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THE GIANT
215

tiful one. He will be good, clever, and strong, like the Giant, such a strong, clever man, and everybody will love him, and everybody will love him, and everybody will look at him and be glad. There will be sorrow in his life,—every man meets sorrow,—but there will be joys also, great, shining like the sun. He will enter the world, fair and intelligent, and the blue sky will shine over his head, and birds will sing songs to him, and brooks will murmur gently. And he will look at it all and say: How wonderful the world is. . . how wonderful the world is. . .

—This is impossible. I hold you, my little boy, firmly and tenderly, tenderly. Are you afraid of the dark here? Look, it is light in the window. There is a lantern in the street; it stands over there and gives light. Is it not funny? To us also it gives some light, the dear lantern. It said to itself: let me give them also a little bit of light; it is so dark there, so dark. . . Such a tall, funny lantern. To-morrow, too, it will be shining, to-morrow! Lord, to-morrow!

—Yes, yes, yes. The Giant. Sure, sure. Such a huge, huge Giant. Bigger than a lantern, than a steeple, and how funny he is: came and fell down. Oh you stupid Giant, how did it happen that you did not notice the stairs?—"I was looking up, and did not see them," says the Giant in a deep voice, you know, in a deep, deep, voice, way down,—"I was looking up." You had better look down, you stupid Giant, then you would be able to see. My Sasha is so dear, so dear and clever; he will grow even bigger than you are. And then he will walk straight over the city, right over woods and mountains; he will be so strong and brave; he will be afraid of nothing, of nothing at all. If he comes to a river, he steps right over it. Everybody looks at him. People open their mouths. . . but he steps right straight over it. And his life will be so big, and brilliant, and beautiful. And the sun will shine, the dear darling sun. It will come out in the morning and shine, such a darling sun. . . Lord! — — There he came, the Giant. . . and down he fell. Such a funny, funny,. . . Oh!. . . funny Giant.

Thus, late at night, a mother spoke to her dying boy. She was carrying him to and fro in the dark room, and she spoke. And the lantern shone in through the window, and in the next room the father listened to her words, and wept.