HOW THE FIRST GIANTS CAME INTO THE WORLD

At the beginning of the world the pure blood of Abel, shed by his wicked brother Cain, made the soil very rich. Every fruit seemed to grow that year to a dozen times its usual size. But the fruit that seemed to thrive best, and to taste most toothsome, and to be most eaten, was the medlar. So much of that fruit was eaten at that particular time that the year came to be called the "Year of Medlars."

Now, in this "Year of Medlars," the good men and women who lived then happened to eat a little too much of this fine fruit. It was all very nice while it was being eaten; but, somehow, after a little time it was found that terrible swellings, but not all in the same place, came out on those who had shown themselves too fond of the fruit.

Some grew big and twisted in their shoulders, and became what were afterwards called Hunch-backs.

Some found themselves with longer legs than others, which, being quite as thin and bony as they were long, made malicious people, who had not eaten of the fruit, shout, "Crane! Crane! Long-legged Crane!" whenever one of the poor people showed himself.

Some there were who could boast of a nose as red as it was long and knotty, which made evil-tongued men say they had been more among the grapes than among the medlars. But this was, after all, the fault of the medlars. There was no doubt of that.

Others, having a special love for picking out everybody's secrets, found their medlars running into big ears, which grew so long that they soon hung down to their breasts. And those who once had the Big Ear lost, after that, all desire for other people's secrets, because their ears were so large they caught everything bad their neighbors were always saying about them.

Others—and now, listen—grew long in legs, but not longer in legs than they grew stout in body, and it was from these people that the Giants sprang. When those who grew so long in legs and so stout in body began to walk on the earth, the neighbors did their best to please them. You may be sure there was no talk about medlars then.

The first who became known as a giant was called Chalbroth.

Chalbroth was the father of all the Giants, and the great-grandfather of Hurtali, who reigned in the time of the Deluge, and who was lucky enough not to be drowned in the deep waters.

Doubtless, the eyes of some of my young readers are twinkling, and they are ready to cry out very positively: "Oh, no! There was no Giant in Noah's Ark, you know. How could there be? Only Noah and his family were in the Ark. The Bible says that!"

There was one Wise Man, however, who lived a long time after the first Giant had appeared, and after many great ones had been noticed, and who had seen some with his own eyes. This Wise Man had thought, in a quiet way, a great deal about the Big People, and, through much study, had found out why it was they were not all drowned.

This Wise Man makes himself very clear on this point. He says that Hurtali—the great-grandson of Chalbroth, the first Giant—escaped the Deluge, not by getting into the Ark,—it was altogether too small for that,—but by getting outside of it. In other words, he used it as a man strides a horse, riding on top of it, with one huge leg hanging over the right side and the other over the left. If Hurtali was very heavy, the Blessed Ark was very stout. He got so used to his seat after a while, that, being on the outside, and able to see everything around him, he made his long legs do for the Ark just what the rudder of a ship does for her. He must have saved it from many and many a rough shock against jutting mountains and sharp rocks as the waters were rising, and as, after covering the earth, they began to sink lower and lower; but it may be relied on—since the Wise Man says so—that, during the forty days and nights, Giant Hurtali was on the best of terms with Noah and all his family. This might look strange; but it appears that there was on the top of the Ark a chimney, and it was through this chimney that Hurtali could always, for the asking, have his share of his favorite pottage handed up to him.

It would really be of no use to tell the names of all the Giants who came between Hurtali and our merry old King Grandgousier. Some of them you already know. Long after Hurtali came Goliath, the Giant, whom young David slew with his sling and stone; Briareus, the Greek Giant of a hundred hands; King Porus, the Indian Giant, who fought with Alexander, and was defeated by him; and the famous Giant Bruyer, slain by Ogier the Dane, Peer of France. There are so many of them that I would soon grow tired of giving, and you of hearing, even their names. All that we care about knowing is that, in a straight line from Hurtali, the Giant who rode on the Blessed Ark, the fifty-fourth was Grandgousier, who was the father of Gargantua, who, in his turn, was the father of Pantagruel.

These are the three Giants whose story I am about to tell, two of whom will prove more wonderful heroes than are to be read of either in ancient or modern history.