while writing\nwith a burnt stick on the red hearth.\n\n\"_Holos! holos!_\" cried Grandgousier; \"what is all this, good people?\nAm I dreaming? Or is this really true that I hear? Can Picrochole, the\ndear friend of my youth, close to me in blood and alliance, mean to\nwar against me and my people? Who leads him on? Who has induced him\nto do this? Ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! May he believe me when I say that I\nhave never done any harm to him or his people! On the contrary, I have\nhelped him whenever he wanted money; and that was very often. Ho! ho\nho! my good people, my friends, and all my faithful servants, I cannot\nprevent your coming to my aid. _Las!_ I am getting old. All my life I\nhave worked for peace. Now I must have war. _Las! Las!_\"\n\nWhile saying all this, he roared in his despair, without knowing it,\nso fiercely that the chestnut-roasters ran away in their fright,\nleaving their chestnuts to pop and burn on the griddles. Only the\nCouncil remained, who always made it a point to be present at supper.\nKing Grandgousier at once called the Council together for special\ndeliberation, by inviting them to sit at the supper-table without\neating, and talk about affairs. After three hours of close debate, two\npoints were fully agreed on:--\n\n1. To send an army to Picrochole to treat about matters.\n\n2. To write to Prince Gargantua.\n\nIt was further resolved to send Ulrich Gallet, the very next day, with\nfive carts full of buns, with instructions to tell Picrochole that the\nold King was willing to give these _five cart-loads_ of buns to make\ngood those _five dozen buns_ which had been taken by his Shepherds.\n\n[Illustration: GRANDGOUSIER WRITES TO GARGANTUA.]\n\nThen Grandgousier wrote a letter to Gargantua, telling about the war\non his hands, in which he said: \"My resolve is not to provoke, rather\nto pacify; but, if assailed, to defend myself. Come, my Gargantua, my\nwell-beloved, come! Thy Father wants thee!\"\n\nBy this time the chestnuts were all burnt black, and there wasn't a\nsingle spark to be seen among the ashes.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI.\n\nHOW GRANDGOUSIER TRIED TO BUY PEACE WITH FIVE CART-LOADS OF BUNS.\n\n\n[Illustration: Initial K.]\n\nKing Picrochole must have been a very mean man. You will begin to\nthink so when you know how he treated Ulrich Gallet, who was sent by\ngood old Father Grandgousier to make peace. Ulrich left the palace\nwith five cart-loads of splendid buns, four of these carts being for\nthe Bunmakers, and the fifth and last cart being filled to the brim\nwith buns good enough to make any one's mouth water, being made of the\npurest butter, the most delicious honey, the freshest eggs, and the\nrichest saffron and other spices ever known. As Ulrich went along the\nhigh-road, people would curl up their noses in delight, take two or\nthree long sniffs, and then cry out: \"Ah! that last cart is the best of\nall.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Ulrich would answer; \"the buns in that cart are sent by King\nGrandgousier to Marquet himself.\"\n\n\"Who is Marquet?\"\n\n\"Why, don't you know that he is the man who struck our friend Forgier\nacross the shins and got beaten by our Shepherds? His Majesty has given\nme seven hundred thousand and three gold crowns for him to pay the\nsurgeon who nursed his wounds.\"\n\n\"Oh! how good a King we have!\"\n\n\"Yes, and, what is more, His Majesty offers to give Marquet and his\nheirs an apple-orchard forever, so dearly does he love peace.\"\n\n\"Was there ever such a King as ours!\" cried the people on the road,\nsending Ulrich on with another cart-load of blessings for each mile,\nso that by the time he reached King Picrochole's Court there must have\nbeen quite a train of carts.\n\n[Illustration: GRANDGOUSIER'S EMBASSY.]\n\nWhen Ulrich got near Roche-Clermaud, he began to fear that he wouldn't\nbe allowed to get into it unless he could first show that he and his\ncarts were the best of friends. So, just before reaching the limits,\nhe placed all around his carts a great store of reeds, canes, and\nwillow-boughs, and took good care to have every one of the drivers\ndecorated with the same, which made them look very friendly, indeed. So\ngreat was Ulrich's desire to appear like a friend that he even held a\nbranch of each in his own hand. At this sight, the people of Lerne did\nnot curl up their noses with quite so much delight, nor take quite so\nmany sniffs, as the good Shepherds who had already been enjoying the\nfragrance of the buns. But, without minding cross words and sour looks,\nMaster Ulrich Gallet at last reached the gates of King Picrochole's\nPalace.\n\nPicrochole did not want either to let him come in, or go out to meet\nhim, but sent word to him, instead, to tell what he had to say to\nCaptain Touquedillon. Then the good man, clearing his throat, said:--\n\n\"My lord, to take away all cause for any further trouble, and to remove\nany excuse for your master and mine not becoming once more the best of\nfriends, I have brought with me the buns about which all this trouble\nbegan. Our people took from yours five dozen buns. Good!--your people\nwere well paid for them. We love peace so dearly that we bring you five\ncarts full of buns for the five dozen which we took. One of these is\nfor Marquet, and, besides that, here are seven hundred thousand and\nthree gold crowns for him, and also a deed to him and his heirs forever\nof one of our best apple-orchards. Let us live in peace hereafter, and\ndo you return to your own country and leave this city, to which you\nhave no right, as you yourself know.\"\n\nNow, this Captain Touquedillon was a snakish sort of man; and when he\nheard honest Ulrich talk he went straight to Picrochole, and coiled and\ntwisted what he had heard in such a way that poor Ulrich, could he have\nheard it, wouldn't have known it to be his own. The snakish Captain\nadded that they had got into a trap in Roche-Clermaud, and that those\nfive carts had come in the very nick of time for the starving soldiers.\n\n\"You say well,\" cried Picrochole, \"seize the buns the rascal has\nbrought!\"\n\n\"And the money?\"\n\n\"Seize that too!\"\n\nThen Captain Touquedillon, without further ado, sent his men out of the\ngate to take the money, the buns, the oxen, and the carts.\n\nGood Ulrich returned to Grandgousier, and told him all these things.\nThis made the gentle old Giant very sad. He stopped telling stories\nof old times, and took no more pleasure in roasted chestnuts. He saw\nthat there must be a war, and a bitter one. He ceased to talk, and was\nalways sighing. All that he ever would say, after long hours of silence\nand sighs, was:--\n\n\"Ho, there! Has my boy Gargantua come yet?\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII.\n\nHOW GARGANTUA, WITH A BIG TREE, BROKE DOWN A CASTLE AND PASSED THE FORD\nOF VEDE.\n\n\n[Illustration: Initial G.]\n\nGargantua was a good son if ever there was one. The minute he read his\nFather's letter begging him to come home, he ordered his great Mare\nto be bridled and saddled. It was less than thirty minutes after this\nthat he was galloping on the road along with wise old Ponocrates, his\nfaithful Squire Gymnaste, and the pretty little page Eudemon. This\ncertainly was not a very strong escort, but Gargantua's single arm was\nworth an army.\n\nThe servants followed slowly with his baggage, books, and philosophical\ninstruments.\n\nHaving got as far as Parill\u00e9, they were told how Picrochole had\ntaken Roche-Clermaud, and how his men had been robbing and pillaging\neverywhere, and had been frightening everybody so much that nobody was\nbrave enough to tell on them. Another piece of news Gargantua heard at\nParill\u00e9. This was that one of Picrochole's fiercest officers, Captain\nTripet, had been sent to take possession of several points near the\nFord of Vede.\n\n\"Ho! ho! ho!\" cried Gargantua. \"Let us ride, then, as fast as we can to\nthe Ford of Vede.\"\n\n\"No, Prince,\" said Ponocrates; \"what I would advise you to do is to\nride on a few miles farther, to the house of the Lord of Vauguyon. He\nis an old friend of your royal Father, and can give us better counsel\nthan we can get in this place.\"\n\n\"Well, then, so be it,\" said Gargantua.\n\nThe whole party galloped swiftly to Vauguyon, where they were received\nwith open gates and a steaming supper. After wine had been drunk, and\nthe Lord of Vauguyon had settled down to talk, Gargantua was told that\nall that had been said was true. Picrochole's soldiers were both at\nRoche-Clermaud and the Ford of Vede. On hearing this, the Prince would\nnot wait to sleep, so anxious was he to rush to the help of his good\nold Father. The Lord of Vauguyon tried to keep him in the Castle until\nafter a great storm, which then threatened, was over. It was of no use,\nGargantua would hear nothing.\n\n\"To your saddles, gentlemen!\" he cried. \"It is at the Ford we shall\nhunt Picrochole's mannikins!\"\n\n[Illustration: GARGANTUA HURRIES HOME.]\n\nOnce more mounted on his great Mare he started for the Ford. His lips\nwere pressed close, and his eyes glared fiercely down from a height\ngreater than that of the tallest trees. \"His Highness is very angry,\"\nPonocrates whispered to Gymnaste. (For the first time he was afraid of\nhis pupil.) \"His Highness is awful mad,\" Gymnaste whispered to Eudemon.\nOn getting near the Ford, what should Gargantua do but tear up a fine\nand stately tree which he found growing by the roadside, stripping its\nbranches and leaves till he made it a bare pole of enormous length\nand strength. \"Just what I have been looking for!\" he said to himself;\n\"this tree will serve me both as staff and lance.\"\n\nAll this was being done under a fearful tempest of rain. The storm\nhad burst, as the Lord of Vauguyon had foreseen. Ponocrates could\nhardly sit on his horse, for the heavy drops fell like so much lead;\ndainty little Eudemon was quite crushed, and could only keep himself\nfrom falling by clasping his horse's neck; and all Gymnaste could do\nto keep his spirits up and his blood warm was, every now and then, to\nturn somersaults on the back of his horse, stand on his head, on the\ntip of his thumb, and skip from side to side like a monkey. All this\ntime Gargantua, seated on his great Mare, did not feel the rain any\nmore than if it was not roaring and hissing around him, filling all the\nstreams along the road, and making a deluge around the Ford.\n\n[Illustration: GYMNASTE WARMS HIMSELF.]\n\nHe was soon to see, however, that if he himself, being a Giant, could\nstand this sudden flood, smaller men could not. The first thing he\nheard on going a little farther, from some people who were running to\nthe high grounds for safety, was that the Ford was all swollen, and\nthat thousands of men had been drowned in it.\n\nHe could not understand this,--of course he could not, being a\nGiant,--but what he did understand better was what that sly little page\nEudemon, who had galloped ahead to get shelter from the rain, told him.\nThe news Eudemon brought was that Picrochole's men were in a Castle\nthis side of the Ford, and that before his master could hope to reach\nit he must take the Castle, or they would take him.\n\n[Illustration: THE CASTLE OF ROCHE-CLERMAUD.]\n\nIn a little while they came near the Castle. The great, gloomy building\nseemed deserted. Not a face was to be seen either from window or\nturret. Riding alone to the front of it, Gargantua shouted out at the\ntop of his voice to those inside:--\n\n\"Are you there, or are you not? If you are there, don't stay! If you\nare not there, I shall have all this trouble for nothing.\"\n\nAll the answer a bold cannoneer, who had not been seen, and who was\nwatching behind the ramparts, gave, was, after taking aim point-blank,\nto fire his cannon off, the ball furiously striking Gargantua on the\nright temple, but for all that not hurting him in the least.\n\n[Illustration: CANNONADING GARGANTUA.]\n\n\"What is that?\" he shouted. \"How, are those fellows throwing\ngrape-seeds at us? If they are, the harvest will cost them dear,\"\nthinking that the balls were only grape-seeds.\n\nOn hearing his words--they could have been heard a mile off--those in\nthe Castle rushed pell-mell to the towers and ramparts, and fired\nmore than nine thousand and twenty-five shots from their falcons and\narquebuses, aiming each shot straight at Gargantua's head, which\ntowered high above the ramparts. The guns were well pointed, and the\nballs hit the Giant so often that they began to bother him.\n\n\"Look here, Ponocrates, my friend,\" he called to Ponocrates, who had\njust come up; \"these flies are blinding my eyes! Jump down, please, and\nget me the biggest branch you can find to drive them away.\"\n\nAll this time, he was fully convinced that the leaden balls and the big\nstones hurled from the artillery were so many flies.\n\n[Illustration: GARGANTUA DESTROYS THE CASTLE.]\n\nGiants are always very hard-headed, and sometimes as simple as they are\nhard-headed. Ponocrates, who knew better than that, told him what it\nwas that was falling around him. Then, for the first time, Gargantua\ngot really mad. He raised his big tree in proper position, and, turning\nthe head of his Mare well towards the Castle, rushed furiously against\nthe walls, tearing down all the towers and buttresses, and laying them\nin ruins on the ground. Not one of all those in the Castle, who had\nbeen laughing and making Gargantua their target from the ramparts,\nescaped. Paying no more attention to the ruins he went on to the\nmill-bridge, and found all the Ford, swollen by the rain, covered over\nwith corpses, and in such number that the dead bodies had actually\ncaused the water of the mill to stop running. Standing on the bank\nthe party waited a bit, not at all liking to ride over dead men. That\nskipping monkey, Gymnaste, was the first to cross. He loudly swore that\nhis horse was afraid of nothing, and that at home the beast never could\nget his feed without first stepping over a stuffed body, always put for\nthat purpose in his way.\n\nThis satisfied the others, who soon crossed after Gymnaste, and\nGargantua and his great Mare slowly followed, last of all.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVIII.\n\nHOW GARGANTUA COMBED CANNON-BALLS OUT OF HIS HAIR, AND HOW HE ATE SIX\nPILGRIMS IN A SALAD BEFORE SUPPER.\n\n\n[Illustration: Initial G.]\n\nGrandgousier's Palace was not far from the Ford. In a very short time\nafter leaving the river Gargantua galloped into the court-yard, where\nhe was joyfully welcomed by the old King himself. You may imagine how\nhe laughed, and then cried, and then laughed once more, loud and long,\nover his big son, for whom he had been so anxiously waiting. But the\nlaughter lived after the tears. A queer thing happened after everybody\nhad got comfortably seated. Gargantua, feeling a little warm after his\nride, had already washed himself and put on some clean clothes, for he\nhad learned to be a neat man ever since Ponocrates had given him that\nmysterious dose. He was now combing his thick hair, in a lazy sort of\na way, with his own comb, which had been specially made in Africa for\nthe young Prince on his tenth birthday. It was very large,--larger, in\nfact, than any comb that had ever before passed through a Giant's hair.\nEach tooth was an elephant's tusk, taken just as it had stood in the\nelephant's jaw. Every time Gargantua passed the comb through his locks,\nhalf a dozen of those balls which had stuck there when he was going\nthrough the wood of Vede would drop on the floor with a clattering\nnoise.\n\nThe amazement of good Father Grandgousier, who had his glasses off\nand was nearly blind without them, when he heard these cannon-balls\ntumbling down from his son's head on the floor, was something worth\nseeing.\n\n[Illustration: GARGANTUA COMBS HIS HAIR.]\n\n\"Ho! ho! ho! my good son, hast thou brought fleas all this way from\nParis? Didst thou think we had none of our own here?\"\n\nWhen Gargantua, on looking down, saw several balls at his feet, he did\nnot know what to say. He had not felt them, and was even more puzzled\nthan his father. But wise Master Ponocrates was always ready to give\nthe best answer, in the best place, and in the wisest way, to any\nquestion asked. Stooping and picking up one of the balls, he said,\nbowing respectfully:--\n\n\"This, Your Majesty, is one of the cannon-balls which your son, while\nhe was passing the wood of Vede, received through the treachery of your\nenemies.\"\n\n\"So that's it, is it?\" cried Father Grandgousier. \"Oh! the audacious\nvermin, to try and shoot my only son! Ho! ho! I hope not one of the\nrascals was allowed to escape.\"\n\n\"All of them,\" answered Ponocrates solemnly, \"perished in the ruins.\"\n\n\"That is just as it should be,\" the old King said. \"Now, my lords, to\nsupper!\"\n\nThere never was a supper so soon ready! For, when the order had been\nfirst given, the three Very Fat Cooks--Snapsauce, Hotchpotch, and\nBraverjuice--all came forward gravely, and with their right hands on\ntheir hearts swore they would soon have the finest supper that had ever\nbeen eaten, even in the Palace which was famed throughout the world for\nthe perfection of its feasts.\n\nAnd such a supper as they did make!\n\nWhen the Chief Cook Snapsauce was asked for an account of what he had\nsent up, here is the list he gave, all the while strutting like a\nturkey-cock; and he was just as red as one, too, as he read it,--so\nfull of pride and of the kitchen-fire was he:--\n\n    Sixteen roasted beeves,\n    Three heifers,\n    Thirty-two calves,\n    Sixty-three kids,\n    Ninety-five sheep,\n    Two hundred and twenty partridges,\n    Seven hundred snipe,\n    Four hundred capons of Loudunois,\n    Six thousand pullets,\n    The same number of pigeons,\n    Six hundred young, but specially fat, pullets,\n    Fourteen hundred young hares,\n    Three hundred and three bustards.\n\nBesides these domestic birds and beasts there were to be found at this\nwonderful feast, eleven wild boars, kindly sent by the good Abb\u00e9 de\nTurpenay; eighteen red deer, the gift of the Lord of Grandmont; one\nhundred and forty pheasants, from the Lord of Essars; and such a number\nof nice things in the shape of turkeys, birds, ducks, wild geese,\nswans, varied by the best vegetables that could be found, the country\nround, as had never been known to be brought together on the same\ntable.\n\n[Illustration: AND SUCH A SUPPER!]\n\nI have not yet told something that took place a little while before\nthis great supper. While all were waiting for it, Gargantua suddenly\ncried out: \"Ho! I feel dreadfully thirsty! Somebody bring me a lettuce.\"\n\nFather Grandgousier, well pleased to grant whatever his son asked, but\nwanting to see him work a little for his own pleasure, answered him\ngaily:--\n\n\"There are some very fine lettuces growing in yonder garden, my boy. If\nthou wantest them the best thing thou canst do is to seek them thyself.\nThou canst find none so tall as they in all this country.\"\n\nSure enough, when Gargantua walked into the garden he found lettuces\nof all sizes; some as high as plum-trees, and others again quite as\ntall as walnut-trees. He cut and whacked away at his will, and picked\nthem up in his big arms, without, for a moment, troubling himself about\nwhat might be hidden in them. Now, it happened that six pilgrims, who,\nin coming all the way from St. Sebastian, had decided to rest for the\nnight, had chanced, unfortunately, to be taking a quiet little nap\nbetween the cabbages and lettuces of the Royal Garden. When they were\nsnatched up by Gargantua along with the lettuces, the poor pilgrims,\nonly half-awake, were so frightened that they didn't dare even cough,\nmuch less say a word.\n\n[Illustration: THE PILGRIMS IN THE GARDEN.]\n\nGargantua, being a fine, hearty fellow, was rather pleased with the\nidea of waiting on himself, and so, after carrying his lettuces to the\nfountain, he thought he might as well wash them, while his merry old\nfather looked on, laughing at the joke. All this time the pilgrims,\nbeing half-drowned and in an awful fright, were whispering softly\nwhenever they could get a chance to do so, one to the other:--\n\n\"Oh! what is this monster going to do with us? What is to become of us?\nThat fountain is drowning us among all these lettuces! Shall we speak?\nBut, if we say a word, that big fellow will kill us all as spies, sure.\nOh! we are undone!\"\n\nWhile the pilgrims were thus giving way to their fears, Gargantua\nwould, every now and then, whirl them around in the water along with\nhis lettuces. Then he put the mess, just as it stood, into the biggest\ndish in the royal household, adding oil and vinegar and salt, and mixed\nthem all well together. He had no sooner done so than he began to eat\nthe lettuces, and, of course, with the lettuces, to gobble up the poor\npilgrims. He had already taken five of them. The sixth was still in the\ngreat dish hidden away under a lettuce and, what from the water, and\nwhat from fear, was in a cold sweat. All that appeared of him was his\npilgrim's staff, which he had never stopped clutching and which peered\noutside of the green herbs. When Father Grandgousier saw the staff, he\ncried out to Gargantua:--\n\n\"I do believe that is a snail's horn under that lettuce! Don't eat it.\"\n\n\"Why not, father?\" answered Gargantua; \"thou knowest snails are good\nall this month.\"\n\nWhat should he do then but draw out the staff and, with it, the unhappy\npilgrim, whom, without seeing,--or, for that matter, feeling,--he\nswallowed with the greatest ease! Then he poured down his great throat\na horrible draught of country wine, while saying: \"That salad has given\nme a famous appetite! Is supper ready?\"\n\nWe already know how the supper went off; and, of course, what we want\nto know now is how the pilgrims could possibly get out of a Giant's\nmouth, having once got into it. The first thing they did, on being\ngobbled up, was to draw themselves out from Gargantua's great teeth\nas well as they could, thinking all the time that they had been cast\ninto the deepest dungeon of some frightful prison. That was bad enough;\nbut when Gargantua began to swallow his big drink, tossing the green\nlettuces past his teeth and sending it rushing down his throat like\na sour deluge, they found themselves in a terrible fix and in danger\nof drowning. It was then that the poor fellows began to hop for their\nlives. Leaping nimbly, by aid of their staffs, they succeeded at last\nin getting out of the throat, and finding refuge outside of Gargantua's\nteeth. By ill luck, however, one of them, feeling here and there with\nhis staff to know whether the country around was quite safe, gave a\nsudden plunge into the hollow of a bad tooth which had been troubling\nthe Giant for some time. At this, Gargantua began to roar with the\npain he felt. All he could think of in his agony was to call for his\ntoothpick. When he got it, he began to prod viciously into the bad\ntooth. At last he grew tired, and putting his finger into his mouth,\nhe hauled out one of the pilgrims by the leg; another by the wallet;\nanother by his purse; another by the arm; and the poor man, who had\ncaused all the trouble, by his neck; and threw each on the ground as\none might a fish-bone.\n\nAs soon as they found themselves on the ground the pilgrims, without\nstopping to explain how it happened that they had been found in the\nlettuce-field, and feeling sure that Gargantua had not seen them,\nscampered away as fast as their legs could carry them.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIX.\n\nHOW FRIAR JOHN COMES TO THE FEAST, AND HOW KING GRANDGOUSIER HAD\nRECRUITED HIS ARMY.\n\n\n[Illustration: Initial I.]\n\nIt was, of course, at this same supper, of which the three Very Fat\nCooks were so proud, that the old King, as soon as ever the company\nwere seated, started to give the whole story of the wicked war which\nPicrochole had made on him. When he came to that part of his story, in\nwhich he had to speak of the wonderful things Friar John had done in\nthe Abbey vineyard, nothing would do but that the brave monk should be\ninvited to the Palace to receive the thanks of the whole joyous party.\n\nGargantua sent post-haste for Friar John.\n\nIn a little while--for the Abbey was not very far off--here came the\ngood Friar on King Grandgousier's own mule, with his famous staff held\nfirmly in his right hand. When he was once fairly in the dining-room, a\nthousand caresses and another thousand compliments greeted him.\n\n\"Welcome, Friar John! Thou comest in good time! Welcome, brave cousin!\"\nshouted Grandgousier.\n\n\"We have kept your seat for you, Friar John,\" roared both Grandgousier\nand Gargantua in a sort of giant concert.\n\nAnd so, at last, seated on the right hand of Grandgousier, the Friar\nwas prevailed on to tell, in his own way, the story of his great fight\nfor the Abbey. Nothing would do them but that everybody should jump\nup to see and feel for himself the glorious staff, with which so many\nvaliant deeds had been done.\n\nThen the staff was reverently placed in a corner of the room.\n\n[Illustration: FRIAR JOHN ARRIVES.]\n\nAfter supper, there was a long consultation about what ought to be done\nwith Picrochole. As is always the way, one said one thing; another\nunsaid it; one had a plan; some one else had something better. It was\nfinally resolved not to wait for another day, but to start the very\nnext midnight, which--it being now two o'clock in the afternoon--was\nonly ten hours off. While some young men were sent out as spies to\nbring word what Picrochole was doing, the rest began to arm themselves\nwith breast-plate and back-plate and all the iron and steel plates they\ncould get hold of. There was a little trouble about what Friar John\nwas to wear. They wanted to put their iron and steel stuff on him; but\nthe brave monk wouldn't agree to it. He rushed to the corner where his\nstaff was, grasped it with both hands, and waved it in the air, saying,\n\"Don't trouble yourselves about me, good friends. _This_ is what I\nsaved my Abbey with! I know _it_, and it knows _me_; it is good enough\nfor _me!_ I am heart and soul with you. All I ask for is a stout horse,\nand you will find me with my staff by your side whenever you want me.\"\n\n\"Very well, Friar,\" Gargantua said, laughing. \"Every conqueror has the\nright to choose his weapons. _You_ are a conqueror; keep yours.\"\n\nWhen all the clocks were striking midnight, Gargantua left the Palace\nwith Ponocrates, Friar John always carrying his staff, Gymnaste,\nEudemon the page, and twenty-five of the most adventurous knights, all\narmed from head to foot, and mounted like great Saint George himself,\neach with a stout archer behind him.\n\nThese were to be followed, the next morning, by the whole army, which\nhad been recruited in a fashion that would look very strange to-day.\nLet me tell you how it all was!\n\nBefore Gargantua had come back from Paris, and while Picrochole\nwas still galloping with his wicked soldiers over rich fields, and\ntrampling down fruits and vines, and cursing and cutting and slashing\naway, and killing just as the fancy took him, Father Grandgousier had\nsent messages to his friends and neighbors living a hundred miles\naround, telling them all about the war; how his son Gargantua, in whom\nhe trusted, was far away in Paris, studying hard at his Latin; and\nasking them to help him just as much as they could in money and men. It\nwas in this way that it was made as clear as the bright sun shining in\nheaven at noonday, how many friends the good old Giant really had. Some\nmight say all this was because he was a Giant; but I think it was not\nso much that as because he had always, through a long life, been kind\nand gentle to little men.\n\nTaking what one Prince, and another, gave in money, Father Grandgousier\nraised among his neighbors one hundred and thirty-four million and two\nand a half crowns of pure gold.\n\nWhen he read their lists, giving the number of soldiers each one was\nable to lend him, he found that he would have:--\n\n    15,000 men at arms.\n    32,000 cavalrymen.\n    89,000 arquebusiers.\n    140,000 volunteers.\n\nThat is to say, 276,000 stout soldiers, all well equipped and\nprovisioned for six months and four days. To which were to be added:--\n\n    11,200 cannon.\n    47,000 double cannon, etc.\n\nThe good old Giant felt very grateful; but he swore, nevertheless, a\nround oath that there was no need for him to accept so great an army.\nWhere was he to put two hundred and seventy-six thousand soldiers?\nWhere could he store away fifty-eight thousand cannon? If he could only\nbe sure that his Gargantua would come home in time, why, he wouldn't\ncare for any army at all!\n\n\"If my boy Gargantua should once get among that Picrochole gang, he\nwould scatter them over the border quicker than they ever crossed it,\"\nhe was saying to himself all the time.\n\nMeanwhile, that rogue Picrochole was going on at such a rate with his\npastime of cursing, killing, cutting, and slashing at men, and ravaging\nvineyards, and burning houses, that Grandgousier found that he had\nreally to do something that would strike terror. So he sent another\nRoyal Messenger to his friends the Princes, telling them that he would\nbe satisfied, for the present, with\n\n    2,500 men-at-arms.\n    66,000 infantry.\n    26,000 arquebusiers.\n    22,000 pioneers.\n    6,000 light cavalry.\n\n122,500 men, all to be well equipped and provisioned by his friends, as\npromised. He added, in a postscript, that all else he needed would be\ntwo hundred pieces of heavy artillery.\n\n[Illustration: THE ADVANCE GUARD STARTS.]\n\n\"Let them come at once,\" he said. \"If my little boy should choose to\nstay among those wild Paris lads, they may be useful. But if he once\ngets home, I wouldn't give that\"--snapping his fat old fingers--\"for\nthe whole Picrochole gang!\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nFor a wonder, the army got to the Palace a week before Gargantua\nreached it.\n\n[Illustration: GRANDGOUSIER'S ARMY.]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XX.\n\nGARGANTUA'S MARE SCORES A VICTORY.\n\n\n[Illustration: Initial T.]\n\nThis was the army that followed Gargantua at daybreak and came up with\nhim at the Ford of Vede. Gargantua was commander-in-chief in place of\nGrandgousier, who, being old, of course stayed at home. But that was a\nglorious early breakfast which the old King gave to the soldiers before\nthey left; and he made it more glorious by promising great gifts to\nevery man who would do some wonderful act of prowess. \"They will not\nhave a chance to do anything,\" he whispered confidentially to his Chief\nButler, whom he had raised to a level with his mouth. \"_My boy will be\nthere!_\"\n\nThe army crossed the Ford in boats and on bridges lightly made over\nsmaller boats, which dipped to the water's edge as the soldiers passed\nover. After a short march they came upon the city, which was placed\nupon a high hill. There they halted. Gargantua called a council, and\nwith his friends discussed all night what was best to be done next\nmorning. Gymnaste was the first to speak to the point.\n\n\"My lord,\" he said, \"I am in favor of attacking at once. You will do so\nif you know those French fellows as well as I do. They are _terrible_\nfoes at the first assault, when they are worse than so many devils.\nBut if they are kept idle, and dream too long of their sweethearts and\ntheir vines, they lose heart, and become worse than so many women.\"\n\nGargantua was nodding approval all the time Gymnaste was speaking.\nHe was quite sure, in his own mind, that, when once _he_ would show\nhimself on his great Mare, and with his huge tree held as a lance,\nPicrochole would lose the field. But he had no idea of putting himself\nforward just then. So he said nothing more than: \"So be it! We advance\nat daylight.\"\n\n[Illustration: MOUNTING FOR THE FRAY.]\n\nThe advance-guard were stationed on the hill-side, while the main army\nremained on the plain. Faithful Friar John took with him six companies\nof infantry and two hundred horsemen, and, with all speed, crossed\nthe marsh, and gained, on the highway of London, a point just above\nthe Castle. While the assault was going on, Picrochole and his people\ndidn't know at first which was better: whether to march out from the\nCastle, resolved to conquer or to die, or to stay in the city, and\nlet the enemy outside do their worst. At last Picrochole himself grew\ntired. He had done nothing during the whole war but take care of his\nown precious body behind the walls of the city, while his officers and\nsoldiers slashed and killed the poor subjects of Grandgousier at their\nwill. He had not heard a whisper of how Gargantua had come all the way\nfrom Paris, and was then actually in front. He swore roundly, over his\ncups, that Gargantua was not there, or he would have heard of it long\nbefore. \"Ha! ha! Giants are too big to hide themselves. Victory shall\nbe ours!\" he cried.\n\n[Illustration: THE ASSAULT.]\n\nThis was what made Picrochole bold enough to make an attack. Once\nbeyond the gate, he and his army were received with such a welcome of\ncannon-balls that they were for a moment confused. Picrochole looked\naround for the Gargantuists; he couldn't see one of them, as Friar\nJohn had taken his men back with him to the hills, so as to give the\nartillery room to work. Encouraged by this, Picrochole defended himself\nso bravely under the terrible fires, and advanced so steadily all the\ntime on the guns, that the gunners were obliged to flee for their\nlives, and Friar John himself found it hard to keep him from charging\nover his small force.\n\n\"Oh, ho! Friar John,\" he muttered to himself, \"thou thinkest thyself a\nfine soldier, truly! But it is high time now to call the Giant.\" So he\nshouted with the full strength of his sturdy lungs:--\n\n\"Help! help! help! Prince Gargantua to the rescue!\"\n\nOne might live to be as old as Methuselah, and never see such a change\nin either a general or his army as that which took place in King\nPicrochole and his troops when they first heard the Friar's cry. The\nguns dropped from their hands, and all they could do was to turn with\nwhite faces and staring eyes towards the opening in the wood.\n\nThen appeared a fearful apparition!\n\nIt was that of the Giant, holding, poised as a lance, the trunk of an\nenormous tree stripped bare of its branches; his eyeballs swollen and\nblazing with anger; his legs drawn tight to the saddle, while he gave\nfree rein to his Mare, and dashed with the speed of a cyclone straight\ndown upon them. The Mare seemed as mad as the master, for smoke rolled\nand curled around her wide-open nostrils; she gave short and horrible\nneighs, as if she couldn't get to Picrochole's rogues fast enough; her\nmane was stiff and hard, while her broad tail, streaming like a comet\nbehind her, whisked men right and left, high into the air, and jerked\ndown such trees as were in the way as she swept thundering down the\nhill. So terrible a sight changed the whole field. For a moment or\ntwo the enemy seemed stunned. But, as the dreadful Mare came near and\nnearer, Picrochole's cowardice broke the fearful spell that had come\nupon himself and men. \"It is the Giant!\" he shouted; \"save himself who\ncan!\" and dashed back into the open gates of the city, intending to\nescape, through another gate, into the country beyond. \"_The Mare! the\nMare! Save us from the Mare!_\" was all the poor men, as they tried to\nfollow their king, could gasp.\n\n[Illustration: PICROCHOLE DEFENDS THE CASTLE.]\n\nSome were lucky enough to gain the city-gates. But before Gargantua\ncould rein in his powerful steed, she had bitten and trampled many to\ndeath, to say nothing of those she had swept into the air with her\ngreat tail. Gargantua had good reason to be pleased with his victory.\nIt was a decisive one, and gained by himself alone, and the Mare. He\nrode all over the field, petting the good Mare meanwhile, and never\nceasing to look among the killed for Picrochole. Of every officer that\nreturned from pursuit of those who tried to escape he asked:--\n\n[Illustration: THE DEFEAT OF PICROCHOLE.]\n\n\"Hast thou caught Picrochole?\"\n\nNo, nobody had.\n\n\"With all my heart I am sorry,\" said Gargantua, \"that Picrochole is\nnot here. For I would have made this little king know that it was not\nfor any riches or for my name that this war was made. As he is lost,\nlet the kingdom remain with his son. But, as this child is not yet\nfive years old, he should have governors. Let Ponocrates govern those\ngovernors.\"\n\n[Illustration: THE FLIGHT OF PICROCHOLE.]\n\nThen, under his breath, the Giant muttered:--\n\n\"Ho! a pretty king, this Picrochole, to be lost in battle.\" And a\ngiant's mutter is louder than a small man's shout.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXI.\n\nSHOWING WHAT GARGANTUA DID AFTER THE BATTLE, AND HOW GRANDGOUSIER\nWELCOMED HIM HOME.\n\n\n[Illustration: Initial W.]\n\nWhen Gargantua, after the battle, made his triumphant entrance into the\ncity, it was easy enough for him to find the Palace where Picrochole\nhad stopped, but not quite so easy to get hold of the King himself. And\nwhen he reached the Palace, he heard that those wicked advisers and\ncouncillors of Picrochole, who had done their best to keep mischief\nalive,--Swashbuckler, Durtaille, and Smaltrash,--had all managed to\nescape helter-skelter from the city, just six hours _before_ the battle.\n\nGargantua's first duty was to order a muster of his troops, by which he\nlearned, much to his satisfaction, that they had not suffered greatly\nin the battle, the four soldiers who had been killed happening to\nbelong to the band of one of his officers, Captain Tolmere. He had the\npleasure of shaking his old master Ponocrates by the hand on his lucky\nescape in having his doublet, instead of his portly body, jagged by an\narcher's bolt. It was a mild shake, for a hearty one would have made\na jelly of it. The Chief Treasurer was ordered to see that all his\nbrave followers should be feasted, each with his troop, at the Prince's\nexpense. He directed, moreover, that, after the feast, the army should\nassemble in the great Square before the Palace, and receive a full six\nmonths' pay on the spot.\n\nThis being joyfully done, the next order was for the assembling of\nall that remained of Picrochole's party. All his princes and captains\nbeing present, Gargantua made a speech, which was as full of wisdom\nas it was rich in praise of his good old father, King Grandgousier. He\nconcluded with these words, spoken in a stern voice:--\n\n\"I impose on those who have wickedly attacked us but one condition.\nThey must deliver into my hands that knave Marquet, who was the\ngroundwork of this most unjust war.\"\n\n[Illustration: GARGANTUA'S CAPTIVES.]\n\nMarquet, who had been a great man all during the war, and who had\nstrutted around, crowing and looking wise, and had been consulted, and\npatted on the back, and stroked on the head, ever since his fight with\nForgier, had been silly enough, instead of running away as fast as his\nlegs could take him, to go to the assembly to hear what the Prince had\nto say. The moment Gargantua mentioned his name, quiet, well-to-do\nneighbors, who had all along been vexed at the airs he had put\non,--being on every side of him,--pointed him out with their fingers,\nslily, wickedly whispering, \"You want Marquet,--there he is, that\nman over there!\" The wretch was at once seized by a dozen strong and\nwilling hands, and hauled and hustled about, till, at last, he stood,\nbreathing hard, before Gargantua. The Giant, towering above him,--there\nwas no chair in the Palace large enough for him to sit comfortably\nin,--looked at him for a moment with scorn.\n\n\"So it is thou who art Marquet, art thou?\"\n\n\"Yes, may it please Your Most Gracious, Most Merciful Highness,\" gasped\nMarquet, stuttering horribly, and turning very pale.\n\n\"Gymnaste,\" said Gargantua, \"I make thee responsible for this wretch,\nand his safe delivery to our Headsman for immediate execution.\"\n\nGymnaste, after bowing respectfully, collared Marquet and marched him\noff.\n\nAfter the rogue had been borne away to the block, Gargantua ordered\nthat all who had been killed should be honorably buried in the Black\nSoil Valley. For the wounded, he made ample provision in his Royal\nHospital. To the survivors, he did no other hurt than to put them to\nwork on the printing-presses which he had lately set up. When leaving,\nhe graciously thanked his weather-beaten, if not war-beaten, veterans,\nand sent them to winter-quarters with rich gifts for each one; for,\neven though Picrochole had run away, there was no telling but what the\nBunmakers might make another fight, and so it was thought wiser to\nkeep the army together for a while. But to this rule he made special\nexception of those of his legions who had had the good luck, during the\npursuit, of doing some gallant deed. There were a good many of those\nbrave soldiers who had marched, rank upon rank, after the staff of the\nGiant himself, and had done some brave action upon Picrochole's men,\nwhile their master's great Mare was switching her terrible tail, and\nknocking men down with the right whisk and the left, and driving from\nthe field all who were lucky enough to get out of her way.\n\n[Illustration: REWARDING THE ARMY.]\n\nThe Giant breathed a rumbling sigh of relief at getting through so much\nhard work. \"I start for home at daybreak,\" he said. \"Let my staff and\nthese brave men, worthy of laurels, follow me.\"\n\nThe distance between Roche-Clermaud and the Palace of his father\nwas not so very great; so that, leaving at daybreak the next day,\nGargantua, with his staff and a long line of the brave officers\nand soldiers who had done such good service, following, reached the\nPalace very leisurely by sundown. It was a joyful day when Father\nGrandgousier, who, since Gargantua had left, seated so grandly on his\ngreat Mare, had been all the time praying for his safety, was told by\nthe sentinels at the gate that the Prince, with a large retinue, was\ncoming near. The old man at once hastened, in high glee, as fast as\nhis gouty feet could carry him, to the court-yard, so as to be ready\nto receive his son. The moment Gargantua rode in through the gateway,\nGrandgousier shouted out:--\n\n\"Ho! ho! ho! ho! So thou art there, my boy! Come quickly to thy\nFather's arms!\" Even while he was saying these words he was whispering\naside to Snapsauce, the Very Fattest of the three Very Fat Cooks:--\n\n\"Get up, thou rogue, within two hours, the finest supper that has ever\ngone down mortal throats since the days of my cousin King Ahasuerus! My\nboy has come back a conqueror!\"\n\nGargantua had already leaped down from his Mare and had rushed towards\nhis father. It was truly a meeting of Giants, which the little men\naround could only manage to see by craning their necks in the air.\nAfter embracing, Grandgousier and Gargantua passed up the broad stone\nstairs which led to the main hall. They had not long to wait upon the\nthree Very Fat Cooks, who, by the way, had sent out messengers miles\nand miles along the road by which their young master was to come,\nand had known half a day before Father Grandgousier himself did, the\nvery hour when the Prince would reach the Palace. Cunning Very Fat\nCooks!--they had only to send up the finest supper that had ever been\nseen since the days of King Ahasuerus, which had been all ready to be\nserved long before the King had even thought of ordering it.\n\nEverybody was in good humor, none more so than the jovial old King\nhimself. When the huge table was cleared of all its rich viands and\nits sparkling wines, and the guests were about leaving the hall,\nGrandgousier distributed to each of the deserving soldiers the\nornaments on the sideboard, which, in the mass, weighed eight hundred\nthousand and fourteen golden besants worth in great antique vases,\nrich pots, basins, superb cups, goblets, candlesticks, comfit-boxes,\nand other such golden plate. In addition to this princely gift,\nGrandgousier caused to be counted out from the Royal Coffers, to each\nhero, twelve hundred thousand golden crowns; and, as a further mark\nof his special favor, he directed that to such as he named should be\ngranted, in perpetuity for themselves and their heirs, if they should\nhappen to have any, certain castles and neighboring lands.\n\nTo Master Ponocrates, he gave Roche-Clermaud.\n\nTo Gymnaste, Le Coudray.\n\nTo Eudemon, Montpensier.\n\nAnd so on with the favorites.\n\n\"Ho! ho! my boy!\" suddenly cried Father Grandgousier, tapping his big\nforehead with his mighty finger. \"We have forgotten some one, and him\nour bravest, too!\"\n\n\"Whom?\"\n\n\"Why, our gallant Friar.\"\n\n\"Oh! as for Friar John, trust him to me, Father. _I_ shall take care of\nhim!\"\n\n\"What wilt thou do, my boy?\"\n\n\"What will I do? Why, I shall build for him a Monastery a hundred\ntimes more magnificent than those Convents at Bonnivet, Chambourg, and\nChantilly, that are the boast of the world. Our Friar shall be the\nAbbot of Theleme and he will make a famous Abbot, too!\"\n\n[Illustration: THE WONDERFUL WINDING STAIRWAY.]\n\nAnd so Gargantua built for his friend Friar John a Monastery greater\nthan the Convent at Bonnivet, and the Convent at Chambourg, and\nthe Convent at Chantilly; for his had nine thousand, three hundred\nand thirty-two chambers. But its greatest beauty, after all, was\na wonderful winding stairway, up which six men-at-arms might ride\nabreast, with their six lances at rest, to the very top of the Abbey.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXII.\n\nGRANDGOUSIER'S DEATH.--GARGANTUA'S MARRIAGE.--PANTAGRUEL IS BORN.\n\n\n[Illustration: Initial A.]\n\nAfter the war of the Bunmakers, all the kings and princes and nobles,\nfor hundreds of miles around, came to congratulate the two mighty\nGiants. It was a time of royal feasting, and the Palace smelt more\nstrongly of old, rich, dead dinners and suppers than ever before. For\na whole year, its walls rang with laughter and joyous shouts, and then\nthe kings and princes, nobles and friends, took to horse and returned\nto their homes, leaving Grandgousier and Gargantua in peace, with the\nlove of all their subjects and the respect of their neighbors, for many\nhappy years, over which there was but one cloud, the death of the kind\nold Queen Gargamelle. During all these years, more than I can now tell,\nGrandgousier was, of course, getting old, and at last grew so weak that\nhe was forced to take to his bed.\n\n\"Gargantua, my boy, thou art already getting on in years,\" the old man\nsaid one day, after a fit of weakness, when he felt that he could not\nlong live. \"Why dost thou not marry, my son?\"\n\n\"To tell the truth, Father, I have never once thought of marrying. Thou\nhast been so good to me that thou hast driven all thoughts of women\naway from me. Yet, if thou sayest the word, then shall I seek a wife.\"\n\n\"Seek, then, my boy, the Princess Badebec, the beautiful daughter of my\ngood friend, the King of the Amaurotes, in Utopia. Make her thy wife\nif thou lovest thy Father. And thy Father's blessing will be on thee\nforever!\" The good old King had scarcely whispered the last word when\nhe feebly placed his hand on the head of Gargantua, who was kneeling by\nthe bed. Then he stretched out to his full giant-length, gave a deep\nsigh of content, and died.\n\nGargantua was then at an age which would, in our day, be looked upon as\nquite venerable. He was just five hundred and twenty-one years old on\nthe day when he buried his Father. He mourned him two years to the very\nmonth, day, hour, and minute. At the end of the last year, he charged\nhis Prime Minister with a solemn proposal of marriage to the charming\nPrincess Badebec. None so lovely as the Princess Badebec had, up to\nthat time, ever been seen outside of Utopia.\n\nGargantua was five hundred and twenty-three years old when his nuptials\nwith the Princess were celebrated in great state, and he had just\nturned his five hundred and twenty-fifth year, when he had at once the\ngreat joy of hearing that he had a son, and the deep sorrow of losing\nhis dear wife, the lovely Queen Badebec herself.\n\nThe babe first saw the light at a time when there was such a drought\nover the whole land that there had been no rain for three years, three\nweeks, four days, and thirteen hours. But to understand clearly the\nreason why the little fellow was christened PANTAGRUEL, it should be\nsaid that, during the awful drought, the sun glared down so fiercely on\nthe baked earth that all the country around became barren. Never had\nthere been felt such heat as then. There was not to be found a tree on\nwhich a leaf or flower could be coaxed to grow; the grass was sickly\nand yellow; the rivers seemed to vie the one with the other in laying\nbare their sandy beds; the fountains ran dry; the poor fish, with no\nwater to keep them alive, floundered gasping in the muddy sand, until\nthey died; the birds, little and big, some giving the shrillest of\ndespairing shrieks, others the most plaintive of dying twitterings,\nall dropped dead in mid-air for very want of dew; and wolves, foxes,\nstags, wild boars, deer, hares, rabbits, weasels, and such other beasts\nas were unfortunate enough to roam about the forests, were to be found\nstiff in the fields, by the side of streams long dried up, and of\nfountains which no longer ran, with their red and swollen throats and\nmouths gaping wide open.\n\n[Illustration: THE DREADFUL DROUGHT.]\n\nBut it was, after all, the poor men and women who were to be most\npitied during all this awful time. They were to be found everywhere,\nwith their tongues hanging out like those of hares which have run\nbefore the hounds for hours. The hot glare of the sun, and the\nhorrible thirst, turned these poor people half-crazy. Some would throw\nthemselves into wells, hoping to find water in their dark depths.\n\nOthers would creep under the bellies of such cows as were still living,\ndeclaring, with a sickly smile, they were going there to get into the\nshade. Of course everybody flocked to the churches; people always do in\na time of great trouble. It was really pitiful to see the eager way the\nworshippers rushed to the font where the holy water was kept. But to\nthink that in doing so they only wanted to dip their fingers reverently\ninto the blessed water, and to cross themselves piously, would be far\nfrom the truth. What each worshipper went to the church for was only to\nsee if he couldn't scoop all the holy water in the font into a pitcher\nhe kept under his cloak, as a drink for himself and his family, who\nhad squeezed in as near after him as they could. It was a fight every\nday between the priests and such selfish church-goers; but the priests\nalways got the better in the fight, as was right, since the holy water\nwas meant for the comfort of penitent sinners, who sought the Church\nfor humble worship, not for the use of thirsty sinners, who only came\nthere to quarrel and steal.\n\nIt was towards the close of this awful parching time, when the people\nwere most thirsty, and the deepest wells were empty, and the brightest\nfountains had run dry, and all the birds of the air and all the forest\nbeasts were dead, and there was a general cry everywhere of \"We are\ndying of thirst! water! water!\" that Gargantua's baby PANTAGRUEL was\nborn.\n\nThis was a very good name, for it was given on account of this dry\ntime. Gargantua had, while in Paris, studied only a little Greek,\nwhile he had studied much Latin, under Master Ponocrates. He chose,\ntherefore, from the Greek language one-half of the name for his son,\nviz.: PANTA, which is the Greek for _all_, and the other half GRUEL,\nwhich is an Arabian word, meaning _thirsty_. Therefore, baby PANTAGRUEL\nwas only another name for baby _All-Thirsty_; and he well deserved the\nname, since it was soon found that nobody could come near the young\nPrince without feeling thirsty.\n\nIt matters not how Pantagruel got his name. He was the same kind of\nbaby that his father had been before him, and was pronounced by all\nto be a marvellous young Giant, indeed. The Wise Women took charge of\nhim upon his birth, and after washing and dressing him, while gravely\nwagging their old gray heads, with their skinny fingers to their noses,\nmuttered darkly, the one to the other:--\n\n\"Our young Prince is born all hairy like a bear! He will do wonderful\nthings, and, if he lives, he will surely reach old age!\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIII.\n\nTHE STRANGE THINGS PANTAGRUEL DID AS A BABY.\n\n\n[Illustration: Initial G.]\n\nGargantua hardly knew whether he ought to cry because his beloved Queen\nBadebec was dead, or laugh because his son Pantagruel was alive.\n\n\"My good wife is dead, who was the most _this_ and the most _that_,\nwhich ever was in the world,\" he would blubber at one time. \"Ha!\nBadebec, my wife, I shall never see thee again! Thou hast left me, my\npet, forever! Ah! my poor Pantagruel, thou hast lost thy good Mother,\nthy sweet nurse. _Holos!_\"\n\nThe poor Giant burst into tears, which flowed down his cheeks as large\nas ostrich-eggs, and he cried like a cow. Then his humor would change,\nand he fell to laughing like a calf.\n\n\"Ho! ho! my little son, how pretty thou art, and how grateful I should\nbe to God that he has given me such a son. Ho! ho! ho! how glad I am!\nLet us drink! Throw melancholy out of the window; bring here the best\nwines; rinse the glasses; lay the cloth; drive away the dogs; blow up\nthat fire; light the candles; shut the door; skim the soup; call in the\nbeggars, and give them what they want! I ought to be happy,--I _am_\nhappy. Ho! ho! ho!\"\n\nPoor old Giant! He was very proud, but he was very wretched all the\nsame.\n\n[Illustration: THE FUNERAL OF QUEEN BADEBEC.]\n\nIt would be a wonderful thing to tell how quickly Pantagruel grew in\nbody and in strength. All the old-world talk about \"Hercules in his\ncradle killing the two serpents\" was nothing to boast of, because _his_\nsnakes happened to be both small and weak. But Pantagruel, in his\ncradle, did things much more astonishing. Just think of his needing,\nas a baby, at every meal, the milk of four thousand six hundred cows!\nWhen it became necessary to order a kettle for him in which to boil his\nmilk it took all the braziers of Saumure, in Anjou; of Villedieu, in\nNormandy; of Bramart, in Lorraine, to make it. They used to give him\nsoup in a great bell, which was long to be seen at Bruges, in Berry,\nnear the Palace, with a hole in it. How did that hole ever get there?\nWhy, in the easiest way possible! Baby Pantagruel's teeth were already\nso big, and sharp, and strong, that, in his eagerness to get at the\nbroth, he made a quick snap at the metal and broke through it, as\nthough it were as flimsy as an egg-shell.\n\n[Illustration: PANTAGRUEL'S PORRINGER.]\n\nAnother morning, at daybreak, when one of the four thousand six hundred\ncows, which gave him his principal food, was brought in to give him his\nbreakfast, Pantagruel burst the bands which bound his arms, and caught\nhold of that poor cow to eat her alive; and he would have, without\ndoubt, eaten her all up if she hadn't bellowed as loudly as though a\npack of wolves were just at that moment striking their teeth in her\nlegs. At the poor cow's cries, everybody ran up and released her from\nthe Giant baby's awful teeth. Such an offence as trying to eat alive\nan innocent cow, which had done her best, among her four thousand five\nhundred and ninety-nine companions, to give him milk, could not pass\nunnoticed. Gargantua, although, away down in his own heart, he was\nproud of his little son's strength, grew very much afraid that, in some\nof his antics, he might hurt himself. He at once ordered Pantagruel\nto be bound to the cradle with great cables, and directed that, on no\naccount, he should be allowed to get free from them. Here, then, was\nour poor Pantagruel in a bad fix! Baby as he was, he often felt very\nwretched; but never more wretched than when a great, shaggy bear, which\nwas a special pet of his father, made it a point of politeness to drop\nin every day and, with his dirty tongue, to lick his face, which, on\nthe other hand, the Wise Women made a point never to touch. That bear\ncame once too often. Pantagruel, being in a bad humor one particular\nday, and feeling the rough, furred tongue licking all over and over\nhis face, gave one tremendous jerk, and broke his chains as easily as\nSamson had broken those of the Philistines. Then he stretched out his\nhairy hands, and caught Master Bear, and tore him into pieces with as\nmuch ease as he might have done a chicken.\n\nThis new exploit made Gargantua still prouder of his son; but it was\nhigh time that something should be done with him. So he ordered to\nbe made four great iron chains to hold him fast. One day a feast was\ngiven by King Gargantua in honor of the princes and nobles of his\nCourt. It is pretty clear that all the great people, not to speak of\nthe servants, had their time so well taken with the feast, that nobody\never thought it his business to bother himself about the little Prince,\naway upstairs in the nursery. If Pantagruel hated any one thing above\nanother, that one thing was to be left by himself. What made it all the\nworse this time was that there he was in his cradle, closely chained,\nand obliged to listen to the gay sounds that swelled up, every now\nand then, from the dining-room. The poor child felt lonely. He tried\nto burst the chains which bound his arms to his cradle; but that he\ncouldn't do, because they had been forged too strong and stout by the\nRoyal Blacksmith. Then he began such a stamping with his feet that he\nbroke the foot-board of his cradle, which was made of a great beam\nseven feet square. The moment he had succeeded in getting his feet\nquite out of the broken end, he slid forward as far as the chains would\nlet him, until at last his feet touched the floor. Then, with a great\nwrench, he raised himself on his feet, bearing his cradle triumphantly\non his back, which made him look for all the world like a turtle, with\nhis shell, trying to climb a wall.\n\nSuch was the strange sight which, on presenting itself in the\nBanqueting Hall, startled the gay company. Pantagruel walked straight\nto the table, where he at first thought he would need no assistance;\nbut he soon found himself obliged--not being, of course, able to use\nhis hands--to lean forward, and lick up with his tongue any tidbit\nthat he could find near the edge of the table. When his father saw how\nhungry he was, he knew well enough that his baby never would have\nbroken through his cradle, and tramped down the stairs with it on his\nback, unless he had been left alone by his nurses. Turning to the\nprinces and lords present, he asked them if it was not better that his\nboy should be freed from those heavy chains.\n\nThe guests, with one voice, declared that the chains were an insult to\nthe young Prince; and even the First Physician gave it as his opinion\nthat, if Pantagruel were to be kept any longer fastened in such a way\nto his cradle, he would all his life be a cripple.\n\n[Illustration: PANTAGRUEL CARRIES HIS CRADLE.]\n\nThe moment he was unchained Pantagruel sat down at the table, and was\nmade much of by every guest. Such a welcome soon made him feel quite\nat home, and he showed it by breaking, with one blow of his fist, that\nugly cradle into more than five hundred thousand pieces, vowing to\nhimself--he couldn't well say the words--that he would never be found\nin it again--never! never! never!\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIV.\n\nAFTER STUDYING AT SEVERAL UNIVERSITIES PANTAGRUEL GOES TO PARIS.\n\n\n[Illustration: Initial S.]\n\nPantagruel grew, from day to day, in health, and stature, and strength,\nwhich, of course, gave great delight to his father. Gargantua ordered\nto be made for his son, while he was still small, a cross-bow, with\nwhich he could make himself merry in shooting at the little birds,\nand which is kept to this day, and is known as the great Cross-Bow of\nChantelle. It was not long after this that Pantagruel was sent off to\nschool at Poitiers, under the charge of his tutor Epistemon, where he\nshowed himself a diligent scholar.\n\n[Illustration: THE GREAT CROSS-BOW OF CHANTELLE.]\n\nJust before they left, while his son was getting into the saddle, good\nFather Gargantua had taken Epistemon on his arm for a few words of\nprivate talk. All he said, in a solemn whisper, was: \"Teach my boy,\nfirst of all, Greek; secondly, Latin. My father cared for nothing so\nmuch as Latin. If I knew Greek half so well as I know my Latin, I\nshould be happy.\"\n\n[Illustration: THE GREAT RAISED STONE.]\n\nHaving noticed that the students of Poitiers had often so much time\non their hands that they did not know how to get rid of it, and being\na good-hearted young Giant, Pantagruel thought he would take pity on\nthem and devise some plan to help them. So, one fine day, he tore\nfrom a great ledge of rocks, which the people of the town called\nPasselourdin, a large stone, about twelve fathoms square, and carried\nit in his strong arms with the greatest ease to four pillars which\nthen stood in the middle of a field, upon which, by sheer force, he\nplaced the stone. None of the young students had the slightest idea\nwhy the Giant of whom they were so proud had robbed big Passelourdin,\nbut it was not long before they began to do precisely what Pantagruel\nhad thought they would do. Whenever they had nothing else to think\nabout--which, by the way, happened the greater part of every day--they\nwould fill up the time by climbing up to the stone, bearing with them\nflagons of wine and hams and pies, upon which they feasted with loud\nshouts of laughter, each one being sure to wind up his first day's fun\nby cutting his name deep into the surface of the stone. By and by, it\nbegan to be talked about as the \"Raised Stone.\" And, for a long time,\nno student was allowed to graduate at the University of Poitiers unless\nhe had first solemnly sworn that he had drunk in the magical Fountain\nof Croustelles, had taken a walk to Passelourdin, and had from there\nclimbed to the top of the \"Raised Stone.\"\n\n[Illustration: PANTAGRUEL VISITS HIS ANCESTOR'S TOMB.]\n\nWhile the students were making merry over their new game, Pantagruel\nwas poring harder than ever over dusty old tomes in the Library of\nthe University. One day, while he was reading the fine chronicles of\nhis ancestors, he happened to turn over the page which told him of\nthe famous Giant Jeffrey of Lusignan, nicknamed \"Jeffrey of the Great\nTooth,\" who was buried at Maillezais, near by. What should Pantagruel\ndo but choose a play-day to pay his respects to the sepulchre of\nthe old Giant! Taking some friends along with him he soon reached\nMaillezais. All the way to the tomb he had been thinking of nothing\nbut how he would do it honor; but, when he got there, his eyes seemed\nglued to a picture of his big-toothed ancestor, which was hanging on\nthe wall. It wasn't a cheerful portrait, I must say, for it made old\nJeffrey of the Great Tooth look like a man in an awful fury and with a\nhorrible toothache, half-drawing his great malchus out of its scabbard.\nThe moment Pantagruel saw this, he grew half afraid and half angry.\nPointing sternly to the picture, he said:--\n\n\"He has not been painted in this way without cause. See how his eyes\nglare, and how his great tooth seems to come out in pain. Why should he\ndraw his malchus? I suspect that, at his death, some wrong was done to\nhim which he looks to his kindred to avenge. I shall look deeper into\nthis matter, and do what I shall think to be right.\"\n\n[Illustration: PANTAGRUEL SETTLES AT ORLEANS.]\n\nAfter having done a good turn for his fellow-students at Poitiers,\nPantagruel resolved to visit the other Universities of France. He did\nnot like Bordeaux very much, so he soon went to Toulouse. Here he\nlearned to dance and to use the two-handed sword,--a special exercise\nwith the students of that University. But he decided he wouldn't stay\nany longer at Toulouse after he had occasion to see how the students\nhad sometimes a little trick of their own of roasting their regents\nalive, like so many red herrings. So he strode off to Montpellier,\nwhere he met pleasant company, and began to think, one day, that he\nought to study Medicine, and the next, that the Law was, after all, the\nonly thing for him; but he soon grew tired of all this and, journeying\nfrom university to university, at last settled himself after a time at\nOrleans. Here he was made welcome with joyous shouts and much respect;\nand, as the students were none too fond of their books, Pantagruel\ntook great pains to become a master at tennis,--the favorite game of\nthe city. After several years passed at Orleans, he consulted with\nEpistemon about going to the great University of Paris. It was a\nglorious day for him--and I dare say the sober teacher himself, under\nall his wise look, was just as pleased as his pupil--when the journey\nwas at last decided on. But, before leaving, the Giant was told that\nan enormous bell, belonging to the City of Orleans, had been lying\nunder the ground at Saint Aignan for more than two hundred and fourteen\nyears, as it was so big and heavy that no engine--much less, men--could\nbe found strong enough to move it from its place. The fact is, the\ngood people of Orleans, having heard that the Giant was thinking of\nleaving them for good, came before him, humbly praying him, before his\ndeparture, to bring that great bell to the tower which had been waiting\never so many years for it. Pantagruel, with his usual kindness, went to\nthe spot where the bell was, and lifted it as easily as if it had been\na hawk's bell. As he was quite sure of his own strength, Pantagruel\nthought that, before carrying the bell to the belfry, he would take\na stroll about the city with it in his hands, making it ring in the\nstreets and by-ways. Of course everybody in Orleans--man, woman, boy,\ngirl; even the babies, who didn't know what they were smiling at, but\nshowed their little white teeth and dimpling cheeks all the same--were\nall out, crowding the streets and jostling in the by-ways. But\nhere, while our Pantagruel was amusing himself and while the ringing\nwas sounding through the city, there came a terrible misfortune, of\nwhich nobody had the slightest idea at the time. It was only found\nout at night, when the simple people wanted to drink in honor of the\ngreat event, that all the good wine of Orleans had of a sudden curdled\nand turned sour. It was the awful strokes of that tremendous bell in\nPantagruel's hand, as he tramped up and down the streets, which had\ncurdled the Orleans wine, and made the honest people who drank it spit\nas white as cotton, crying out: \"We have caught the Pantagruel, and our\nvery throats are salted.\"\n\n[Illustration: PANTAGRUEL ENTERS PARIS.]\n\nAfter this exploit Pantagruel, with Epistemon, and his valet Carpalim,\nwas very glad to start for Paris. On entering that city, all the people\nstretched their heads out of the windows to see him pass; peering down\nat his feet as he tramped through the streets, and then, with their\nmouths wide open, craning their necks to see how high in the clouds his\nhead might be. They were just a little afraid, in their curiosity, that\ntheir visitor might take up their King's Palace and stalk away with\nit, as his father Gargantua, whom every old woman had seen and of whom\nevery child had heard, had carried away, years and years before, the\nBells of _N\u00f4tre D\u00e2me_ to hang them around his Mare's neck.\n\n\"Clear enough, this young Giant is the old Giant's son,\" the gossips\nwhispered to each other.\n\n[Illustration: PANTAGRUEL IN THE LIBRARY.]\n\nWhile in Paris, Pantagruel--as was the fashion for young men to\ndo--went one day to see the world-famous Victor Library. There he found\nbooks with high titles on the covers, and no sense between them. One\nlook at the shelves of the Victor Library was enough for the Prince.\n\nAfter a few months passed in Paris--studying and gaining great stores\nof knowledge all the time,--Pantagruel, in reply to one who asked him\nwhat he thought of the city, answered drily, that while \"_Paris was a\nvery good place to live in, it was a very bad place to die in._\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXV.\n\nPANTAGRUEL FINDS PANURGE, WHOM HE LOVES ALL HIS LIFE.\n\n\n[Illustration: Initial O.]\n\nOne day Pantagruel was strolling outside the city-walls towards the\nAbbey St. Antoine. While engaged in philosophical talk with his own\npeople, and several students besides, he happened to see, coming along\nthe road, a young man of fine height and handsome presence, who looked\nso bloody and so woebegone, and whose clothes hung around him in such\ntatters and rags, that he seemed to have barely escaped with his\nlife from a pack of mad dogs. As soon as his eyes fell upon the man,\nPantagruel said to his attendants:--\n\n\"Do you see that man yonder, coming from Charanton Bridge? By my faith,\nhe is poor only in fortune. As far as I can judge by his features,\nNature has given that man a rich and noble lineage.\"\n\nWhen the stranger had come up to them, Pantagruel said to him: \"My good\nfriend, I beg you to stop a moment, and answer a few questions which I\nam about to ask you. You will not repent it if you do so, as I feel a\nstrange desire to aid you in the distress in which I see you, for you\nexcite my pity. Before all, my friend, tell me who you are? Where do\nyou come from? What do you seek? And what is your name?\"\n\nThe stranger then answered him:--\n\nIn German--\n\nTo which Pantagruel, not knowing a single word, replied:--\n\n\"My friend, I don't quite understand this gibberish. If you want us to\nget at your meaning, speak to us in another language.\"\n\nThen the stranger spoke:--\n\nIn Arabic--\n\n\"Ha! Do you know what he is saying, Master?\" cried Pantagruel to\nEpistemon.\n\nEpistemon's answer was a shake of the head.\n\nThen in Italian--\n\nTo which Master Epistemon only said: \"As much of one as of the other,\nand nothing of either.\"\n\nThen the solitary wanderer spoke:--\n\nIn English--\n\nWhat he said in a very strange English was: \"Lord, if you be so\nvertuous of intelligence, as you be naturally releaved to the body,\nyou should have pity of me; for nature hath made us equal, but fortune\nhath some exalted, and others deprived; nevertheless is vertue often\ndeprived, and the vertuous men despised; for before the last end none\nis good.\"\n\n\"Ho! still less,\" cried poor Pantagruel.\n\nThen the Basque--\n\nCarpalim, Pantagruel's valet, thought he caught something familiar\nhere, but the stranger went on as if nothing had been said.\n\nIn a rattling unknown language--\n\n\"Do you speak a Christian tongue, my friend, or do you make your lingo\nas you go along?\" asked Epistemon, who was beginning to get rather\ntired.\n\nThen in Dutch--\n\n\"Quite as bad as the others!\" muttered Pantagruel under his breath.\n\nThen in Spanish--\n\n\"See here, my friend,\" retorted Pantagruel, who in his turn was getting\ntired, \"I have not the slightest doubt that you are master of various\nlanguages. But all I ask is that you should tell us what you want to\nsay in some tongue which we can understand.\"\n\nThen in Danish--\n\n\"I think,\" said Eusthenes, \"the old Goths must have spoken that way.\"\n\nThen in a sonorous tongue--\n\nHere Master Epistemon thought it right to say: \"This time I have caught\nhis meaning. What he has just said is in the old Hebrew, rhetorically\npronounced.\"\n\nThen in Greek--\n\n\"Oh! That's Greek. I know it. How long didst thou stay in Greece?\"\nasked the valet Carpalim, who had once been in that country.\n\nThe the low Breton tongue--\n\nIt was now Pantagruel's turn to say: \"It seems to me that I understand\nwhat you are trying to say; for it is the tongue of my own country, of\nUtopia, or something very like it.\"\n\n[Illustration: PANTAGRUEL MEETS PANURGE.]\n\nBut, just as he was beginning to say something more, the stranger broke\nout again:--\n\nIn the Latin language--\n\n\"That's all very well, my friend, but _can't you speak French?_\"\n\n\"Certainly, and very well, too, an it please you, my lord,\" answered\nthe man. \"By good luck, the French is at once my natural and maternal\nlanguage. I was born in the garden of France,--fair Toulouse.\"\n\n\"Then you are a Frenchman! Let us know at once what is your name. If\nyou satisfy me in this, you need never wander from my company, and we\nshall be one to the other, as \u00c6neas and Achates.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said the stranger, \"my name in baptism was Panurge. I have just\ncome home from Turkey, where I had the misfortune of being made a\nprisoner in the expedition against Metelin. I have ever so many good\nstories to tell Your Highness, more marvellous than those of Ulysses.\nAs you are gracious enough to promise to keep me among your friends,\nI protest that I shall never leave you. I beg your pardon, my lord, I\nwant one word more. I am desperately hungry, my teeth being very sharp,\nand my throat very dry. A dinner just now would be just as good as a\nbalsam for sore eyes.\"\n\nPantagruel, on hearing these words from the stranger, was delighted.\nHe at once ordered that a full meal should be got ready. This being\nset before him Panurge, who hadn't eaten for two whole days, stuffed\nhimself and went to bed with the roosters, and never woke up until\ndinner-time next day, when he leaped from his bed, and, without so much\nas washing his face, reached the dining-room in three hops and one\njump.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVI.\n\nPANTAGRUEL BEATS THE SORBONNE IN ARGUMENT, AND PANURGE PROVES THAT AN\nENGLISHMAN'S FINGERS ARE NOT SO NIMBLE AS A FRENCHMAN'S.\n\n\n[Illustration: Initial W.]\n\nWhile Pantagruel was at Paris, he was receiving, every now and then,\nletters from his father, which were so kind, and so full of good advice\nto him to improve himself in the Languages, that he had not the heart\nto neglect them, even had he wished. One day, after laughing more than\nusual at one of Panurge's pranks,--and his new friend had turned out\na queer fish indeed,--he thought it was right to see how much he had\nreally learned. The very next day, therefore, at all the crossings of\nthe city he posted, with his own hand, nine thousand seven hundred\nand sixty-four propositions, challenging all the wise men of Paris to\nargue with him, and show where, and in what, and how far, any of his\npropositions was wrong. At so bold a defiance, the wise men of Paris\npuckered their foreheads, opened wide their nostrils, breathed heavily,\nand ended by accepting the challenge. They thought that a Giant's\nstrongest point was his body; but Pantagruel very soon proved to them\nthat he was stronger than all of them, bunched together, in brains.\n\nIt was at the gates of Sorbonne itself--the great University--that\nPantagruel, flushed with victory, next knocked. Sorbonne was not too\nproud to meet the bold Giant from Utopia in a fair combat, not of\nblows, but of words. For six weeks, Pantagruel maintained his theses\nagainst all the theologians, from four o'clock in the morning until\nsix o'clock in the evening, with the exception of two hours allowed\nfor refreshment. The contest made a great noise in the court, and most\nof the lords, masters of requests, presidents, counsellors, bankers,\nsecretaries, lawyers, together with the doctors and professors of the\ngreat city, came to hear the learned talk day after day. Among all\nthese there were, of course, some very headstrong and restive, who must\nneeds take a hand in helping the theologians to puzzle Pantagruel; but,\nat the end, they themselves were routed, the most learned doctors of\nthe Sorbonne along with all the rest.\n\n[Illustration: AT THE GATES OF SORBONNE.]\n\nFrom that time, everybody began to talk about Pantagruel's wonderful\nknowledge,--as, before that, all the talk had been about his monstrous\nsize,--even to the wash-women, roast-meat sellers, pen-knife-makers,\nand others, who, whenever they would catch a sight of him on the\nstreet, would poke each other in the ribs and call out: \"_Oh, look,\nthere he goes!_\" Pantagruel would have been blind if he had not seen\nthese good people nudge one another, and deaf if he had not heard what\nthey were saying. He certainly was very much pleased; but that is not\nat all strange, since Demosthenes, the prince of Greek orators, felt\nthe same when once, in passing along a street in Athens, an old hag\npointed her skinny fingers sharp at him, screaming: \"_That's the man!_\"\n\nSo great did Pantagruel's fame become in Paris that, whenever there was\na law-nut harder to crack than usual, the parties would appeal to him\nto decide between them, and his decisions were always so just that,\nstrange to say, both sides would go away satisfied,--which is a thing\nhard to be believed, since the like is not to be seen for thirteen\nJubilees. His reputation also went abroad, and, in consequence,\nattracted the attention of a wise Englishman named Thaumastes, who came\nall the way from England with the sole intention of seeing Pantagruel,\nand testing for himself if his knowledge was so great as had been told.\nOn reaching Paris, Thaumastes asked where Pantagruel lodged, and, on\nbeing informed, went to the St. Denis Hotel, where he found him walking\nin the garden with Panurge on his arm. When his eyes first fell on the\nGiant, he was almost out of his senses for fear, seeing him so big and\nso tall. At last he managed to pluck up courage enough to salute him\nvery courteously.\n\n\"Very true it is, mighty Sir,\" he said, \"what Plato, prince of\nphilosophers, once declared, that, if the image of Science were\ncorporeal enough to be brought in all her beauty before the eyes of\nmen, she would excite in all the world great wonder. I came disposed to\nwonder; now, seeing, I do more--I admire. Having heard of your renown\nI have left country, home, and kinsmen, and have, in spite of the long\njourney and the hardships of crossing the sea, presented myself here\nwith the sole purpose of seeing you, and consulting you upon some\npassages of Philosophy in which I believe, and yet cannot be sure, that\nI am right. If you will only deign to solve my doubts, I hereby declare\nmyself your slave. But I beg to make plain one point, and that is, that\nI wish to dispute through signs only, without speaking. I shall be\nfound, if it suits Your Magnificence, in the great hall of Navarre, at\nseven o'clock to-morrow morning.\"\n\n[Illustration: THAUMASTES VISITS PANTAGRUEL.]\n\nPantagruel, although by no means sure that he knew how to argue with\nhis fingers, replied with his usual grace to the courteous Englishman,\npaying him many compliments for his design of carrying on a great\ndisputation by signs only. After which, Thaumastes, who, by the way,\nhad not quite got over his fear of the Giant, went straight to the\nCluny Hotel, where he lodged, declaring when he reached there that he\nhad never felt so thirsty in all his life. He swore to the landlord\nthat he thought that terrible Pantagruel was even then clutching him\nby his throat--so very dry and ready to choke he was.\n\nOn his side, too, Pantagruel was grievously disturbed. He did nothing\nin the first part of his sleep, that night, but dream about books with\nhard Latin titles, and visions of phantom hands hovering in the air\naround his head, and making passes under his very nose. All he could do\nwas to turn and twist, and twist and turn again, in his bed, and groan,\nso dolefully, that Panurge, rudely wakened from his first nap, ventured\nto come into the room.\n\n\"My lord,\" he said, as he approached the bed, \"don't trouble yourself\nabout this matter. Turn on your right side like a good Christian,\nand go to sleep. With your permission, I shall answer Mr. Englishman\nto-morrow. By my faith! I never yet saw an Englishman who knew what to\ndo with his fingers!\"\n\nPantagruel was, of course, delighted to hear this. He knew how sharp\nPanurge was, and how far he could go beyond other men. But somehow he\nstill had his misgivings; and so he turned his big body around for the\nlast time and went to sleep, only to be haunted all night long by Latin\nbooks with hard names, and a plague of mocking fingers making signs\nunder his nose.\n\n[Illustration: THE GREAT COLLEGE WAS PACKED.]\n\nThe next morning, the great College of Navarre was packed with people\nto hear the famous dispute between the Giant and the Englishman.\n\nAs soon as Pantagruel and Panurge reached the hall, all the professors\nand students began, as was their custom, to clap with their hands.\nBut Pantagruel shouted out at the top of his voice, which sounded as\nif a double cannon had been of a sudden shot off: \"Peace, all! If you\ntrouble me here, I shall cut off the heads of every one of you.\" At\nthis terrible threat, the crowd stood amazed, and did not dare even\ncough. The fact is, they grew so thirsty, all of a sudden, that their\ntongues dropped out from their throats as if Pantagruel, instead of\nstepping on the platform, had gone from one to the other salting them\nall.\n\nWhen everything was quiet, Panurge stepped forward with a pleasant\nsmile, and addressed the Englishman in these words:--\n\n\"I am only an insignificant pupil of my royal master, Prince\nPantagruel, whose reputation, here and elsewhere, is so noble and so\nexalted; but I swear that I shall convince thee that, in all signs made\nin the sacred name of Science, I am thy master, and can give thee all\nthe lessons thou mayst need.\"\n\n\"Is that so?\" cried Thaumastes; \"then, let us begin!\"\n\nIt was a battle of signs, as we know already, not of words. The\nEnglishman made the first sign.\n\n[Illustration: THE DISPUTATION.]\n\nSome people thought at the time that Panurge, in his answer, showed\nrather too plainly the low opinion he had of his learned antagonist's\nskill in finger-moving. He suddenly raised his right hand in air,\nthen put the thumb inside of his right nostril while keeping the four\nfingers stretched out, but close together in a line parallel with\nthe tip of his nose--meanwhile closing the left eye completely, and\ndepressing the right eye. Then he raised on high his left hand, with\nclose pressing and extension of the four fingers and elevation of the\nthumb, holding his left hand in a straight line with his right, with\nabout a cubit and a half between them.\n\nThe Englishman answered, without seeming to understand this sign of\nPanurge.\n\nThen Panurge replied.\n\nThen the Englishman.\n\nThen Panurge.\n\n[Illustration: PANURGE REPLIES.]\n\nThen both made, one after the other, and with the greatest rapidity,\nthe neatest, the most skilful, the most beautiful, the most dazzling,\nthe most speaking, so to say, signs, all in the name of Science, but\nall so much in favor of Panurge, with the little talking devil there\nis in French fingers, that Thaumastes became so confounded that he\nbegan to blow like a goose, and finally gave up the fight. But the\nEnglishman, when he had been beaten, was honest enough to say so.\nRising from his seat, while gallantly taking off his cap, he thanked\nPanurge in a low tone. Then, with a loud voice, he addressed the\nlearned assembly:--\n\n\"My lords, at this time, I can surely say that you have an incomparable\ntreasure in your presence. I refer to my Lord Pantagruel, whose fame\nalone brought me here from the other end of England. But you can better\njudge how learned the master must be since I find so much skill in his\npupil, for I have always heard that the scholar is never above the\nmaster.\"\n\nIt is said that the Englishman, after his defeat, was well and\nhonorably treated by Pantagruel. It was also whispered that Thaumastes,\non his return to England, caused to be printed in London a book which\ncontained all the signs and the meanings of the Great Disputation, but\nof which, strange to say, no copy has reached this day.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVII.\n\nWHAT SORT OF MAN PANURGE WAS, AND THE MANY TRICKS HE KNEW.\n\n\n[Illustration: Initial T.]\n\nThe new friend and attendant of Pantagruel was, as has already been\nseen, a man of good presence, neither too tall nor too short. His nose\nwas a fine aquiline, so fine and sharp, indeed, that its curve was said\nby even his best friends to look for all the world like the blade of a\nrazor. He was thirty-five years old, or thereabout, and was the gayest,\nmaddest, most reckless roisterer that gay, mad, reckless, roistering\nParis had ever welcomed within her walls. His purse never knew what\nit was to be full. For, although he had, as he was fond of boasting,\nas many as sixty-three different ways of getting money, he always had\ntwo hundred and fourteen different ways of spending it. The fact is,\nPanurge had as many cunning ways as a monkey, and could have taught\nthe wisest and grayest old monkey in the forest tricks of which he, in\nhis simplicity, had never once dreamed. He made it a point never to go\nabroad without having a flask of good wine and a fat, juicy slice of\nbacon hidden away under his gown, saying, \"These are my body-guard.\nI have no other sword.\" But if he had one special weakness, it was\nthe bitter hatred he bore against the sergeants and the city-watch of\nParis. Of course, these little eccentricities all came out in time, and\nso became gradually known to Pantagruel, who often frowned on them, but\ncould not, for the life of him, each time he heard of a new prank, help\nshaking the houses within a mile around, with the rumble of his hearty\nlaughter.\n\n[Illustration: PANURGE GETS MONEY.]\n\nIt was one favorite custom of Panurge to gather three or four good\nfellows, and make them drink like Templars toward nightfall, when he\nwould lead them to the high ground just above the church St. Genevieve,\nor near the college of Navarre, about the hour the city-watch were\ntaking their rounds on the low ground below. He could always make sure\nof the hour of the guard by laying a sword down on the pavement, with\nhis ear very close to it; and when he would hear the sword hum, he knew\nthat the watch were coming. As soon as he had made sure of that, he and\nhis companion would begin to push one of the dirt-carts, always about\nthere, with all their strength, into the hollow, where it would come\ntumbling down on the unhappy watch, who, by that time, had just reached\nthe spot, setting them to rolling and knocking about in the dust like\nso many swine. Of course, the party would then scamper off in a hurry,\nas Panurge--who, besides having a mortal dread of blows, was a born\ncoward--had, after two days, learned to know every street, crossing,\nlane, and alley in Paris.\n\n[Illustration: PANURGE AND THE DIRT-CARTS.]\n\nAnother time he would drop along some good, level place where the watch\nwere obliged to pass, a long train of powder, and, then, after finding\na safe hiding-place, when they had come, he would fire the train at\nhis end, laugh a loud laugh while he watched their antics in scurrying\naway, thinking all the time that good St. Anthony was tugging away at\ntheir legs.\n\nNow, Panurge was a very wise man, but, in spite of all his learning,\nhe dearly loved to plague those whom he ought certainly to have\nmost respected,--I mean the Masters of Arts and the students of the\nUniversities. Whenever he would meet one of these on the street, he\nwas sure to do him some mischief, such as pinning to his back little\nfox-tails, hare's ears, or some such roguery.\n\n[Illustration: PANURGE'S FUN.]\n\nAnother great delight of Panurge was keeping a whip under his gown,\nwith which he used to lash, until his very arm ached, such pages as he\nfound carrying wine to their masters. He used to say it was to make\nthem go faster, and he was sure their masters would thank him for it.\n\nAnother was to carry in his coat more than twenty-and-six little fobs\nand pockets, which were always full,--one of a little lead-water;\nanother of a little blade sharpened like a glover's needle, with which,\nI am ashamed to say, Panurge used to cut purses; another of some bitter\nstuff, which he used to throw in the eyes of everybody he met; and\nstill others of a mixture which he would throw upon the dresses and\nbonnets of good people, walking peaceably and soberly in the streets.\n\nAnother trick was slily to fasten people together by little hooks,\nwhich he always kept in his pocket, and to laugh till he grew black in\nthe face, on seeing how, in trying to get loose, they only tore their\nclothes to rags.\n\nAnother was to provide himself with two or three looking-glasses, and,\nby shifting them here and there in his hand from a distance, throw the\nfierce light straight into the eyes of men and women, who would get\nhalf-crazy trying to find out where their sudden blindness came from.\n\nStill another trick--and this was a very mean one--he used to play\nwith a small vial filled with the oldest and most rancid oil he could\nfind. Whenever he met a woman dressed as fine as a peacock, he would\ncome up, saying: \"Why, here's a fine cloth, or a fine satin, or a fine\ntaffety,\" as the case might be. \"Madam, may Heaven grant you whatever\nyour noble heart might wish for! You have there a new dress. Heaven\nkeep it long for you, fair dame!\" While the rogue was saying all these\nfine words, he would, of course, be placing his hand on the collar or\nthe shoulder of the lady, and smearing it all over with his vile oil,\nand leaving a spot which could never be scrubbed out. Then he would\nmake his prettiest bow, and smile his sweetest smile, saying: \"My dear\nMadam, let me beg you to be very careful about here, because there is a\nlarge and muddy hole just before you, and you might soil your beautiful\ndress.\"\n\nAt another time he would carry a box filled with a well-powdered\nsneezing-gum, into which he would put a handsome broidered handkerchief\nthat he had stolen on the way from a pretty seamstress of the Palace.\nHe would go looking about for some fine ladies, and whenever he would\nmeet them, with a great show of reverence, he would take out his\nscented handkerchief, and, on pretence of showing its beauty, flirt it\nquickly before their noses, at which the fine ladies would sneeze for\nfour hours without stopping.\n\nThen Panurge would make a lower and more respectful bow than ever, and\ngo away to the nearest corner to have a quiet laugh by himself.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVIII.\n\nSHOWING WHY THE LEAGUES ARE SO MUCH SHORTER IN FRANCE THAN IN GERMANY.\n\n\n[Illustration: Initial A.]\n\nA short time after the famous dispute, Pantagruel heard two very\nstartling bits of news. One was that his father Gargantua had been\ntransported to the country of the Fairies by Morgan, in the same way\nthat she had already carried off Ogier the Dane and King Arthur. The\nother was that, on hearing of this, and taking advantage of it, the\nDipsodes, or Thirsty people, Gargantua's neighbors, had swarmed from\ntheir fortresses and ravaged a large part of Utopia, and were even then\nbesieging the chief city of the Amaurotes. When Pantagruel heard this\nbad news he boiled with rage. He left Paris without a word of good-by\nto anybody, for the affair called for speed. He was accompanied only\nby his special train, which included his master Epistemon, Panurge,\nEusthenes, and Carpalim. From Paris he went to Rouen. While on the\nroad, Pantagruel noticed that the French leagues were very short when\ncompared with those of other countries, which he had seen in his\ntravels. He asked Panurge how this could be. Then Panurge, who was\nnever at fault, after turning up his long nose, told him this little\nstory:--\n\n[Illustration: PANTAGRUEL MARCHES TO ROUEN.]\n\n\"In the old days, when that fine King Pharamond reigned over France,\nthere were no leagues, no metes, no furlongs, no recognized boundaries\nbetween different countries; nothing, in fact, to show where one\ncountry began and where another ended. That just old King resolved to\nmake all this right. So he caused to be brought together in Paris two\nhundred of the brightest and prettiest girls and boys to be found in\nall France, whom he feasted well for eight days. After it the King\ncalled the two hundred children before him, and gave them a sum of\nmoney large enough for their expenses during a long journey. He then\ncommanded that they should not go out by the same gate, but start away\non different roads, here and there, as their fancy took them out from\nthe city. He further told them that, wherever they should stop to play\nand run about in the bright sunshine, and gather flowers, or chase the\nbeautiful butterflies, they should leave a stone there to show that\nthey had done so.\n\n\"That stone would mean, '_This is one league_.'\n\n\"It was summer time in the pleasant, flowery, laughing month of June,\nwhen the skies seem more full of blue, the fields more full of green,\nand the roses more full of red, than they are at any other time,\nthat the gentle King Pharamond had gathered these innocent children\ntogether. The whole party, with bright cheeks and merry laughter,\nstarted from Paris by one road and another. How could the children help\nfeeling happy when the skies were so blue, the fields so green, and the\nroses so red, and when the butterflies would fly so near the ground,\nas if only too glad to be run after and caught! And then each boy and\ngirl knew that their generous King had given them so much money that,\nto their simple fancies, it seemed as if they could never spend it all,\ntry as hard as they might.\n\n\"In those bright June days, full of light, and green, and blue, they\nwere always crying out: 'Let us stop! Oh, let us stop to play.'\n\n\"So they used, at first, to stop at every turn of the road to skip and\ngambol about in the fields, to gather the pretty flowers, to chase the\nbrilliant butterflies, to sing back to the singing-birds in the trees,\nand to breathe in the sweet summer air, after which, with ringing\nlaughter and the merriest shouts, they would leave a big stone to mark\nthe spot where they had been so happy.\n\n\"This explains, my lord,\" said Panurge, making a face, \"why _our\nleagues in France are so short._\"\n\n\"I see, I see,\" said the good Pantagruel, who had fallen into deep\nthought.\n\n\"But the longest summer must come to an end,\" Panurge went on to say.\n\"And when children stop at every turn of the road to play in the sun,\nand to run in the fields, and to pluck the flowers, and chase the\nbutterflies, and sing with the singing-birds, they are only robbing\nthemselves of their own glad time. For Autumn, with his clouds that\nhide the sun, and his ugly days, and his chilly nights, must be very\npatient if he does not soon begin to think it high time for him to\ncome on the scene. So it got to be quite another thing for the poor\nchildren the farther they went from Paris, because they soon found out\nthat King Pharamond's gift, large as it was, could not last forever.\nThe more they travelled, the worse the weather, the nearer they came\nto the bottom of their purse, the heavier grew the road, and the more\ntired their little bodies became. At last, all that the weary children\nprayed for was that they might reach the end of their hard journey as\nfast as possible. But Autumn himself was getting very old by that time,\nand fierce Winter, with his chilling breath, and his hands of ice,\nand his mantle of snow, was beginning to wonder when brother Autumn\nwas going to give him a chance of dropping his shining mantle over\nfield, lane, and road. There were no longer any blue sky; no longer any\ngreen fields; no longer any red roses for the children; and the bright\nbutterflies were all dead now, and the singing-birds were all mute.\n\n\"All that the poor little children could now do, wringing their hands,\nwas to cry: 'Let us go on! Oh, do let us go on!'\n\n\"So, too sad to think of play, but remembering always the command of\ntheir good King, they walked, or rather limped, along the highway, and\nwould rest as little as they could until they had reached Germany, and\ngone to the very end of that country, to make sure that they had done\ntheir duty.\"\n\nAfter telling this legend of King Pharamond and his two hundred little\nchildren, Panurge remarked, with a very ugly grin:--\n\n\"And this, Your Highness, is why _those cursed German leagues are so\nlong._\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIX\n\nHOW THE CUNNING OF PANURGE, WITH THE AID OF EUSTHENES AND CARPALIM,\nDISCOMFITED SIX HUNDRED AND SIXTY HORSEMEN.\n\n\n[Illustration: Initial S.]\n\nStarting from Rouen, Pantagruel, Panurge, Epistemon, Eusthenes, and\nCarpalim arrived at Harfleur, but remained at that city only one hour,\nwhen they took to sea,--a friendly North-North-west wind blowing at\nthe time,--and, with all sails set, in a short time passing by Porto\nSancto, and Madeira, touched at the Canaries.\n\n[Illustration: THE VOYAGE BEGINS.]\n\nOnce more on blue water, keeping; close to the Senegal coast of Africa,\nthey skirted by Cape Blanco and Cape Verde, and, still steering\nsouth-east, sailed on, day after day, until, after weathering the Cape\nof Good Hope, they touched at the friendly kingdom of Melinda. Taking\nto ship again after resting a week in Melinda, they made good progress\nwith a wind from over the mountains, and, after passing by Meden, Uti,\nUden, Galasin, by the Isles of the Fairies, and skirting the kingdom of\nAnchoria, finally cast anchor in the port of Utopia, which is a little\nover three leagues from the chief city of the Amaurotes, that was\nthen being hotly besieged by the _Dipsodes_, who, as you know, called\nthemselves the Thirsty People.\n\nWhen they had rested a bit and got their land-legs well on again,\nPantagruel, who, even in sea-sickness,--and he had, in fact, been very\nsick,--had been thinking of the perils in which his father's kingdom\nhad been placed, remarked: \"My children, it is lucky that those rascals\nhave not occupied this port, and it is just as strange as lucky,\nbecause the city is not more than three leagues off. But, before we\nmarch to its relief, it would be wise to consider what is best to be\ndone. Are you all resolved to live or die with me?\"\n\n\"Yes, Your Highness, yes!\" responded all. \"Count on us as you might\ncount on your fingers.\"\n\n\"I have somehow a trouble on my mind,\" Pantagruel went on to say.\n\"I know neither in what order nor in what number are my enemies who\nbesiege the city. If I could once know this, we should more surely be\nable to help my poor people.\"\n\nThen all the four companions cried out together: \"Leave that to us!\nThis day shall not pass before we bring Your Highness news.\"\n\nPanurge, as was to be expected, was the first to step forward.\n\n\"I undertake, my lord,\" he said, \"to enter into their camp in spite\nof their guards. What is more, I shall dine with them at their own\nexpense,--not one of them knowing who I am; visit their artillery;\ncount the number of tents of their captains; and strut at my will\nthrough the bands without ever being once detected. For _I_ am of the\nlineage of Zopyrus.\"\n\nThen Master Epistemon came forward:--\n\n\"I know all the stratagems of the ancient captains and champions of\nAntiquity; and all the ruses and artifices of the camps. Your Highness\nneed have no fear of my being caught, as I shall make them believe of\nyou what I please. For _I_ am of the lineage of Sinon.\"\n\nThen Eusthenes:--\n\n\"I shall get through their trenches under the noses of their sentinels;\nfor I shall pass through them, and--in spite of them, even though each\none were as strong as a bull--break their legs and wrench their arms\nfor them as I pass. For _I_ am of the lineage of Hercules.\"\n\nThen Carpalim:--\n\n\"As for me, Your Royal Highness, I promise to slip into the camp if\never a bird can fly there, because my body is so light that I can jump\ntheir trenches and leap through their tents before their keenest eyes\ncan see me. I am afraid of neither arrows nor bow-shots. As for their\nswift horses, I laugh at them. I undertake to skim over an ear of corn\nor the tall meadow grass, without either ever bending under me. For _I_\nam of the lineage of Camilla, the Amazon.\"\n\nCarpalim had scarcely declared that he was of the lineage of Camilla,\nthe Amazon, when a great shout was heard; and the whole party, turning\nround to find whence the noise came, saw six hundred light cavalry\nriding at full speed to see what ship had come into port, and to\ncapture the crew if fast riding and loud shouting could do it.\n\nPantagruel's big nostrils opened and shut, and went up and down in\nexcitement, as he roared out:--\n\n\"My lads, get you at once to the ship! You see our enemies there? I\nshall kill them, if they were ten times their number, just as easily\nas though they were so many beasts. So get in there, and you will have\nsome sport!\"\n\nBut Panurge, who, if a coward, was very sly, had been hatching a plan\nof his own, and answered:--\n\n\"No, my lord, there is no need of your taking so much trouble. On the\ncontrary, you are the one to go into the ship, both you and the others,\nfor I, myself, undertake, singly and without aid, to settle those\nrogues. But there is no time for delay. Seconds are worth hours now!\"\n\nThe others joined in with Panurge.\n\n\"Well said, my lord. Let Your Highness retire, and we shall help\nPanurge in such a way that you will soon learn what we can do when we\ntry.\"\n\nPantagruel, who saw that trick, not fight, was to win the battle, was\nhighly amused at all this. As he started to go back into the ship, he\nsaid:--\n\n\"I am willing, but on one condition. If those rascals are too strong\nfor you, call out for me.\"\n\n[Illustration: PANURGE DISCOMFITS THE HORSEMEN.]\n\nThe first thing Panurge did was to get two stout ropes from the\nvessel. After tying these to the capstan on the deck he pulled them to\nthe shore, where he twined them round and round into two circles, one\nvery large, and the other a smaller circle inside of the larger one.\nAfter he had his two circles ready, he said to Epistemon:--\n\n\"Go into the ship and wait until I call out. Then you will turn the\ncapstan as strong and as quickly as you can, drawing up, of course,\nboth these ropes as you turn.\"\n\nPanurge had also a word of warning for Eusthenes and Carpalim:--\n\n\"Wait here, my lads, until the enemy come near, then make signs that\nyou surrender. But take care not to get your legs inside of these\nropes. All you will have to do is, while appearing to yield yourselves,\nto get as far away from those fellows as you can.\"\n\nThen Panurge, all in a hurry, rushed into the vessel once more,\nand caught up a bundle of straw and a small barrel of gunpowder,\nthe contents of which he scattered along inside and outside of the\ntwo circles of ropes. Holding in his hand a bit of lighted paper,\nand putting on his most innocent face, he was ready for the men\non horseback, who just then came thundering down. The first rank\ncame nearly as far as the ship, but, because the sand was yielding,\nforty-four men and as many horses were brought tumbling to the ground.\nSeeing the first line fall, and believing that their comrades had met\nsome resistance, the others were about to rush to the rescue; but just\nhere was heard the mild voice of Panurge:--\n\n\"Gentlemen, you will pardon me, if I say it is not we who have\nstretched your noble companions there, but the sea-water, which makes\nthe sand slippery. We surrender at your good pleasure.\"\n\nEusthenes, and Carpalim, and Epistemon, who was on deck, said the same\nthing.\n\nBut, even while he was talking, the cunning Panurge had been sliding\noff and, when he saw that all the horsemen were drawn well within the\ncircles, and that his two friends had got to a safe distance, making\nway for the cavalry who were pressing forward to see the ship, shouted\nout suddenly to Epistemon:--\n\n\"Turn! turn!\"\n\nHearing these words, Epistemon began to turn for his life, and the\ntwo ropes twisted themselves around the legs of the horses in such a\nfashion that, in falling, they brought their riders down with them.\nThose in the rear, seeing the trick, drew their swords to cut the\nropes, and so escape; but Panurge was quite ready for them. It was when\nthey did so that he fired his powder-train, which burned up every one\nof the company, men and horses, except one. He only escaped the flames\nbecause he was mounted on a Turkish horse of great swiftness, which\nbore him off with his light hoofs. But when Carpalim saw this he said\nto himself: \"Here, now, is a chance to show that _I_ am of the lineage\nof Camilla!\" and ran after him with such speed that he caught up with\nthe Turkish steed within less than a hundred steps, and, leaping on his\ncroup, hugged the rider from behind and brought him a prisoner to the\nship.\n\nPantagruel was, of course, in a most jovial mood, and praised to the\nskies the cunning of his friends. Nothing would do but that they should\ncelebrate their victory in eating and drinking, and the prisoner\nalong with them. It was a merry feast on the shore, for all but the\npoor captive, who was not at all sure that Pantagruel was not going\nto gobble him up whole, which he might have done--his throat being so\nlarge--with as much ease as he would have taken down a sugar-plum.\nIndeed, the prisoner would not have made any greater show in the\nGiant's throat than a grain of millet in an ass' mouth.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXX.\n\nHOW CARPALIM WENT HUNTING FOR FRESH MEAT, AND HOW A TROPHY WAS SET UP.\n\n[Illustration: Initial W.]\n\nWhile they were thus chatting and feasting, Carpalim suddenly cried\nout: \"Are we never to have any fresh meat? His Highness makes us\nthirsty enough, but this salt meat quite finishes me. Wait a moment! I\nam going to fetch you here the thigh of one of those horses which are\nburning over yonder. No fear of their not being roasted enough!\"\n\nAs he was springing up to do this, his quick eye caught sight, just\nat the edge of the wood, of a large stag, which had come out of the\nforest, attracted doubtless by Panurge's big bonfire. Carpalim ran\ntowards the stag with such fleetness that he seemed to have been shot\nfrom a cross-bow, and caught up with him in a moment. Even while he was\nbounding along, he was holding his hands up in the air, with all his\nfingers spread open, and, in that way, he caught four great bustards,\nseven bitterns, twenty-six gray partridges, sixteen pheasants, nine\nsnipes, nineteen herons, thirty-two red-legged partridges; and he\nkilled moreover with his feet, by kicking here and there, ten or twelve\nhares or rabbits that chanced to start up in his path and hadn't time\nto get away; fifteen tender young boars, and three large foxes. First\nkilling the stag by striking him on the head with his sword, he picked\nhim up and, while joyously returning along the road, gathered together\nhis hares, rabbits, boars, and foxes. And from as far as could be\nheard, he began to cry out:--\n\n\"Panurge! Panurge! Vinegar! Vinegar!\"\n\n[Illustration: CARPALIM CATCHES SOME FRESH MEAT.]\n\nThe good Pantagruel, having his back turned to the road, thought from\nthis that Carpalim surely must be sick, and so ordered that vinegar\nshould be at once brought. But Panurge, who happened to be looking out,\nhad already noticed what Carpalim had about him, and told Pantagruel\nthat his valet was carrying a fine stag around his neck, and around his\nwaist a belt of hares. Wise Master Epistemon at once made nine handsome\nwooden spits in the old style. Eusthenes, wanting to be useful, helped\nhim to skin the game; while Panurge placed two of the dead men's\nsaddles in such a way that they served as andirons. The prisoner was\nmade cook, and at the very same fire where his friends were burning,\nthe poor cook roasted Carpalim's venison. Of course, everybody enjoyed\nthe fresh meat after so much salt meat, and became very gay and chatty.\nPanurge evidently thought his friends were getting too noisy, for, of a\nsudden, he cried:--\n\n\"We had better think a little about our affairs, so as to decide in\nwhat way we will conquer our enemies.\"\n\n\"That is well thought on!\" said Pantagruel.\n\nHe at once turned to the prisoner, and, wishing to frighten him still\nmore, said: \"My friend, tell us here the truth, and do not lie to us\nin any one single thing, if thou dost not want to be eaten alive, for\nthey say I am he who eats little children. Give us, therefore, the\norder, the number, the strength in guns, of thy army.\"\n\n\"My lord,\" answered the prisoner humbly, \"know for truth that in my\narmy there are three hundred giants, all clad in armor, and wonderfully\ntall giants they are, too,--not quite so tall as Your Highness, save\none who is their chief, who is called Loupgarou, and who is armed with\nanvils. Besides these giants, there are one hundred and sixty-three\nthousand foot-soldiers, all armed with the skins of hobgoblins, and\nall strong and valiant men; eleven thousand, four hundred men-at-arms;\nthree thousand, six hundred double cannon, and quite too many\narquebusiers to count; and ninety-four thousand pioneers.\"\n\n\"That is all very well, so far as it goes,\" said Pantagruel, dryly;\n\"but is thy King there?\"\n\n\"Yes, sire, the King is there in person. He is known among us as\nAnarchus, King of the _Dipsodes_, which is the same as saying the\nThirsty People, because you have never yet seen a people so thirsty by\nnature or with such throats for drinking. The giants guard the King's\ntent.\"\n\n\"Enough!\" said Pantagruel. \"Brave boys, are you willing to follow me?\"\n\n\"May Heaven confound those who would leave you!\" cried out Panurge.\n\nThen the party began to joke one another about the prisoner's report,\nand to boast about the glorious feats each one was going to do on the\ngiants who guarded King Anarchus' tent.\n\nAs was his habit the noble Pantagruel laughed at all the nonsense, but,\nin the midst of a good shaking, he suddenly thought of what was really\nbefore him.\n\n\"Gentlemen,\" he said, \"you reckon without your host. I am rather afraid\nthat, if you go on much longer in the way you are now, it will not be\ndark before you are in such a state that those Thirsty People can come\nhere and maul you with pike and lance. So, then, children, let's be\nmarching. However, before we leave this place, in remembrance of the\ncourage you have just shown, I wish to erect here a fine trophy.\"\n\n[Illustration: THE TROPHY.]\n\nThis was a happy idea, and everybody was at once busy--singing\nmeanwhile pleasant little songs--in setting up a high post. This done,\nthey hung up on the post a great cuirassier saddle, the front-piece of\na barbed horse, bridle-bits, knee-pieces, stirrups, stirrup-leathers,\nspurs, a coat of mail, a battle-axe, a strong, short, sharp sword, a\ngauntlet, leg-harness, and a throat-piece,--all spoils from the poor\nhorsemen whose bones were then lying half-charred on the sands.\n\nAnd this was the trophy which Pantagruel raised.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXI.\n\nTHE STRANGE WAY IN WHICH PANTAGRUEL OBTAINED A VICTORY OVER THE THIRSTY\nPEOPLE.\n\n\n[Illustration: Initial W.]\n\nWhen the trophy had been raised, Pantagruel had his prisoner brought\nbefore him and sent him away with these words:--\n\n\"Get thee back to thy King in his camp, and tell him what thou hast\nseen. Be sure you tell him to be ready to welcome me to-morrow, at\nnoon. All I am waiting for are my galleys, which, are on the sea. As\nsoon as they come, which will be to-morrow morning, at the very latest,\nI shall prove to thy King, by eighteen hundred thousand men and seven\nthousand giants,--each of those giants taller and larger than thou\nsee'st me here,--that he has been an idiot to attack my country.\"\n\nOf course, in all this talk about having an army on the sea, Pantagruel\nwas only trying to frighten the King of the Thirsty People.\n\nThe prisoner made haste to assure Pantagruel that he was his humble\nslave, and that he would be only too glad, not only if he never should\nsee his people again, but, also, if he should be allowed to fight under\nthe Prince against them. Pantagruel shook his great head at this. No!\nno! he must leave at once, and do what he had been told to do. He gave\nhim at the same time a box full of a strange paste, made with some\ngrains of black chameleon-thistle, steeped in brandy, ordering him to\nplace this in the hands of his King, and say to him that, if he could\neat even one ounce of the mixture without wanting to drink after it, he\nwould be able to resist Pantagruel and his whole army without fear.\n\n[Illustration: THE KING OF THE THIRSTY PEOPLE.]\n\nThen the prisoner began to wring his hands, begging Pantagruel in the\nhour of battle to have pity on him.\n\n\"After thou hast announced all to thy King,\" answered Pantagruel,\ngravely, \"put all thy trust in God, and He will never forsake thee.\nLook at me! I am, as thou canst see, mighty. I can put millions of\ntroops in the field. Yet I place no reliance on my strength or my skill;\nbut all my trust is in God, my protector, who never abandons those who\nhave their faith in Him. Go, then,\" he added more kindly, \"and, if thou\nwishest no evil to happen to thee, turn thy back on bad company.\"\n\nWhen the prisoner had at last got away, the good Giant turned to his\nfriends, saying: \"My children, you know that I do not tell lies; but it\nis always lawful in war to deceive an enemy. This is why I have made\nthat prisoner believe we had armies on the sea, and, also, that we were\nnot going to make an assault on their camp till to-morrow at noon. But\nI have sent a paste that will put them all to sleep to-night, so that\nthey will not be prepared to receive my attack to-morrow, at noon. My\nreal purpose is to attack their camp in the hour of their first nap.\"\n\nBut the prisoner--knowing nothing of all this side-talk--walked quickly\ntowards the city, which he soon reached, as you already know it was\nonly three leagues from the coast. As soon as he saw the King, he\nbegan the story of how there had come a great Giant, who had routed\nand caused to be cruelly roasted alive, six hundred and fifty-nine\nhorsemen; and how he, alone of all the troop, had escaped to bring the\nterrible news. He then went on to state that that wonderful Giant had\ncharged him to say that he would look on His Majesty at dinner-time,\nand wanted him to make ready for him. Then he presented the box of\npaste, but, just as soon as the King had swallowed one spoonful, his\nthroat started to burn, and, after a while, his very tongue began\nto peel off. What was to be done? There was only one way out of the\ntrouble, and that was for the King to drink--drink--drink, without\nstopping! The result was that everybody was bringing the King wine, and\npouring it down his royal throat; and if ever he stopped, the royal\nthroat began to burn just as bad as ever. For the Thirsty People,\nthere could be nothing finer than such a sweetmeat, that would make\nthem drink, and drink, and drink again. Nothing would do the pashas,\ncaptains, and guardsmen but that they should try the paste to see\nwhether it would produce such thirst in them; and the moment they did\nso they were in the same fix as their King, and they all drank so long\nthat a rumor ran through the camp that the prisoner had come back, and\nthat a great attack was to be made the next day by some terrible enemy,\nof whose name nobody knew. What could be better, then, than to enjoy\nthemselves the night before? So the captains and the guards began to\ndrink, and clink glasses, and give healths, until they got stupidly\ndrunk, and lay, here and there, where they fell, as so many swine all\nabout the camp.\n\n[Illustration: THE SOLDIERS TRY PANTAGRUEL'S PASTE.]\n\nWhat was Pantagruel doing in the meanwhile?\n\nAs soon as he found that he could no longer see the prisoner\ntrudging along the road--and remember the eyesight of giants is\njust so much keener than that of common men, as their bodies are\nstronger--Pantagruel pulled out the mast from his ship, which he\ncarried in his hand like a pilgrim's staff, first putting in the\nhollow of it two hundred and thirty-seven puncheons of white wine of\nAnjou. The next thing he did was to tie to his waistband the bark\nitself, filled with salt, which he carried as readily as women going to\nmarket carry their little baskets of vegetables. When they got near the\nenemy's camp, Panurge said: \"My lord, do you wish to do a wise thing?\nGet that white wine of Anjou down from that mast, and let us drink to\nour success.\" Panurge was right in this, because, strong as Pantagruel\nwas, such a weight of wine would have only troubled him if he had to\nfight. He was willing enough, and they drank so much of the delicious\nwine that, at the end, there was not a single drop of the two hundred\nand thirty-seven puncheons left except what was to be found in one\nleathern-flask, which Panurge grabbed for his own private use, and hid\naway in his pocket.\n\nWhen the wine was gone, Pantagruel called out to Carpalim: \"Get thee\ninto the city, scrambling over the walls like a cat, as thou knowest\nwell how to do. Tell our people in the city that now is the very time\nfor them to attack their foes, who are weak. As soon as thou art\nthrough with them, seize a lighted torch, run through the streets, and\nset fire everywhere. Don't forget to cry out with thy loudest voice:\n'Fire! Fire!' and skip from the camp.\"\n\nWithout another word, Carpalim was on the road, leaping and bounding\nfor the city. Everything was done as Pantagruel had commanded. All\nthe army in the city--that part which was not drunk--rushed out of\nthe walls to meet the foe, and found--nobody. Carpalim, meanwhile,\nran through all the tents and pavilions, setting fire to each one. Of\ncourse, in doing so, he had now and then to step over the captains and\nother officers who had eaten of Pantagruel's paste, but he stepped so\nlightly, and they were so drunk, that they never knew it. The tents\ncaught fire so quickly that poor Carpalim--if it had not been for his\nwonderful agility--would have been roasted alive, like the captains,\npashas, and guardsmen who were snoring in their tents when he set fire\nto them.\n\nWhen the army, that had been silly enough, when Carpalim shouted, to\nrun outside of the walls, reached the plain and found no enemy, they\nwandered about in great confusion, and, being very tired, at last\nreturned to the city and lay outside of the burning tents, and went\nto sleep with their mouths open. Nobody thought of taking care of the\nburning gates. It was long after midnight when Pantagruel entered the\ncity, and as he marched through the streets he would take bags of salt\nout of the ship, which he carried around his waist, and, as he passed\nthe sleepers, would drop the salt into their open mouths. Many died\nfrom choking; and the rest of those who were lucky enough not to be\nburnt, when they woke next morning, thought they had enough salt in\ntheir mouths to last them for a lifetime. All they said as they got up\nand humbly went about their business, wetting their tongues every now\nand then to get the vile, bitter taste out, was:--\n\n\"O Pantagruel, thou hast made our throats burn worse than before!\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXII.\n\nTHE WONDERFUL WAY IN WHICH PANTAGRUEL DISPOSED OF THE GIANT LOUPGAROU\nAND HIS TWO HUNDRED AND NINETY-NINE GIANTS.\n\n\n[Illustration: Initial A.]\n\nAs soon as the body-guard of Giants saw flames bursting from the\ntents, all they could think of doing was to snatch up their little\nKing Anarchus, tie him to the neck of one of them, and get out of the\nburning city as fast as their long legs could take them. Panurge, as\nusual, was the first to see the Giants racing out of the city.\n\n\"My lord,\" he said, \"just look at those big rogues over there! All you\nhave to do is to charge with that mast you have in your hand. You can\nhave no better way to prove your skill. We, on our part, are not going\nto fail you.\"\n\n\"Ho! ho!\" answered Pantagruel, \"I do not lack courage. But even\nHercules did not dare fight against two, and here thou wouldst have me\nfight against three hundred!\"\n\n\"What!\" retorted Panurge, while his tip-tilted nose curled higher in\nthe air than usual, \"does Your Highness seriously mean to compare\nyourself with Hercules? God has given you stronger teeth and stouter\nlimbs than ever Hercules had.\" Panurge was going to say a good deal\nmore, but here came Loupgarou with all his Giants.\n\nWhen Loupgarou saw that Pantagruel was alone,--for, after all, to the\neyes of giants common-sized men, like Panurge, Epistemon, Carpalim, and\nEusthenes, must have looked like so many dwarfs,--he felt sure that he\nwould be able to make away with him. In fact, he was so sure that he\nturned to his Giants, laughing all the time so as to show all his big,\ncruel, yellow teeth. \"By Mahomet! if any of you dare fight with that\ngreat braggart over there, you shall die at these hands! I, alone, wish\nto fight with him! Meanwhile, you shall have rare sport in looking on.\"\n\nLaughing loudly, the other Giants fell back a short distance, where\nthe wine and victuals had been left, carrying their little King along\nwith them. They had hardly got there when the cunning Panurge and his\nfriends, putting on a most humble, miserable look, crawled up, saying:--\n\n\"We surrender, good comrades. We have no taste for war. All we ask is\nto join with you in feasting while our masters are fighting.\"\n\nThe poor little King was willing; the Giants were willing; and so they\nbegan to feast, Panurge and the others along with them.\n\nLoupgarou had, by this time, advanced upon Pantagruel, with a fearful\nmace of steel, weighing nine hundred and seventy thousand pounds.\nAt the end of the mace there were thirteen diamond points, the very\nsmallest of which was as big as the largest bell of the _N\u00f4tre D\u00e2me_,\nin Paris. But what made that mace so terrible was, that it was formed\nof fairy steel, so that it had only to touch the strongest thing in\nthe world to break it into pieces. But Pantagruel, as we know, put his\nfaith in God alone. As every good Christian, when he sees a fearful\nenemy near him, calls upon God, so Pantagruel prayed to Him, while\nLoupgarou was cursing furiously, to aid him who had always loved the\nChurch and obeyed the Ten Commandments. He had scarcely ended his\nprayer when he heard a voice from the sky, saying: \"Have faith, and\nthou shall gain the victory.\"\n\nBy this time, Loupgarou, with his mouth wide open, was drawing near\nhim, and Pantagruel, who had no enchanted weapon, but only his mast,\nthought to frighten the monster by crying out, as the old Laced\u00e6monians\nused to do, in his most awful tones: \"_Thou diest, rascal! Thou\ndiest!_\" Even while he was saying this, he was digging his big hands\ninto the ship which he carried at his waist, from which he took\nmore than eighteen kegs and four bushels of salt, which he threw,\nfilling Loupgarou's mouth, throat, nose, and eyes. This only made\nLoupgarou rage worse than ever. Roaring with pain and anger, he rushed\nagainst Pantagruel, thinking to break his skull with his fairy mace.\nPantagruel, luckily, was both quick of foot and keen of eye. Seeing\nwhat Loupgarou was at, he stepped with his left foot back one pace; but\neven then he was not so quick as to save the ship. Loupgarou's blow\nfell upon its prow, which was enough to smash it into four thousand and\neighty-six pieces, scattering, of course, the rest of the salt along\nthe ground.\n\n[Illustration: THE FIGHT WITH LOUPGAROU.]\n\nWhen Pantagruel saw his good ship all in pieces he did not despair, but\ngallantly attacked Loupgarou with its mast, striking him two blows;\none fell above the breast, the other between neck and shoulders. The\nmonster did not relish such treatment. So, when Pantagruel wanted\nto give another blow in the same sharp style, Loupgarou raised his\nenchanted mace and rushed upon him, knowing that he had only to touch\nhim with it to cleave him from head to foot. But, by God's blessing,\nPantagruel's nimbleness saved him here a second time. Stepping briskly\nto one side, the terrible mace swept with a hissing noise through\nthe air, striking a great rock which stood in the way, into which it\ncrashed more than seventy-three feet, making a fire greater in bulk\nthan nine thousand and six tons flash from the hole it had made.\n\nHere was another chance for Pantagruel.\n\nSeeing that Loupgarou was tugging away at his enchanted mace to pull it\nfrom the rock, Pantagruel ran towards him with his mast well-poised,\nfeeling sure that, this time, he would take off his head; but, by bad\nluck, his mast just grazed the stock of Loupgarou's mace. Of course it\nbroke, and, what is worse, broke within three hand-breadths of his own\nhand. Pantagruel was so much amazed at all this, as he had never before\nheard that Loupgarou's mace was enchanted, that he cried out, without\nvery well knowing what he was doing: \"Ho! Panurge, where art thou?\"\n\nPanurge, whose eyes and cars had been stretched wide open ever since\nthe beginning of the fight, shouted out to the King and the Giants: \"By\nHeaven! if we don't get them apart, they will hurt one another.\"\n\nBut the Giants, on their side, were in high chuckles. When Carpalim\nwanted to get up to help his master, one of them said:--\n\n\"By Golfarim!\"--who is the nephew of Mahomet,--\"if thou stir from here,\nI shall tuck thee in my belt.\"\n\nMeanwhile Pantagruel, having lost his staff, caught hold of the little\nstump that was left of the mast, striking blows, here and there, with\nit on the Giant's body. But the stump was so short that no harm was\ndone. Of course, all this time, Loupgarou was puffing and blowing hard\nto pull his mace out from the rock. He at last succeeded. All the\ntime he was getting ready to swing it once more, he was bawling out:\n\"Villain! this time I shall surely kill thee! Never after this shalt\nthou make honest people thirsty!\" In trying to get his mace in proper\nposition to strike, he was, of course, bending a little.\n\nHere was one more chance for Pantagruel; and Pantagruel took it.\n\nWhile Loupgarou had his body half-bent, Pantagruel gave him such a\nkick in the stomach that he made him fall backwards, heels over head,\nand as he began to drag him along the ground, Loupgarou was bleeding\nat the throat, and could only find breath to call out three times:\n\"Mahomet! Mahomet!! Mahomet!!!\"\n\n[Illustration: DEATH OF LOUPGAROU.]\n\nThe moment they heard that cry, up started all the Giants to help their\nleader; but now came Panurge's time to interfere.\n\n\"Gentlemen, don't you go, if you have the slightest faith in me. My\nmaster is mad, and is striking out blindly. He may hurt you in his\nanger.\"\n\nBut the Giants only ha-ha'd at all this, having seen that poor\nPantagruel's only weapon, the mast, had been shivered to the handle by\nthe fairy mace. So, like idiots, they started in a body to Loupgarou's\nrescue. The moment Pantagruel, who was just then breathing a little\nhard, saw the Giants coming up, he caught Loupgarou's body, encased in\nan armor of stout anvils, up by the two feet, lifting it high in the\nair with the same ease as he might have raised a pike; and, with the\nmaster's own body, he slashed around right and left among the Giants,\nknocking them down as a mason chips with his hammer little bits off\na stone. Not one of the Giants could stand before Pantagruel without\nbeing struck flat to the ground. While Pantagruel was performing\nsuch wonders with Loupgarou's body and his armor of anvils, Panurge,\ntogether with Carpalim and Eusthenes, were not idle. They, who had been\nso humble a few moments before, were now going from one to the other\nof the party who lay stretched on the ground, cutting the throats of\nsuch as had not fallen quite dead. When the battle seemed to be at an\nend, up came a fearful Giant, whom Pantagruel did not know, but who\nwas so much taller and stouter than his comrades that Loupgarou had\nmade him his first officer. Pantagruel felt perfectly safe with his\nnew weapon; but, seeing how big the Giant was, he gave an extra strong\nblow with the body, which sent Loupgarou's head rolling on the ground.\nThis new Giant was the last, and that one strong blow killed him. Then\nPantagruel, seeing that none of the Giants had escaped, with one great\nswing of the arm, threw the headless body into the city, which was not\nvery far off.\n\nIt fell into the great Square, where it crushed with its weight one\nsinged cat, one wet cat, one lame duck, and one bridled goose.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXIII.\n\nHOW PANTAGRUEL FINALLY CONQUERS THE THIRSTY PEOPLE, AND THE STRANGE\nBUSINESS PANURGE FINDS FOR KING ANARCHUS.\n\n\n[Illustration: Initial A.]\n\nAfter this marvellous victory, Pantagruel sent Carpalim before him\ninto the city to let everybody know that King Anarchus had been taken\nprisoner, and that all his Giants had been killed. On receiving this\nmessage, the people flocked out of the walls to welcome their own\nPrince. Everywhere, crowds were making merry around fine, round tables,\nfilled with good victuals, and set out in the middle of the streets.\nSo good was the cheer, and so bright were the bonfires that blazed on\nevery side, that the people said it looked like the Golden Age come\nagain. Pantagruel called the wise men of the city before him. When they\nhad gathered together, he spoke these words:--\n\n\"My masters, I am not satisfied with getting back my own city. I shall\nnot rest until I capture all the cities, towns, and villages in the\nKingdom of the Thirsty People. I noted to-day that this city of yours\nis so full of people that they can't turn about in the streets. I know\nwhat I shall do for them. I shall plant my ancient and tried Utopians\nas a colony in Dipsodie, so that they can teach the Thirsty People how\nto be true and loyal. By to-morrow at daylight, let men of all trades\nbe in the Public Square. I shall be ready to march at that hour.\"\n\n[Illustration: WELCOME TO PANTAGRUEL.]\n\nOf course, this was soon noised about the city. The next morning a vast\nmultitude swarmed into the Great Square before the Palace to the number\nof one million eight hundred and fifty-six thousand and eleven--not\ncounting the women and children. At break of day, this great army\nwas all ready to march in good order straight into the country of the\nThirsty People.\n\nBut, before they all get away. I must tell you one of the cunning\ntricks of our old friend Panurge. He had not forgotten that the\nwretched little King Anarchus, whom Pantagruel had given to him as\na present, had been the chief cause of the invasion of the peaceful\nKingdom of Utopia. If Anarchus had shown the spirit of a brave man\namong the stout and faithful Giants, who had fought to the death to\nkeep his mean little body from harm, Panurge would never have dared\ntouch him. But Anarchus had been all along such a coward that he wasn't\nworth anybody's pity. So, on the evening of Pantagruel's triumphant\nentrance into the city, Panurge, after some hard thinking, got up a\nnew dress for the little King. There was nothing at all royal about\nthe dress. It was very far from being that, as it consisted of a pretty\ncanvas doublet, all braided and pranked out; a pair of wide sailor\ntrousers; and stockings without shoes.\n\n\"For,\" as Panurge said, \"_shoes would only spoil his sight._\"\n\nHe then put on the head of Anarchus a little pink cap, trimmed with a\ngreat capon-feather,--maybe I am wrong, because I have been told that\nthere were two of these feathers,--besides a fine belt of blue and\ngreen. This was the ridiculous figure which Panurge dragged before\nPantagruel.\n\n\"Do you know this fellow?\"\n\n\"Not I,\" said Pantagruel.\n\n\"Why, this is the King of the Thirsty People! I am going to make an\nhonest man of him. He was a pitiful rogue when he wore the crown. Now\nthat he wears this gay dress, he is an honest man. I have given him a\ntrade. He is a crier of green sauce, at your service. Now, little King,\nbegin! Call out, 'Green Sauce! Green Sauce! Who wants to buy Green\nSauce?'\"\n\nThe poor King, from pure shame, piped out too low.\n\n\"That is not half loud enough,\" cried Panurge, catching him by the ear,\nand saying, \"Sing higher, little King; sing higher in _ge, sol, re,\nut._\"\n\nPantagruel made himself merry at all this. I dare say the little King\nwas the drollest man he had ever seen.\n\nAnd this was how King Anarchus got to be a Crier of Green Sauce.\n\nTwo days after this, Panurge married the little King with an old\nlantern-jawed hag. To have everything pass off gaily, and to make sure\nof good dancing, he hired a blind man to give the music. For their\nwedding-supper, he ordered fine sheep-heads, plenty of eels served with\nmustard, and tripe spiced with garlic. The drink was watered wine and\nfine cider.\n\nPantagruel gave the couple a little cottage in one of the side streets,\nand a stone-mortar in which to pound their sauce. Here they carried on\ntheir trade, and the little King might have been happier than when he\nlived in a palace and had Giants to guard him, but for his wife, who\nbeat him in time as flat as a mummy.\n\nWhen Pantagruel marched from the city, along the high road, he looked a\ngrander and mightier Giant than ever. Every town and city surrendered\nto him as he drew near, and every noble of the country came to offer\nhim homage. Only the city of the Almirodes held out; and that would\nhave kept its gates shut to the end had it not been for a story its\npeople happened to hear of the Giant and of an awful storm which came\nup one day, while he was on his way there with his army. There being\nno danger of _his_ being drowned,--so the story ran,--Pantagruel put\nhis big tongue half way out of his mouth and covered the whole army\nas snugly as a hen covers her chicks. When the people of the stubborn\ncity heard _that_, they opened their gates wide!--wide!!--wide!!!--to\nlet the Giant pass. \"There is no use resisting such a man as that,\"\neverybody said.\n\n[Illustration: GRANDER AND MIGHTIER THAN EVER.]\n\nAnd so ended the bad war which the Thirsty People had begun against the\nUtopians when their good King Gargantua had been carried to Fairy-land.\n\n[Illustration: PANTAGRUEL RETURNS.]\n\nPantagruel, having ended his tour through all the cities of his new\nKingdom of Dipsodie, finally reached the Palace where he had been\nborn, and on leaving which, one sad day, to go on his long journey to\nschool, he had seen for the last time his dear and honored father.\nAll these thoughts made the tender-hearted Giant sad; but he had no\ntime for weeping. There were many wrongs in his own Kingdom of Utopia\nto make right. There were many rights to make strong. There were a\nthousand other things to do for his faithful people, who had at once\nproclaimed him King when Gargantua had been taken to Fairy-land,--even\nwhen he had been leagues upon leagues away.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXIV.\n\nGARGANTUA COMES BACK FROM FAIRY-LAND.--AFTER WHICH PANTAGRUEL PREPARES\nFOR ANOTHER TRIP.\n\n\n[Illustration: Initial O.]\n\nOne day Gargantua came back from Fairy-land.\n\nIt was a day above all others long to be remembered by Pantagruel, when\nhe first heard, on coming home from a visit to one of his cities, where\nhe had gone to decide a knotty case between that city and a neighboring\ntown, the sharp bark of a dog. \"Why! I know that bark,\" he said. \"That\nis the bark of little Kyne, my father's dog. My father must surely\nhave come back!\" So, joyfully, he followed Kyne, who went bounding and\nfrisking back to the great door of the Palace. There he found his old\nfather, with his arms stretched wide open to clasp his son. Everybody\nwas glad to see that wonderful meeting of father and son high up in the\nair.\n\n\"My dear son!\"\n\n\"My dear and honored father!\"\n\nThat was all they could hear, as the old Giant and the young Giant, arm\nin arm, passed through the door, and went up the broad stairway into\nthe great hall. We may be sure that Snapsauce and the two other Very\nFat Cooks were soon doing their best to get together a good dinner,\nduring which Pantagruel heard all about Fairy-land, its Queen, and her\nkind Fairies. When a fresh flagon of wine rested between them, Father\nGargantua said:--\n\n\"I praise God, my beloved son, that he has given thee such wisdom\nand virtue. Had it not been for thee, I would still have been in\nFairy-land, for thou hast been wise while I was away. I would like to\nspeak to thee now on a subject which much troubled me there. Thou art\nnow old enough to take a wife, and I desire to see thee marry. Hast\nthou ever thought of a wife?\"\n\n\"To tell the truth, most dear father, I have never yet thought of one.\nBut, in choosing a wife, I am always thy son, and thou shalt choose for\nme.\"\n\n\"I believe thee in that, my son. But thou shalt choose for thyself when\nthe time comes for a wife. When thou findest her, bring her home; she\nshall find a father waiting for her.\"\n\nPantagruel stretched out one big hand across the table. It met another\nbig hand, only that other was more knotty and wrinkled than his own.\nThen the two mighty hands clasped.\n\n\"But this is not all that I wanted to say, my boy. It is time thou\nshouldst travel. Thou needest rest. Hast thou not been King in my\nplace?\" The old Giant laughed as he said this. \"Hast thou not filled my\nthrone, thou young rogue, for this score of years and more? Thou art\nnot so strong as thou wast; thou hast need of a holiday.\"\n\n\"Hast thou also thought, father, of a plan for all this whilst thou\nwert in Fairy-land?\"\n\n\"Well, yes. I had nothing else to do there but think. I know thou dost\nlove to travel and see strange things. Thou shalt start at once. Don't\ncrawl on land. Spread out thy white sails, and try the seas. Take with\nthee thy friend Panurge,--he looks like a keen fellow,--my old friend\nFriar John, my old master Ponocrates, who would be better for a trip;\nalso Master Epistemon, and such others as thou pleasest. Put thy open\nhand into my treasure-box, and draw out thy closed fist with what thou\nwantest of my gold. Thou wilt find at my arsenal, Thalasse, all that\nthou needest; besides pilots, sailors, and stout soldiers. At the first\nfair wind, set sail. When thou art away, my boy, I shall make ready\nfor thy wife, and for a splendid feast when thou shalt bring her safe\nhome.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXV.\n\nPANTAGRUEL STARTS ON HIS TRAVELS, AND LANDS AT THE ISLAND OF PICTURES.\n\n\n[Illustration: Initial A.]\n\nA few days after this, Pantagruel said good-by to Gargantua, leaving\nthe old Giant on his knees praying for his son. He took with him\nPonocrates, Panurge, Epistemon, Gymnaste, Eusthenes, Rhizotome, and\nCarpalim going with him of course; fine old Friar John, who was fond\nof saying that he could not sleep o' nights unless he was in search of\nsome adventure; besides a famous traveler named Xenomanes, who boasted\nthat he knew every land and every sea that the earth, if it had a\ntongue, could name. When he reached the sea-coast once more, Pantagruel\npicked out the twelve largest vessels in Thalasse, and gathered\ntogether all the pilots, mates, boatswains, sailors, workmen, soldiers,\nartillery, ammunition, provisions, and clothes he needed for a long\nvoyage.\n\nThe Flag-ship carried at its prow the strange figure of a gigantic\nBottle. Half of this bottle was of polished silver, the other half of\ngold enamelled with crimson. From this every child in Thalasse--who\nwas a born sailor, and could read strange legends around the prows of\nships--ran about the streets in glee, shouting that the Prince's colors\nwould be white and red in the lands to which he was going.\n\n[Illustration: PANTAGRUEL PICKS HIS SHIPS.]\n\nWith James Brayer, the best pilot in the world, the fleet sailed gaily\naway, with all its flags flying. It had all the way, except for a few\ndays near the Island of the Macreons, a fine, brisk wind, which each\nday carried it farther toward India, the mysterious land in which\nPantagruel was going to seek a wife. On the fifth day, James Brayer\ncaught sight of an island, fair to see on account of the high, white\nlight-houses and towers, which rose so close together that the whole\ncoast shone like solid silver under the sun. On steering for the\nnearest port, it was found that the new land was known as Medamothi, or\nthe Island of Pictures.\n\n[Illustration: PANTAGRUEL SETS SAIL.]\n\n\"Island of Pictures!\" exclaimed Pantagruel; \"then we must have some of\nthem!\"\n\nWhile every ship's crew was hard at work taking in fresh water,\nPantagruel, with his friends, all in high good-humor at the prospect of\nonce more stepping on dry land, went on shore. They saw a great crowd\nof people hurrying here and there, treading on each other's heels, and\nfilling all the streets and by-ways leading to a great Square.\n\n[Illustration: LANDING AT THE ISLE OF PICTURES.]\n\n\"What brings all you good people here?\" asked Pantagruel of a cripple,\nwho was getting along as fast as he could hobble.\n\n\"Our great Fair, mighty Giant. Our Fair is held here every year.\"\n\n\"Have you anything there worth the trouble of walking to see?\"\n\n\"Oh, yes! Your Highness. Many wonderful things are brought here by the\ngreat merchants of Asia and Africa; yes, and from all parts of the\nworld, too.\"\n\n\"We are in time, then, to see these wonderful things,\" said the Giant.\n\nOnce at the Fair, Pantagruel and his friends were delighted with\nthe number and variety of the finest tapestry pictures ever brought\ntogether. There was nothing on the earth--whether men, country, cities,\npalaces, farm-houses, mountains, ravines, valleys, lakes, trees,\nflowers, birds, rivers, beasts, fishes--that was not to be found worked\nin tapestry by skilful hands at that most wonderful of Fairs. Everybody\nbought a picture,--Friar John, Epistemon, Eusthenes, Carpalim,\nPanurge,--everybody, even Gymnaste, who had never before in all his\ndays seen tapestry. And it was here, while Pantagruel was standing,\ndeep in thought, before a bit of tapestry Epistemon had bought, that\nXenomanes came up and tried in every way to catch his eye. All those\naround were too busy in making good bargains for themselves with the\nmerchants to help him; so, after half a dozen efforts, he shook his\nwhite head gravely, and walked away.\n\nIt was Gymnaste who bought the largest and finest tapestry of all,\nrepresenting the \"Life and Feats of Achilles,\" in seventy-eight pieces,\neight yards long and six yards wide, all made of Phrygian silk,\nembossed with gold and silver.\n\n\"Is that fit for a rough fellow like thee, Gymnaste?\" asked Panurge,\nwith his nose turned up in scorn.\n\n\"Thou knowest better than that, Panurge! It is a present from our noble\nlord to his royal father, which I have bought on his order.\"\n\n\"Humph!\" said Panurge, while his nose turned up still higher in a\nbright red end, and stayed that way until dinner-time, when it turned\ndown a bit, but got redder than ever before the meal was over.\n\nBefore leaving the Island of Pictures, Pantagruel bought three fine\nyoung unicorns, which were the tamest of all creatures, and a splendid\nreindeer which, with great care, had been brought all the way from\nfrozen Scythia. There never has been a reindeer like this reindeer from\nScythia! It could change its color at any time, not because it wanted,\nor knew it was doing so, but only because it could not help changing\nwhenever a new color came near it. For instance, when Panurge, in his\ngray kersey coat, would draw near to stroke it, its hair would turn\ngray too. Near Pantagruel, dressed grandly out in his great scarlet\nmantle, the reindeer would blaze out red. When James Brayer, in his\nlong, white gown, happened to come near the beast, there, in a few\nseconds, was the reindeer from Scythia turning white before everybody's\neyes! Pantagruel was very proud to be the owner of such treasures;\nand, after he had once got the tapestry for his father, the wonderful\nreindeer, and the three unicorns, as playful as young kittens, safely\non board, he gave the order for the fleet to sail from the Island of\nPictures.\n\n[Illustration: PANTAGRUEL BUYS SOME STRANGE ANIMALS.]\n\nPantagruel had been so taken up with these strange animals that it\nwas not until he was on his way to the port that he remembered that\nXenomanes had tried to catch his eye. At once turning to him, he said\nkindly:--\n\n\"Your pardon, great traveller; what did you wish to say to me?\"\n\n\"Only this, my lord, that seeing so many tapestry pictures, I was\nreminded of that strange Land of Satin which I once visited. I know\nYour Highness to be a great lover of travels, and always glad to learn\nnew things. It was for this reason I ventured to disturb you.\"\n\n\"Why!\" said Pantagruel, at once interested, \"were there as many\nwonderful things in your Land of Satin as there are in this Land of\nPictures?\"\n\n\"What I tell you, my lord, is strange but true. In the Satin Land,\nthe trees and herbage never lose their leaves or flowers, and are all\ndamask and flowered velvet. As for the beasts and birds, they all\nlooked to me like what we saw in those pictures. I saw many beasts,\nbirds on trees, of the same color, size, and shape of those in our\ncountry. There was one difference, however, between them. Those in\nSatin Land ate nothing, and never sang or bit like ours.\"\n\n\"And the people of that land, Xenomanes, what of them?\"\n\n\"This I cannot tell Your Highness.\"\n\n\"Ho! and why?\"\n\n\"Never a word could I ever get from those people. There I saw many\nphilosophers, travellers, and students, with whom I would gladly have\nspent half an hour in learned converse. They all seemed to be full of\nbusiness, running about hither and yon, and yet had little to do.\"\n\n\"And what do those busy, silent people live on?\"\n\n\"I don't know how they contrive to _live_, Your Highness, for once I\ntried a bunch of their fine ripe cherries. They had no manner of taste,\nand, although I was hungry enough that day, I could neither chew nor\nswallow them, but my mouth seemed filled with what I could have sworn\nwas tufted silk.\"\n\n[Illustration: THE LAND OF SATIN.]\n\n\"Strange!\" said Pantagruel. \"I wish I had looked closer at those\npictures. The next time you want to speak to me, good Xenomanes, shout!\nI may hear you then.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXVI.\n\nPANURGE BARGAINS WITH DINDENO FOR A RAM, AND THROWS HIS RAM OVERBOARD.\n\n\n[Illustration: Initial F.]\n\nFive days after leaving the Land of Pictures, the flag-ship being\nin the lead, Pantagruel's keen eyes caught sight, away off to the\nwindward, of a large merchant-ship making her way slowly towards them.\nThere was great joy among all the men on all the ships. Those on the\nfleet were glad, because they hoped, through the sail in sight, to hear\nnews of the sea; and those on the merchant-ship because her passengers\nexpected to get news from the main-land. When the flag-ship met with\nthe stranger, and when the two were side by side, Pantagruel, curious\nto see a merchantman, went with his friends on board the latter.\n\nThe skipper of the merchantman, cap in hand, told Pantagruel that he\nhad come from Lanternland. As soon as this was known everybody tried to\nput in a question about the country,--how it had got its name, and what\nwere the habits of the Lantern people. It was learned that, towards the\nend of each July, the Lanternists held their great Fair, which, if the\nGiant wished to see for himself how much could be made of lanterns,\nwhether single or strung in rows, by twos; by threes; by fours, and so\non; or piled in columns; or ranged in arches; or spanning streets; or\nhung on trees; or sparkling on country roads; or swinging along the\nwhole coast, making it as bright as in sunshine,--why, all he would\nhave to do was to go there, if not that year, then the next.\n\nWhile all this pleasant little talk was going on between the Giant\nand the skipper, Panurge had already got into a wrangle with a French\nsheep-seller, named Dindeno, who happened to have a large cargo of\nsheep on board. This sheep-seller was a very bad-tongued fellow; and,\nseeing Panurge passing by, with his glasses tied to his cap, and\nlooking at his stock, he called out sneeringly to his shepherds,--\n\n\"Just look at that long-nosed dandy, with his glasses tied to his cap!\"\n\nPanurge, whose ears were as keen as his nose was sharp, retorted,--\n\n\"What dost thou say, thou sheep-barber?\n\n\"Sheep-barber! Ha! I am no sheep-barber, I let thee know, thou\nlong-nosed dandy.\"\n\n\"Thou art no sheep-barber, eh! Prithee, tell me, then, rude fellow,\nwhat are so many sheared sheep doing here? Who sheared them, if thou\ndidst not?\"\n\n\"Thou art a rogue; and I will kill thee as I would a ram!\" shrieked\nthe sheep-seller, while trying to draw his sword; but the blade stuck\nclose to the scabbard, as often happens on sea, from the rust caused by\nsalt-water. Panurge, who was not armed, and who, from his cradle, had\nbeen a coward, ran for safety towards Pantagruel, who was not looking\nat what was going on. But Friar John, always on the watch, with his\nstrong arm caught hold of Dindeno. Then Pantagruel, turning round and\nseeing a man struggling with Friar John, knew for the first time that\nthere was a quarrel. At this moment the skipper stepped up, and, with\nmany bows and prayers that there should be no bad name given to his\nship, begged his Giantship to order peace. This was done, and Panurge\nand Dindeno shook hands, apparently the best of friends.\n\nA short time after, Panurge winked at Epistemon and Friar John, as much\nas to say, \"I want to have a word with you.\" As soon as they came near,\nPanurge whispered, \"Stand about here for a while, and you shall see\nrare sport.\"\n\nHaving no idea of what was coming, Friar John and Epistemon stepped to\none side, and waited.\n\nThen Panurge, turning to Dindeno, begged him to be good enough to sell\nhim one of his sheep.\n\n[Illustration: PANURGE WANTS A SHEEP.]\n\n\"Hello! my good friend and neighbor,\" cried the sheep-seller, \"dost\nthou want to play tricks on poor people? How long since thou hast been\na buyer of sheep?\"\n\n\"Whatever I may have been,\" said Panurge, gently, \"be so kind as to\nsell me one of thy sheep there. Now, how much wilt thou ask for one?\"\n\n\"See here, friend and neighbor, these are noble creatures. These are\nlong-wooled sheep. It was from the fathers of these very sheep that\nJason took his famous Golden Fleece.\"\n\n\"I do not doubt thy word,\" said Panurge; \"but fix thy price for one of\nthose precious sheep. Here is thy money ready for thee.\"\n\n\"My friend and neighbor, now listen to me!\"\n\n\"I am listening.\"\n\n\"I shall make a bargain with thee! We have a pair of scales on board.\nGet thee on one scale. I shall put my prize ram on the other. I am\nwilling to bet thee a peck of Busch oysters that, in weight, value, and\ngeneral worth, my ram shall outweigh thee!\"\n\n\"That may be all so; but I beg thee, good Dindeno, without further\nword, to be so kind as to sell me one of thy sheep; I care not which\none.\"\n\nWith that, he pulled out his purse, and showed it bursting with new\ngold-pieces, with the face of good King Gargantua stamped on each piece.\n\nDindeno's eyes flashed at the glitter of so much gold; but he had made\nup his mind to insult Panurge until he made him angry.\n\n\"My friend and neighbor,\" he said, \"my sheep are meat only for kings\nand princes. They are too nice and dainty for such as thou.\"\n\n\"Be patient now, and please grant my request. Only set thy price for\none, and I will pay thee like a king.\"\n\n\"Thou art a fine fellow, truly,\" sneered Dindeno; \"but tell me first,\nhast thou ever seen such shoulders, such legs, such knuckles, such\nbacks and breasts as thou canst see here? Such strong ribs, out of\nwhich the small people in Pigmy-land make cross-bows to shoot with\ncherry-stones those long-legged cranes in their country? Think of all\nthis for a second!\"\n\n\"Peace, good man, I pray thee!\" Panurge was about to say more, when he\nwas stopped all of a sudden by the skipper, who had just drawn near at\nthe sound of loud voices, and had heard Dindeno's sharp tones. \"Enough!\nEnough! Too much talk here!\" he cried. \"Dindeno, if thou wantest to\nsell, sell. If thou wilt not, have done with it.\"\n\n\"I am willing to sell, Captain, for thy sake; but for thy sake alone,\"\nsaid the sheep-seller. \"But he must pay me three French livres for his\npick and choice.\"\n\n\"That is a big price,\" said Panurge, gently. \"In my own country, I can\nbuy five, nay, six fine rams for that much money.\"\n\n\"But not such sheep as mine!\" yelled Dindeno, who was getting very\nangry that he had not vexed Panurge.\n\n\"Really, sweet sir, thou art getting a little warm. Come, now, the\nbargain is ended. Here is thy price. Give me my ram.\"\n\n[Illustration: PANURGE BUYS A RAM.]\n\nDindeno, in clutching angrily at the money, rudely pulled it out of the\nhands of the patient Panurge. Holding himself as straight as he could,\nwith an innocent smile upon his face, Panurge--having at last got what\nhe wanted--looked around to make his choice. He soon picked out the\nfinest ram in all the flock. The moment he caught hold of his ram, and\nbegan to haul it along, the poor beast set up a pitiful bleating. As\nsoon as the rest of the sheep heard their leader bleating, they, too,\nset to crying and bleating, while staring at him with all their eyes\nwide open. Meanwhile, Dindeno, full of rage, was whispering to his\nshepherds,--\n\n\"That long-nosed fellow knows how to choose! That ram he has taken was\nthe very one I had put aside for my best friend, the Lord of Cancale!\"\n\nAs quick as lightning--before anybody knew what he was about; even\nbefore Dindeno in fact, had turned away from whispering to his\nshepherds--Panurge had caught up his bargain, bleating louder than\never, and thrown it overboard into the sea. At this, all the other\nsheep on the ship, crying and bleating just in the same sad key as\ntheir leader, began to scamper to the side and leap into the sea one\nafter another. It was, with all of them, \"Who shall be first after our\nleader?\" it being the nature of sheep, which are the silliest creatures\nin the world, always to follow their leader.\n\n[Illustration: PANURGE THROWS HIS RAM OVERBOARD.]\n\nWhen Dindeno turned round and saw his precious sheep frisking and\ndrowning themselves before his eyes, he was at his wits' end. He tore\nhis hair, and called out to his shepherds, \"Help me save my sheep!\nhelp me!\" Then he ran forward, and tried to keep, by might and main,\nthe sheep from jumping into the sea; but it was all in vain. One after\nthe other frisked gaily forward, bleating sadly all the while, to the\nspot where they had seen Panurge throw their leader overboard. At last\nDindeno, in his despair, caught hold of a big ram by the fleece, hoping\nto be able to keep him back, and, in that way, to save the rest. But\nthe ram was stronger than Dindeno, and bore him away with him into the\nsea, where both were drowned.\n\nThis was, of course, bad enough; but there was something worse to come.\nAll of Dindeno's shepherds rushed forward to save the sheep, some\ncatching them by the horns, some by the fleece, others by the legs,\nothers still by their stumpy tails. It mattered little which way the\npoor innocent shepherds caught hold of the sheep, the sheep were too\nmuch for them, and they were all carried overboard into the sea, and\ndrowned along with their master.\n\n[Illustration: THE SHEEP AND SHEPHERDS DROWN.]\n\nAll this time Panurge was standing near the galley of the ship, holding\nan oar in his hand. This was not, you may well believe, to keep the\npoor shepherds from drowning. No! no! Panurge was not so soft-hearted\nas _that!_ He used his oar only to keep the sheep from swimming up to\nthe ship, crying out all the time,--\"Drown, foolish sheep, drown! It\nis sweeter to drown than to live and be butchered, you foolish sheep!\"\n\nWicked Panurge! He never once thought of Dindeno and the innocent\nshepherds!\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXVII.\n\nTHE ISLAND OF ALLIANCES.\n\n\n[Illustration: Initial A.]\n\nAfter the slaughter of Dindeno, his shepherds, and his sheep,\nPantagruel returned to his ship, and continued on his way to that land\nwhere he was hoping soon to meet the lovely Princess, whose beauty\nhad reached his ears from far India. As to the affair on board the\nmerchant-ship, nobody could be found who was really to blame. Panurge\nput on his most innocent look, and declared to Pantagruel that he\nhad only done what he had a perfect right to do,--thrown his own ram\noverboard.\n\nWith a spanking breeze, the fleet made great speed. On the third day a\ntriangular island, having something of the shape of Sicily about it,\nwas sighted. Pantagruel and his friends, on landing, were met by one\nwho called himself the Mayor, who came puffing, and all red in the face\nfrom the haste he had made to get to the harbor, as soon as he heard\nthat a strange craft was in port.\n\n\"What is the name of this queer, three-cornered land, and who are its\nqueer-nosed people?\" whispered Panurge, sharply twitching the Mayor by\nthe sleeve, as he was making his twelfth bow to Pantagruel. Nothing\never pleased the Mayor more than to be called upon for an account of\nthe island and its people. He had written a little history for the\nbenefit of travellers, and knew every page of it by heart. In his own\nmind, he at once put Panurge down as a very gifted personage, although\nhe was willing to grant that Pantagruel was the tallest and the noblest\nman who had ever stepped on the island. Bowing to Panurge, therefore,\nvery politely, and having learned that it was Pantagruel's wish for\nhim to go on, he gave them an account as he led them from one point of\ninterest in the island to the other.\n\nAccording to the Mayor, the island was known as the \"Island of\nAlliances.\" It used to be called, in the old times, \"Island of the\nNoseless People,\" from the fact that the noses of all the men and women\nand little children were flat, and shaped like the ace of clubs. The\nisland was small, but it was full of people, and had been inhabited for\nmany thousand years. As ages rolled by, it was found to be of no use to\ntry and keep up the family names; for, as there was no difference in\nthe faces,--since all, big and little, rich and poor, had the same kind\nof club-nose, dumped exactly in the middle of the face,--nobody could\nclaim any particular name. In their trouble, through much thinking,\nthey at last formed a plan by which they could tell one from another.\n\nThis was their plan:--\n\nThey made up their minds to forget altogether, as unworthy of them,\nsuch barbarous relationships as father, mother, sister, brother, uncle,\naunt, etc., and to call each other by the name of whatever one most\nwanted. In this way, the people of the island became as one family. So\nloving did they grow under this new rule that each one seemed to have a\ncertain right to his neighbor, and never spoke to him without putting\n\"_my_\" before his name. If a little girl, for instance, wanted butter\nfor her bread, she would call her mother \"my _Butter_;\" if the mother\nwanted her thread, the call, \"my _Thread_,\" would bring the little girl\nrunning to find it for her. A young man would bow to a young lady, and\nsay, \"A lovely day, my sweet _Evening Walk_,\" and she would smile,\nand reply, \"Yes, my _Fairest Nosegay_.\" An old man would call to his\nson, \"Hurry, my _Staff_,\" and the boy would answer, \"At once, coming,\nmy _Purse_;\" a learned professor would call his class to recite by\nringing his bell for \"My _Good Lessons_,\" and each scholar would salute\nhim respectfully, as he marched into his room, with \"Good-morning,\nmy _Success_.\" A hungry man would call the bar-maid, \"Quick, my\n_Oysters_,\" and she would answer, \"Yes, my _Sixpence_.\"\n\nThere could be no trouble under this new and wise law, for\neverything--even in the smallest matters--worked smoothly. There could\nbe no sad marriages, because each one called for in the other what he\nor she most needed, and did not have. Young men and maidens danced and\nsung half the year round, since they were always calling each other,\n\"My gay _Holiday_\" and \"My rich _Feast_.\" The children, too, were\nhappy, and laughed and played from eye-opening to eye-shutting time;\nold men and women talked around the fireside of the time when they\nwere young, tenderly calling each other, \"My dear gossip _Snuff_\" and\n\"My good neighbor _Pipe_.\" So close together did this people get to be\nthat, in case of need, over three hundred thousand men, whose boast was\nthat they all belonged to the same family, could march out of the city\ngates. So, at least, the Mayor of Club-noses declared.\n\n[Illustration: THE ACE OF CLUBS NOSES.]\n\nGood Pantagruel kept his eyes fixed upon the Mayor, and his ears open\nto all that he was saying; but, at this last boast of three hundred\nthousand men in one family, he slightly frowned, and came near losing\nhis usual sweet temper. The wordy Mayor, frightened by the awful\neyebrows about to meet together, began to feel a strange thirst; and,\nmaking a very low bow, proposed a cup of good-cheer at a neighboring\ninn.\n\nAfter some twenty or thirty bumpers each, Pantagruel's party all went\non board, and sailed at once, right before the wind, from the Island of\nAlliances, without stopping to see any more of its queer-nosed people.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXVIII.\n\nHOW PANTAGRUEL CAME TO THE ISLANDS OF TOHU AND BOHU.--THE STRANGE DEATH\nOF WIDENOSTRILS, THE SWALLOWER OF WINDMILLS.\n\n\n[Illustration: Initial P.]\n\nPantagruel stopped at two islands named Tohu and Bohu, which lay\nvery close together. There had always seemed to be a somebody, or a\nsomething, very wonderful in the islands he had already passed; but\nthere happened to be a more wonderful somebody in Tohu and Bohu than he\nhad seen or heard of in any other place. When Pantagruel landed with\nhis friends at the quay of the principal town, where the chief men came\nto see him, he called for dinner; but behold! there was no dinner to be\nhad. Why? Why, there was nothing to cook the dinner in!\n\n\"How is that, my friend?\" Pantagruel asked the chief man.\n\n\"Because,\" he answered, \"Your Highness has not brought your frying-pan\nalong with you.\"\n\n\"My frying-pan along with me! Why, what do you mean? What has my\nfrying-pan to do with the dinner you are to serve me?\"\n\n\"A great deal, Your Highness, since we have no pans of our own.\"\n\n\"Did you ever have any?\"\n\n\"Any number, Your Highness, any number; but Widenostrils has just eaten\nour last one.\"\n\n\"Has just eaten your last one, you say? Pray who is this Widenostrils\nwho has a fancy for gobbling frying-pans?\"\n\n\"A wicked giant, almost as tall as Your Highness, who has swallowed all\nour windmills.\"\n\n\"But windmills are not frying-pans, friend?\"\n\n\"No, Your Highness is quite right there; but I was just about to say\nthat, when there were no more windmills to swallow, this wicked giant\ntook to shovelling every skillet, kettle, frying-pan, dripping-pan, and\nbrass and iron pot in the land down his big throat, and all for want\nof windmills, which were his daily food. That made him very sick. It\nalmost killed him. We hoped it had killed him outright; but it didn't.\nBut he is dying, now, sure enough.\"\n\n\"Dying of what?\" asked Pantagruel; \"of eating frying-pans and skillets?\"\n\n\"I wish it was! Some people do say so; but others, who are fishermen,\nand who live on the coast, and know everything that happens, declare\nthat our giant went, a month ago, to another island, where he has been\ngoing for years, to swallow windmills, and vex the poor people there,\nand that he took in, with his last batch of windmills, I don't know\nhow many cocks and hens. Now that I remember, I did hear that his own\ndoctor made the choking worse by making him eat a big lump of fresh\nbutter too near a hot oven. All this is very strange, though--I can't\nquite make it out myself.\"\n\n\"Where is that great Widenostrils? I should like to see him.\"\n\n\"In yonder meadow. Your Highness will find him very sick.\"\n\nPantagruel and his friends crossed over to the meadow, and there found,\nunder the blazing sun, an enormous giant stretched along the ground,\nbreathing heavily through the most awful nostrils human eyes had ever\nseen; and every time he breathed through his nostrils they flapped\nwith a loud noise, like a sail when the wind shifts. The giant looked,\nas he lay there, very tough and wooden-like, as though the thousands\nof windmills he had gulped down in his time had gradually turned his\nbody into wood. When they came near him, Widenostrils opened his eyes\nfor a moment, first lazily, as he saw Panurge and the other little men\nabout him, then wildly rolling them around, in fearful efforts to see\nthe whole of the Giant, whose legs he had first caught sight of. It\nwas only for a moment though; for Widenostrils was dying. He half-rose\non his elbows, quivering through all his big body, his nostrils all\ndrooping and shutting close for want of air, yet found strength enough\nto yell out, \"Magic, magic! Protect me, brother Giant! Cocks and hens\nare fluttering inside of me! Cocks and hens are crowing and cackling\nwithin me! I am be----!\" He was going to say _bewitched_, but he fell\nback with a thump, which shook the two islands to their centre, deep\nunder the sea, and made the people in distant lands swear, ever after,\nthat there had been a terrible earthquake on that day.\n\n[Illustration: GIANT WIDENOSTRILS, THE SWALLOWER OF WINDMILLS.]\n\nWhen Panurge saw Widenostrils fall back dead,--but not until then,--he\nwent to the body, and, scrambling on its stomach, with the aid of\nGymnaste, listened carefully for a few moments. Then, jumping down, he\nsaid to Pantagruel:--\n\n\"My Lord, this Widenostrils; this fine swallower of windmills; this\neater of pans, and glutton of pots, is really dead! But I can swear\nthat there are some things much like crowing cocks and cackling hens\nrummaging inside of his big body. Once I heard something very much like\na quick yelp followed by a sharp screech.\"\n\nPantagruel seemed not to hear Panurge, for he stood a long time looking\ndown at the body of a giant, who, when living, must have been nearly as\ntall as himself. On turning away, he said:--\n\n\"I wonder where this wicked man, who loved windmills, and died from\nskillets, ever swallowed those fowls he talked about.\"\n\nHe did not leave the island until he had ordered the dead giant\nhonorable burial in the meadow where he had died. But he did not wait\nfor the funeral. If Widenostrils had been a good giant, he would have\nacted as chief mourner; but he had a fixed rule which he expressed by\nsaying:--\n\n\"Giants should always be brotherly with Giants, but only with good\nGiants.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXIX.\n\nA GREAT STORM, IN WHICH PANURGE PLAYS THE COWARD.\n\n\n[Illustration: Initial T.]\n\nThe next morning the fleet started from Tohu and Bohu, cheered by the\npeople, who were all in the best humor, because Pantagruel had left\namong them a new stock of frying-pans and skillets, so shining that\nthey could see their faces in them. The sky was bright; the wind was\nfair; the very sea seemed to laugh,--all the fleet was happy. But\nPantagruel sat on deck, looking very sad.\n\nFriar John was the first to notice how still Pantagruel was. On seeing\nhis Prince so glum, the good Friar, who was always a comforting kind\nof man, was just about asking him the reason, when James Brayer, the\npilot, after cocking one eye at the sea, and the other at the sky, and\nthen turning both eyes up towards the flag drooping on the poop, as\nthough it would never wave again, knew that a storm was coming on, and,\ntherefore, bid the boatswain pipe all hands on deck, and even summon\nthe passengers.\n\n\"In with your top-sails!\" he shouted. \"Take in your spritsail! lower\nyour foresail! lash your guns fast!\"--all of which was done as quick as\nhands could do it.\n\nOf a sudden, as though a great hand from above had swept down to stir\nthe waters and make them mad, the sea began to swell, and moan and\nroar, and rise up into mountains, and sink into valleys. An awful\nnorth-west wind had got caught in with a hurricane,--so James Brayer\nsaid,--and the two together whistled through the yards, and shrieked\nthrough the shrouds. The sky itself seemed to be splitting open, and\ndropping down thunder, lightning, rain, and hail. In broad daylight it\ngrew all dark, and the water rose to mountains, and sank to the depths\nin perfect blackness, save for the great flashes of lightning that\nshowed the white faces of men, and the whiter foam of the sea.\n\nIt looked as though the end of the world had come, and that those on\nthe sea had been the first to know it.\n\n[Illustration: A STORM COMES ON.]\n\nJames Brayer soon had every one about him busy at the work of saving\nthe flag-ship. Even Pantagruel was pressed into service. It was no time\nfor ceremony; the danger was too great for that. James Brayer bawled\nthrough his trumpet:--\n\n\"My Lord, I must ask you to stand amidship. Your Highness is so heavy\nthat, in a sea like this, whichever side of the ship you may be on\nis bound to keel over. The sea is mad,--I have never seen it so mad\nbefore!\"\n\nPantagruel, in the midst of all this shouting of men, and raging of\nthe waves, and shrieking of the winds, was kneeling perfectly quiet,\nbut praying with all his good heart to the Almighty Deliverer to save\nthem. Hearing James Brayer call, he at once rose from his knees, and\nsaid cheerfully:--\n\n\"Here I am, good pilot! But how am I to stand amidship without\ninterfering with the handling of the ship?\"\n\n\"Easily enough, Your Highness. All you have to do is to put your arms\naround the mainmast, and stand still.\"\n\n[Illustration: PANTAGRUEL HOLDS THE MAST.]\n\nThis Pantagruel did, holding the mast firmly with both hands, and\nkeeping it straighter than two hundred tacklings could have done.\nEverybody worked hard,--everybody except cowardly Panurge, who, when\nthe sea first began to churn, sank upon deck all in a heap, more\ndead than alive. He could do nothing but whine and cry _boo! boo!\nboo! boo!_ and call upon Heaven to save him. In the meanwhile, all\nthe others were as busy as beavers,--Friar John, Gymnaste, Carpalim,\nXenomanes, even Epistemon and old Ponocrates himself! All did wonders;\nbut nobody worked like Friar John during all the storm; so, at least,\ndeclared James Brayer. Why, Friar John even pulled off his monk's gown,\na thing he had, until then, been known to do only once, and that was\nwhen he saved the Abbey-Vineyard. \"It bothers me, and I can't work in\nit,\" he said, as he pulled it off. With his waistcoat for a coat, he\nstood at his post with strong arm and cheery word for everybody. Every\nnow and then he would glance at Panurge, still squatted on deck and\ncrying, \"_Boo! boo! boo! boo!_ Friar John, my friend, good father, I\nam drowning. _Boo! boo! boo!_ The water has got into my shoes. _Boo!\nboo! boo! boboo!_ I drown! Oh, how I wish I was a gardener, and planted\ncabbages, for then I would be sure of always having at least _one_ foot\non land! Oh, my friend, the keel goes up to the sun. I hear the hull\nsplitting. We are all drowned! _Boo! boo! boo! holos! holos!_\" At last\nFriar John's patience gave out,--it was at the close of the sixth hour\nhe had been working,--and he roared out to Panurge:--\n\n\"What art thou bellowing there for, like a calf? Panurge the cry-baby,\nPanurge the whiner, would it not better become thee to help thyself and\nfriends? Come, be a man!\"\n\nJust then a huge sea broke on the deck. Panurge was too frightened even\nto look up. All the answer he could give to Friar John was, \"_Boo! boo!\nboo! boboo!_ The ship is capsized! I drown!\"\n\n[Illustration: A SEA BREAKS OVER PANURGE.]\n\nAt that moment, Pantagruel's voice was heard even above the storm, so\nmighty was it in prayer: \"Save us, good Lord, if it be Thy will.\" The\nGiant's prayer must have been heard. The thunder still crashed; the\nlightning still blazed; the rain still poured; but it was not half so\nbad as before. The sea still rose; but it rose in hills, not mountains,\nnow. Pantagruel still stood, as he had from the first, with his arms\nclinging to the mainmast while he braced it up, and his eyes trying\nto pierce through the blackness. At last, just as the day broke, he\nshouted:--\n\n\"Land! land! My children, I see land! We are not far from port. I can\nsee the sky clearing up southwards. Cheer up, all!\"\n\nJames Brayer was at his side as quick as lightning.\n\n[Illustration: LAND IN SIGHT.]\n\n\"Up, lads!\" he shouted. \"Our prince sees land, and the sea is smoother.\nWe can put out a trifle of sail. Hands aloft to the maintop! Mind your\nsteerage; clear your sheets; port, port! Helm-a-lee! Steady, steady!\"\nAnd steady it was, too. Before all eyes on the ship land was now to be\nseen in full sight, some twenty miles off. The sun was just beginning\nto shine a little. The sea was no longer mad. It was only sobbing,\nsobbing, sobbing, as though half-ashamed it had so troubled the good\nGiant who knew how to pray.\n\n[Illustration: IT WAS LATE IN THE AFTERNOON.]\n\nIt was late in the afternoon when James Brayer brought the flag-ship\ninto port. It was so late that it was resolved not to go on shore until\nnext day.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XL.\n\nTHE ISLAND OF THE MACREONS, AND ITS FOREST IN WHICH THE HEROES WHO ARE\nTEMPTED BY DEMONS DIE.\n\n\n[Illustration: Initial T.]\n\nThe next morning there was not a man in the whole fleet so spruce, so\ngay, so brave as Panurge.\n\n\"What cheer, ho! fore and aft?\" he cried gaily. \"Good-day to you,\ngentlemen, good-day to you all. Oh, ho! all's well, the storm is over.\nPlease be so kind as to let me be the first to go on shore. Shall I\nhelp you before I go? Here, let me see, I'll coil this rope; I have\nplenty of courage; give it to me, honest tar,--no, no, I haven't a bit\nof fear, not I. How now, Friar John, you do nothing! Well, so there's\nnothing for me to do. Let us go on shore, then! Truly this is a fine\nplace!\"\n\n[Illustration: PANURGE REVIVES.]\n\nWhile Panurge was blustering, and making believe that he had not been\ncrying and blubbering all during the storm, Pantagruel and his company\nwere paying no attention to him, but were making everything ready to\ngo on shore. On landing they were met most kindly by the people of the\nisland, which turned out to be a small one, known as the Island of\nMacreons, Macreon being a Greek word meaning an \"old man.\" Therefore,\nthe Island of Macreons was only another name for the \"Island of Old\nMen.\" A venerable Macreon, with long white beard, reaching to his\nwaist, who was the High Sheriff of the island, stepped forward, and\ngravely invited Pantagruel to go with him to the Town Hall, where he\ncould take a rest after his fatigue, and be sure of a little luncheon\nafterwards. But the Giant would not leave the quay until all his men\nhad got ashore, and with enough provisions to last them while at work\non the ships, which needed many repairs after the storm. This was done\nat once, and then began the carouse both in the Town Hall and among the\nmen along the quay. There is no telling now how much was really eaten\nand drunk during that day; but there was enough for every one. The\npeople of the island brought their victuals. The Pantagruelists brought\ntheirs. It was something more than a lunch, as it turned out. It was a\nreal picnic on a large scale; everybody giving his share of the feast,\nand making the most of what the others brought.\n\nAfter the meal Pantagruel took his officers aside, and told them that,\nas the ships had been strained by the storm, they should set to work to\nmake them sound again. As soon as the people of the island heard of the\ntrouble many offered to help. This they could easily do as they were\nall, more or less, carpenters, having a large forest behind three very\nsmall ports.\n\n[Illustration: THE DARK AND GLOOMY FOREST.]\n\nAt Pantagruel's request the white-bearded Macreon, whose name was\nMacrobius, showed him all that was strange or wonderful in the island.\nLeaving the harbor, he took the Giant into the dark and gloomy forest,\nwhich was found at the entrance to be full of ruined temples, obelisks,\npyramids, and crumbling tombs. Over most of these were inscriptions and\nepitaphs, some in strange letters, none could read, not even Panurge;\nothers in Ionic characters; others in the Arabic; others in the\nIcelandic. \"Our heroes come,\" the old man explained, \"from every land\non the earth.\"\n\n[Illustration: PANTAGRUEL IN THE GRAVEYARD.]\n\nMacrobius asked Pantagruel how it was that he and his fleet could have\nsurvived the awful storm and reached port, when the Macreons could\nsee that all the air and the earth were in wild uproar. Pantagruel\nanswered, with that simple faith of his which gives the smallest dwarf\nthe strength of the tallest giant, \"Friend, it was God's will.\"\nAfter which, he asked him whether these great storms were common around\ntheir coast.\n\nThe old man then told a very sad tale.\n\n\"Pilgrim,\" he said, in a broken voice, \"this poor island of ours was\nonce rich, great, and full of young people. Now there are no young\npeople in it, and it is only full of old men like myself, and of\nshadows that we can feel, but never can see; shadows that we love,\nbut never can know; shadows that move about in yonder forest you see\nstretched out before you, and, when their hour comes, die in its\ndarkest depths. No common shadow ever yet lived or ever yet died in our\nforest. It is the dwelling-place only of heroes and of demons.\"\n\n[Illustration: THE DEMONS AND THE HEROES.]\n\n\"Of heroes and demons?\" cried Pantagruel, amazed.\n\n\"Yes, of heroes, who, after being great on earth and seeming to die\nthere, come here to live another life, and to suffer, and to show\nthemselves great for a final trial; and of demons who are given power\nto roam the forest at will, only to mock, and laugh, and lure, if they\ncan, the heroes to sin.\"\n\n\"How do the demons lure the heroes to sin?\"\n\n\"By trying to make them forget that to be good is the only way to be\ngreat.\"\n\n\"Do the heroes ever yield?\"\n\n\"Yes, pilgrim, often, too often; and there is our great grief. If they\nonce yield, they die at the moment of sinning, and there is neither\nstorm at sea nor grief in the forest. We never can know when the bad\nheroes pass away. But ah! it is when the true heroes, who, though\ntempted, will not yield, die,\" and here Macrobius stretched out his\nhands towards the dark line of trees as though in prayer, \"that we\nlearn of it to our sorrow. Pilgrim!\" he cried, while the tears, dry,\nlike the tears old men shed, trickled down his withered cheeks into\nhis white beard, \"we were sure yesterday that we had lost another good\nhero.\"\n\n\"And what made thee sure, good Macrobius?\"\n\n\"Because we noticed that a comet, which we had seen for three days\nbefore the storm, of a sudden grew dim, and that it shines no more.\nThen, yesterday, when the sea was at its worst, we could hear loud\ncries in the forest; feel tremblings in the earth under us; and in the\nair about us there were breathings and black clouds. Listen, now, the\ntrees are calling some name, I know they are. I am old; my hearing is\nfaint. Do you not hear voices?\"\n\n[Illustration: \"WE HAD LOST ANOTHER GOOD HERO.\"]\n\nPantagruel listened intently; but, even with his quick ears, could only\nhear a mournful sough, as though coming over the tops of the trees from\na great distance.\n\n\"Not voices, but more like sobs, good old man. They may be weeping for\nthe hero who died yesterday. Canst thou tell me his name?\"\n\n\"Ah, pilgrim, there, too, is our cross! It is not given to us to learn\nthe name of a hero who has died until a year after the forest has\nmoaned, and the sea has wept, and the earth has trembled.\"\n\n\"And how dost thou show him honor?\"\n\n\"We place in this part of the forest which we are allowed to enter, and\non the tree he best loved when alive, a verse reciting his name, and\nsaying that another hero has died, but not until the good God had given\nhim the power to be greater than sin.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XLI.\n\nPANTAGRUEL TOUCHES AT THE WONDERFUL ISLAND OF RUACH, WHERE GIANT\nWIDENOSTRILS HAD FOUND THE COCKS AND HENS WHICH KILLED HIM. HOW THE\nPEOPLE LIVED BY WIND.\n\n\n[Illustration: Initial A.]\n\nAs soon as the ships had been calked and repaired, and fresh food had\nbeen taken in, James Brayer gave the word to sail; and the fleet set\nout, with the feeble shouts of the good old men in their ears, from the\nIsland of Macreons.\n\nTwo days after this the fleet touched at the Island of Ruach, which\nPantagruel found to be the strangest, in one thing, of any he had yet\nseen.\n\nThat one thing was WIND.\n\nIn other words, the people of Ruach lived on _wind_. They had nothing\nelse to live on; they ate nothing, they drank nothing, but _wind_. The\nvery houses they built were always as near windmills as they could\nbuild them. In their gardens they never grew cabbages, peas, beans,\nradishes,--only three different kinds of anemones, or wind-flowers.\nWhen they felt hungry, and there happened to be no wind stirring, the\ncommon people of the island, to start a breeze, used fans of feathers,\nor of paper, or of linen, as their means allowed. As for the rich, they\nlived by the whirl of their windmills,--the finest and the strongest\nwind, they declared, they could ever eat. Whenever they had a feast,\nthe Ruachians would spread their tables under one windmill, and, if the\ntable was long enough, it was made to stretch under two. While they\nwere eating, or rather drinking, in the wind from the great-winged\nmills, the guests would be discussing among themselves the excellence,\nbeauty, and rarity of their various kinds of wind. One would smack his\nlips, and whistle out,--they all whistled instead of talking:--\n\n\"Ah! how delightful this south-west breeze!\"\n\nAnother: \"How refreshing this south-east?\"\n\nAnother: \"But do taste a little of this western, I beg you! How\nhealthful!\"\n\nAnother: \"How choice this east-by-north!\"\n\nAnother: \"Will none of you join me in this exquisite south?\" and so\nforth.\n\n[Illustration: THE LAND OF WIND.]\n\nPantagruel wondered at all this whistling; but he opened his eyes wider\nthan ever when he caught sight of a big, bloated fellow whipping,\nwith his slipper, a servant-man and a boy. When he asked what was the\nmatter, he was told that the bloated fellow had accused the man and\nthe boy of stealing from him the better half of a large leathern bag\nof southerly wind, which he had put by for his own private winter-use.\nAll Pantagruel said to this was, \"This is very strange.\" While he was\non his way to the King's palace, on invitation, he saw several of the\nislanders, with large fans in their hands, taking a walk. The rich\nislanders were all stout. The poor islanders were all thin. It was a\nfight for wind; and the windmills and big fans won it.\n\nThe people of Ruach had these two proverbs always in their mouths:--\n\n    SMALL FANS MAKE SMALL WIND.\n    GREAT FANS MAKE GREAT WIND.\n\nThese were the only proverbs which had ever been known among them.\n\nWhen he met the King of the island, Pantagruel began to pay him\ncompliments on the cheapness of the food of the people. \"You live on\nwind; it costs you nothing; you have only to breathe to take in your\nfood; you and your people must be very happy.\"\n\n\"Not so happy as you may think, noble Giant. We have our troubles, like\nany other people.\"\n\n\"Troubles! Why, what troubles can you have?\"\n\n\"I will tell you. Every year, in the spring, a wicked Giant, named\nWidenostrils, who lives, I believe, in the Island of Tohu, comes here\nfor his health by the advice of his physicians. The moment he steps\non shore he begins to swallow our windmills. We are not afraid of\nWidenostrils for ourselves, although he is so horrid a monster; but we\nhave a mortal fear of him for our windmills. It will not be long before\nthere will be no more windmills left! Then what are we to do? We must\nhave wind; for without wind we must die.\"\n\n[Illustration: \"WITHOUT WIND WE MUST DIE.\"]\n\n\"Have you never tried to keep that wicked giant away?\"\n\n\"Yes; often and often; and it was only last spring that we hit upon\nwhat we thought to be a good plan. About the time we were expecting a\nvisit from Widenostrils, we sent to a neighboring island to get us a\nsupply of cocks and hens. As soon as we got them, we filled our largest\nwindmills with them. As usual, Widenostrils, when he landed, began to\ngobble up one windmill after another. Very soon the roosters began to\ncrow, and the hens began to cackle, and both began to fly about inside\nhis stomach. Then Widenostrils got very sick, and lay down in yonder\nfield gasping for a whole day. As he lay down the strangest thing\nhappened.\"\n\n\"What was that, friend?\"\n\n\"Of course, with the cocks and hens crowing and cackling and making\nsuch a to-do in his stomach, here and there, Widenostrils kept his\nmouth open, hoping they would get tired and fly out. Seeing his big\nmouth open, what should all the foxes in the neighborhood, which are\nvery tame, as we never hunt them, scenting the cocks and hens inside,\ndo but scamper after them through the monster's throat? We were afraid\nto have the wicked Giant die among us, so we managed to rouse him,\nalthough he was very sick, and even helped him to reach his ship,\nwhich sailed away at once. But of what use after all? Our curse will be\nback next spring. If the cocks and hens and foxes don't kill him, what\ncan we do?\"\n\n\"Have no more fear, friend,\" said Pantagruel; \"Widenostrils, the giant,\nthe swallower of your windmills, is dead. I am sure of that, for I\nmyself saw his corpse in Tohu. One of my friends here can tell you\nmore. What, ho! Panurge!\"\n\n\"That can I, your majesty,\" cried Panurge, stepping briskly forward.\n\"The Giant Widenostrils died from having too many cocks and hens and\nfoxes in his stomach. I heard in his stomach, with my own ears,--which\nare pretty sharp ones,--as he lay stretched out in the meadow, cocks\ncrowing, hens cackling, foxes yelping, and by my faith, I thought the\nfoxes were getting the better of the cocks and the hens.\"\n\n\"Thank Heaven! We can build our dear windmills again, and we shall not\ndie,\" cried the King, who at once sent his herald to announce the good\nnews through the island.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XLII.\n\nHOW PANTAGRUEL WITH HIS DARTS KILLS A MONSTER WHICH CANNON-BALLS COULD\nNOT HURT.--THE POWER OF THE SIGN OF THE CROSS.\n\n\n[Illustration: Initial A.]\n\nAbout sundown of the day when the fleet left Ruach, as they were coming\nnear Wild Island, Pantagruel's keen eye spied, far off, a huge whale,\nwhich, raised above the waters higher than the maintop, came straight\ntowards the fleet, blowing and spouting from its horrid nostrils so\nhigh a stream of water that it seemed to be a swollen river rushing\ndown a mountain's side.\n\n[Illustration: PANTAGRUEL SPIES A MONSTER.]\n\nPantagruel pointed out the whale to the pilot and to Xenomanes. James\nBrayer was the first one to give advice, and his advice was always\nworth listening to. What he advised was that the trumpets of the\nThalmege should be sounded so as to warn all the fleet to stand close,\nand look to themselves. At this alarm, every ship, galleon, frigate,\nand brigantine (according to naval discipline) placed itself in such\norder as to form the Greek Y,--the flag-ship being in the centre. This\nproved that James Brayer, while being a good sailor, had been landsman\nenough sometimes to watch cranes fly in the air. For the letter Y is\njust the figure that the cranes in their journeys--the leader always\nbeing in front--choose in winging their long or short ways across the\nsky.\n\nOf course the first one to get on the forecastle, where he could have a\nword with the grenadiers, was Friar John! Brave Friar John! He was the\nright-hand where anything strong or good was to be done. As to Panurge,\nhe began to cry and howl at the top of his voice. \"_Boo! boo! boo!_\nThis is a worse business than that of the other day,\" he blubbered,\nshrugging up his shoulders and shivering in his fright. \"That frightful\nthing over there is the horrid Leviathan Job spoke of! I am sure he is\ncoming to swallow us all up, ships, sails, men and all, like so many\npills. Ah! friends, let's escape the monster. The land is near; let us\ngo on shore!\"\n\n\"Panurge,\" said Pantagruel, turning round, \"all thou hast to do is to\ntrust to me. Have no fear; I shall do its business presently.\"\n\n\"Oh, Your Highness knows well enough that I am never afraid except when\nthere is danger! _Boo! boo! boo!_\"\n\nWhile Panurge was whimpering, the monster had got fairly into the Greek\nY made by the fleet. It was the whale which began the fight. The moment\nit found itself inside the angle, and saw the ships on each side of it,\nit wheeled around and began to spout water by whole tons upon them.\nThen it was that the ships took up the war. They all set to work as\nthough they were mad, to hurl against the whale on every side arrows,\nspears, darts, javelins, and harpoons. Never had there been seen such a\nstorm of deadly weapons whistling through the air at one time.\n\nYou may be sure that Friar John did not spare himself.\n\nPanurge nearly died from fright.\n\n[Illustration: SHOOTING AT THE WHALE.]\n\nThe artillery belched out largest balls; but they didn't do the least\nharm. All they did was to strike the monster's tough, black hide and\nslant off. When he saw how so much good powder was being wasted,\nPantagruel thought it was high time for him to keep his promise to\nPanurge. He had, when a boy, a great name for throwing darts, javelins,\nand such missiles. There was not a man around the Royal Palace of\nUtopia who had not seen, more than once, his wonderful skill in\ndart-throwing; for, with his immense darts, which were so large that\nthey looked very much like the huge beams that support the bridges of\nNantes and Saumur and Bergerac, he used, standing a mile off, to open\nan oyster without breaking its shell; snuff a candle without putting it\nout; shoot a magpie in the eye; and he had even been known to turn over\nleaf after leaf of Friar John's breviary, and not tear one of them.\nPantagruel had already found out that there was a fine store of darts\nin the ship, and he ordered a good supply to be laid on the deck before\nhim. With the first dart, hurled with a mighty force, he struck the\nwhale so furiously in the head that he pierced both its jaws and its\ntongue, making one piece of the three.\n\n[Illustration: PANTAGRUEL TRIES HIS HAND.]\n\nThis was a great victory. The monster could not spurt any more.\n\nWith the second dart he put out its right eye.\n\nWith the third he put out its left.\n\nThen everybody began to crowd around to look in safety at the whale,\nwhich, if it had not been for the Giant's darts, might have ended in\ndrowning the whole fleet, but which was now rolling and staggering\nabout on the waves, stunned and blinded. The creature was still alive,\nand might yet do some harm; and so Pantagruel, who was watching every\nmovement, threw out a fourth dart, which struck it under the tail. Then\nthe giant began to hurl his darts, one after another, on each side of\nthe black hide, not wildly, but with the same care and skill with which\nhe had once turned the leaves of Friar John's breviary. Fifty darts\nstruck it on one side. Fifty darts more struck it on the other side.\nThis was too much for the monster. It turned on its greasy back, as all\ndead fishes do, and floated without motion, looking, with the beams and\ndarts upside down in the water, like a gigantic centipede crawling on\nthe sea, with the tips of its hundred feet just showing, every now and\nthen, above the surface of the waves.\n\n[Illustration: THE DEATH OF THE MONSTER.]\n\nJust as soon as the whale was seen to be floating, James Brayer\nshouted, \"A boat's crew, to bring yonder carcass to the island!\"\n\nIn a trice a boat manned by strong men, and filled with harpoons, was\ntowing the whale towards Wild Island. The Giant himself took no notice\nof all this; but, having seen from the deck a small deserted seaport\ntowards the south, he fixed on a fine, pleasant grove near it, as a\ngood place to pitch tent and have a gay time after their victory. Once\nthere, Friar John, who was near his side, at a word from the Giant,\nrang the bell for supper. Pantagruel took to eating cheerfully with his\nmen. Of a sudden, fierce cries were heard from the forest, a half mile\nor so back from the little grove.\n\n[Illustration: LANDING THE MONSTER.]\n\n\"What is that?\" asked Pantagruel of Xenomanes.\n\n\"Only the wild creatures, sir, who have given this Wild Island its\nname. Some say they are demons. By raising your head you may see them\nover the hill in yonder thicket.\"\n\n[Illustration: ON WILD ISLAND.]\n\nPantagruel, without further word, rushed from the table to scour the\nthicket. The whole company rose and followed him. It was not long\nbefore he had, with great strides, reached the top of the ridge, whence\nhe could see a dark line, unbroken, save here and there by black\nbanners, of gigantic forms half lost in the shadows of the thicket. The\nmoment the dark shapes saw Pantagruel on the ridge, they began to utter\nloud cries, and more than one mighty form stepped out from the line\nto threaten. But when Friar John, Xenomanes, and the rest appeared on\nthe ridge, a howl of defiance broke from the thicket. The dark masses\nseemed beside themselves with rage, and all at once the line was broken.\n\n\"By my faith,\" said Pantagruel, \"they are demons, Xenomanes! Look, they\nhave wings, and their wings are as black as their banners!\"\n\nThis was true. The dark masses had only broken so as to give themselves\nspace to raise their wings in triumph at seeing so many wretched\nmortals ready for destruction. Often and often had crews, thrown by\nshipwreck upon Wild Island, reached the shore and had never been heard\nof more.\n\n\"These are demons; bless us, Friar John,\" whispered Pantagruel. \"What\ncan sinful men do against them?\"\n\nAnd, even while saying this, and without knowing it, the prayerful\nGiant was making the Sign of the Cross.\n\nAt the sacred sign there was, of a sudden, a lifting of black banners.\nThen, with a flapping of heavy wings, a great stir of mighty bodies\nleaving the thickets and rising into the air; the dark masses came\nsweeping over the very ridge where Pantagruel was, on their way to the\nsea, casting a blacker shadow than the coming night, shrieking and\nwailing as they passed.\n\nFrom that blessed day, shipwrecked sailors have wandered in safety\nthrough the forest, and never met a demon.\n\nFor Wild Island is wild no more.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XLIII.\n\nWHICH TELLS OF SEVERAL ISLANDS, AND THE WONDERFUL PEOPLE WHO LIVED IN\nTHEM.\n\n\n[Illustration: Initial N.]\n\nNext day, having been favored with a fair wind all night, they stopped\nat the Island of Sadness, where all the people had once been very rich,\nbut were then very poor. Pantagruel found that nothing was to be seen\non such an island except fear, want, and misery. So he did no more\nthan step, for a few moments, into the church, near the harbor. On\ncoming out, he ordered that eighteen thousand royal gold pieces should\nbe given out for the relief of the poor people, and then he went on\nshipboard, not being willing to stay there any longer.\n\nLeaving this desolate island, a strong breeze sprang up, that brought\nthem, after one day, to the blessed Island of Papimany, where lived a\npeople so hospitable that some of them went every day to the port to\nsee if any strangers had come. As soon as anchor had been dropped,--in\nfact, even before the ship had been well-moored,--four chief men rowed\nout in a skiff to pay their respects to Pantagruel. On the strangers\ngoing ashore, men, women, and children marched to meet them in a\nprocession that reached from one end of the island to the other, and\ngave a welcome of cheers that lasted above a quarter of an hour.\n\n[Illustration: THE HOSPITABLE FOLK OF PAPIMANY.]\n\nIn the midst of all this joy, the school-master of the place, anxious\nthat his boys should miss no chance of seeing what was for their good,\ncame up with all his teachers, ushers, and school-boys, to show them,\nwith their own eyes, a Giant so tall and renowned as Pantagruel. After\nwhich, in order to keep the lads from ever forgetting what they had\nseen, the chief school-master threw off his gown and went to work in a\nhurry to give each of them a sound thrashing. This displeased the Giant\nso greatly that he shouted, \"If you do not leave off whipping those\npoor children, I shall go at once.\" In his fright at this great voice\nbooming so high up in the air, the chief school-master dropped his rod\nwith one hand, and, with his other, the poor little fellow whose turn\nhad just come, while all the boys, big and little--those who had had\ntheir whipping, as well as those who hadn't had it--crowded around the\ngood Giant's big feet to thank him.\n\nAt this moment the Mayor rode up on a mule with green trappings, and\ncarried Pantagruel and his party off to dinner. Nothing could be finer\nthan the feasting of this good people; but Pantagruel, anxious to\ncatch the good wind which was then springing up, only stayed for this\ngrand dinner. Before leaving, he had his men to bring on shore nine\npieces of cloth of gold, which he presented to his entertainers; filled\nthe poor-box of the church with gold; scattered sweetmeats among the\nchildren; and ordered much money to be given to the servants who had\nwaited on them at table.\n\n[Illustration: THE MAYOR RODE UP.]\n\nOut at sea once more, they sailed on for several days without incident.\nOne day, however, when they were at table eating, drinking, and telling\nstories, Pantagruel went on deck to look at the sea. After looking out\na while, he began to turn his great ears towards the sky, and it was\nthen he called out, \"Do you hear nothing, gentlemen? It seems to me\nsome people are talking above us, yet I can see no one. Listen!\" So the\nwhole company got up from the table, ran on deck, and set to cocking up\ntheir eyes and clapping their hands to their ears; but all would not\ndo; they could neither see nor hear anything. Pantagruel, standing with\nhis eyes still looking up, continued to hear the voices. At last some\nsharp-eared fellow cried, \"I think I hear _something_.\" Then, all at\nonce, every man on board began to cry out that he could plainly hear\nvoices of men and neighing of horses; but, as nothing could be seen,\neverybody was mightily frightened, and Panurge worse than all. Nothing\nwould do him but to beg Friar John to stay by him, saying that they\nwere all undone, and that there was no fooling with the devil. \"We are\nundone,\" he whimpered. \"Just listen to those guns. Let's flee! There\nare our sails and oars; why can't we use them? I never was brave at\nsea; not that I am afraid! Oh, no! for I fear nothing but danger, that\nI don't! We are all dead men; Set off! set off!\"\n\n[Illustration: ENTERING THE FROZEN SEA.]\n\nPantagruel, hearing all this noise, called out, without turning about,\n\"Who talks of fleeing? Let us see, rather, who these people may be;\nthey may be friends. I can discover nothing, though I can see, with my\neyes, a hundred miles around.\" Just then, James Brayer came up, as\nif he had something important on his mind, and said, \"Have no fear,\nmy lord; I can make all this clear. We are on the confines of the\nFrozen Sea. At the beginning of last winter, a great and bloody battle\nwas fought not far from here. Then the words and shouts of the men;\nthe hacking and clashing of battle-axes; the jostling of armor: the\nneighing of horses, and all the noise and din of battle, froze in the\nair; and now, the winter being over, and the summer having come, all\nthese sounds have melted, and we can hear them.\"\n\nPantagruel, who at first had thought it to be witchcraft, which he\nhated above all things, of a sudden cried out, \"Why, sure enough, here\nare some tumbling down that are not yet thawed!\"\n\n[Illustration: A SHOWER OF FROZEN WORDS.]\n\nHe then threw on deck a handful of what seemed to be rough sugar-plums,\nbut which were, in fact, frozen words. Everybody--even Panurge, who,\nby this time had plucked up heart, on hearing what James Brayer had\nsaid--ran here and there, picking up the sugar-plums. Pantagruel was\nsure that he had never seen, in all his travels, anything quite so odd\nas these sugar-plums; for many of them melted almost before he could\nthrow them down, leaving his hand all wet with water; while his ears\nwere stunned from below by the awful shouts and groans of men, the\nwhistling of bullets, the heavy boom of cannon, and the wild, shrill\nneighing of war-horses, which all came out as those queer sugar-plums\nmelted on deck.\n\n[Illustration: LANDING ON THE ROCKS.]\n\nThe next day Pantagruel went ashore on a rugged, craggy, barren island,\nwhere cocks are never heard to crow, and where lived Gaster, the first\nMaster of Arts in the world. Being himself a scholar, he wanted to\nmake the acquaintance of the First Master of Arts. He found him a most\nwonderful and despotic old king, who talked with every one by signs,\nfor he could not hear, having been born without ears. Gaster never\nbothered himself for anybody's comfort or convenience but his own, and\nPantagruel soon noticed that no one ever tried to reason with him.\nAt his smallest sign, all present, whether courtiers or foreigners,\nanxiously inquired what was his will, and hurried off, running\nthemselves out of breath, and knocking each other over in their hurry\nto do what he wanted. Pantagruel watched Master Gaster very closely,\nin order to see if he deserved his great name for learning. He was not\nlong in finding out that the old glutton, being a great lover of corn,\nhad invented machines for cultivating it, and many mills for grinding\nit fine and white; also recipes for baking it into delicious loaves and\ncakes, for Master Gaster made signs that nothing put him into a greater\npassion than heavy bread. He also had a knowledge of many curious arts\nthat he had studied out for the preservation of his beloved corn,--such\nas keeping the rain up in the air, and how to coax it down just at\nthe time it was wanted; also a way to destroy the hail, and prevent\nthe winds from blowing, and to crush the storms, and a thousand other\nwonderful things.\n\n[Illustration: MASTER GASTER.]\n\nMaster Epistemon was greatly interested in all these fine inventions,\nand prevailed upon Pantagruel to stay much longer than he wished, for\nthis First Master of Arts, with all his wisdom, had very rude manners.\nPantagruel, not being very skilful, as we already know, in talking by\nsigns, got so tired after a while that he couldn't put up with it any\nlonger; so he turned his broad back upon the greedy old man, and gave\nthe order to go on board.\n\nNot long after they were under way the wind fell, so that there was\nnot a capful in all the sails of the fleet. Pantagruel's ship could\nhardly get along, although James Brayer kept tacking all the time.\nEverybody was put out of sorts by this accident, and moped about,\nscarcely speaking a word to each other. Pantagruel nodded over his book\non the quarter-deck; Panurge idly played with a piece of rope, pulling\nit about with his teeth; while Friar John marched off to the pantry,\nto see what the cook might be doing. After two or three hours in the\ngalley, here came Friar John, puffing and blowing, to Pantagruel,\nupstairs. Finding him awake, he asked:--\n\n\"Will Your Highness be so kind as to tell us how a man can kill time\nand raise a good wind at sea?\"\n\nPantagruel gave a yawn, and said, half-laughing, \"A good dinner will\nkill time quicker than anything else, as you, my good Friar John,\nbetter than most men, know. Have dinner served! Maybe the wind will\ncome with the dinner.\"\n\nFriar John needed no second hint. It was the good Friar's boast that\nhe knew and loved the ceremonies of the kitchen much better than he\ndid those of the court. So, at these words, he hurried downstairs, and\nsoon marched in at the head of the stewards, cup-bearers, and carvers,\nwho bore four stately meat-pasties. At the sight of these fine viands\nall the mouths began to water, and they were soon deep in feasting and\ndrinking.\n\n[Illustration: THE ISLE OF GANABIM.]\n\nWhile they were thus passing their time merrily, and making up riddles\nfor Pantagruel to guess, the dull weather also passed away; and, the\nbreeze having freshened, with full sails set, they were soon making\nup for the time they had lost. Not long after, they came in sight\nof a high land, which Pantagruel, first discovering, pointed out to\nXenomanes, and asked him:--\n\n\"What is that high rock yonder, with two tops?\"\n\n\"That, Your Highness, is the Island of Ganabim. The people who live\nthere are all thieves. Yet there is on the top of that very mountain a\nfountain worth seeing, since it is the finest fountain in the world.\nDoes Your Highness wish to go on shore?\"\n\n\"Ho! not I,\" replied Pantagruel; \"but, for the honor of the finest\nfountain in the world, we ought to give a salute as we pass.\" As the\nflag-ship came just in front of the rock the gunner fired. At once, the\ngunners of the other ships gave, every one, a gun to the island, which\nmade so mighty a noise that it seemed as if the sky was about tumbling\ndown in thunder.\n\n[Illustration: SHARP ISLAND.]\n\nThe next day they sighted Sharp Island, an unhealthy country, with\nrocks shooting up in an ugly way everywhere through the barren soil.\nThe pilot pointed out two cube-shaped rocks that were so white they\nmight have been taken for alabaster. He said they were filled with\ndemons and caused more wrecks, both of men and goods, than the famous\nScylla and Charybdis. Of course, the flag-ship and all the fleet\nsteered far out to sea in passing Sharp Island.\n\nSailing four days, toward nightfall of the last day, they came near the\nfairy-like shores of Lanternland. For leagues around the sea seemed\ntwinkling with fires, that gave a tremulous sparkle, or, darting up\ninto bright light, hovered a while over the water, and then would be\nlost, only to be found again shining nearer and brighter than before.\nJames Brayer said that the whole coast was planted with light-houses.\nXenomanes confirmed this, adding, that \"there was no port in the world\nequal to those of Lanternland, and no coast where the piloting was so\nsafe.\"\n\n[Illustration: THE SHORES OF LANTERNLAND.]\n\nHere they stopped for a day, and were received with great friendship\nby the Queen of that country. Pantagruel was greatly vexed that he\ncould not speak the Lantern language, so as to talk with Her Majesty;\nbut, Panurge, who understood it just as well as he did his maternal\nFrench, acted as his interpreter. After supping with Her Majesty in\nthe royal banquet hall, Pantagruel asked whether he had reached the\nisland too late to be in time for their great Annual Fair. He was told\nthat the Fair was already over; and he then acquainted the Queen with\nthe purpose of his voyage, and prayed her to grant him a guide to the\nKingdom of India. Of course the Queen was greatly interested when she\nheard that it was love for the bright little Princess of India which\nhad brought a Giant so great a distance. She promised all he asked, and\nassured him that he should have her own particular guide--the best in\nall Lanternland--to go with them the next morning.\n\n[Illustration: THE QUEEN OF LANTERNS.]\n\nPantagruel, after saluting Her Majesty with such majestic grace as\nbecame so stately a prince, withdrew, followed by his friends, to take\nsome rest. The next day, having first seen that their guide was on\nboard, they took their leave, amid the glad cheers and huzzas of the\ngood Lanternists, who vowed that, if they had only stopped one more\nnight, they would have made such a blaze along the coast as would have\nlighted them half-way to India.\n\nEvery story must have its ending.\n\nAnd the ending of this story is that the good Prince Pantagruel, led by\nhis guide from Lanternland, first passed over the Caspian mountains in\nsearch of his charming Princess; then defied the Cannibals; conquered\nthe Island of Pearls; and, at last, after reaching India, married the\nlovely daughter of King Prestham of that land.\n\nTo tell the story of the supper which good King Gargantua had promised\nto give Pantagruel, and which was to equal that of King Ahasuerus, and\nof the great and valorous deeds of Pantagruel, after his marriage,\nwould make a history much more wonderful than what you have just read.\nBut this is a part of his life which the Wise Man--who so loved the\nthree good Giants, GRANDGOUSIER, GARGANTUA, and PANTAGRUEL--promised to\nwrite, but never did.\n\n\nTHE END.","title":"Three Good Giants: Whose Ancient Deeds are recorded in the Ancient Chronicles","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":54588}