PAGE 5
The Pumpkin Giant
by
“What is it smells so utterly lovely?” exclaimed the King, sniffing in a rapture.
He sent his page in to see.
“The housewife is baking Giant’s head pies,” said the page returning.
“What?” thundered the King. “Bring out one to me!”
So the page brought out a pie to him, and after all his knights had tasted to be sure it was not poison, and the king had watched them sharply for a few moments to be sure they were not killed, he tasted too.
Then he beamed. It was a new sensation, and a new sensation is a great boon to a king.
“I never tasted anything so altogether superfine, so utterly magnificent in my life,” cried the king; “stewed peacocks’ tongues from the Baltic, are not to be compared with it! Call out the housewife immediately!”
So Daphne came out trembling, and Patroclus and AEneas also.
“What a charming lad!” exclaimed the King as his glance fell upon AEneas. “Now tell me about these wonderful pies, and I will reward you as becomes a monarch!”
Then Patroclus fell on his knees and related the whole history of the Giant’s head pies from the beginning.
The King actually blushed. “And I forgot to knight you, oh noble and brave man, and to make a lady of your admirable wife!”
Then the King leaned gracefully down from his saddle, and struck Patroclus with his jeweled sword and knighted him on the spot.
The whole family went to live at the royal palace. The roses in the royal gardens were uprooted, and Giant’s heads (or pumpkins, as they came to be called) were sown in their stead; all the royal parks also were turned into pumpkin-fields.
Patroclus was in constant attendance on the King, and used to stand all day in his ante-chamber. Daphne had a position of great responsibility, for she superintended the baking of the pumpkin pies, and AEneas finally married the Princess Ariadne Diana.
They were wedded in great state by fifty archbishops; and all the newspapers united in stating that they were the most charming and well matched young couple that had ever been united in the kingdom.
The stone entrance of the Pumpkin Giant’s Castle was securely fastened, and upon it was engraved an inscription composed by the first poet in the kingdom, for which the King made him laureate, and gave him the liberal pension of fifty pumpkin pies per year.
The following is the inscription in full:
“Here dwelt the Pumpkin Giant once,
He’s dead the nation doth rejoice,
For, while he was alive, he lived
By e—-g dear, fat, little boys.”
The inscription is said to remain to this day; if you were to go there you would probably see it.