The Giant Hands

ap-pear-ed as if he had got the great fo-rest all to him-self. When he had col-lect-ed a suf-fi-ci-en-cy of dri-ed leaves to-ge-ther to make his rest-ing place soft-er, he pre-par-ed to lie down, when, to his as-to-nish-ment and de-light, he be-held the gi-gan-tic hands spread them-selves over him, with the fin-gers en-twin-ed, ma-king for him the most per-fect lit-tle tent in the world. How his heart bound-ed with gra-ti-tude to-wards the good fai-ry hands, as he felt how safe-ly he might in-dulge in his slum-bers be-neath such pro-tec-tion! "Thank you a-gain, good hands," said he, "for your kind care of me; but be-fore I say my pray-ers, can-not you, since you are so pow-er-ful, tell me some-thing of my dear mo-ther-whe-ther she is more con-so-led, and whe-ther she has food to eat?" "Good Wil-lie," re-plied a voice, "your mo-ther knows that you will be pro-tect-ed, as all good chil-dren are; and she has food, for she is in-dus-tri-ous; her hands were giv-en to her from my king-dom, in which no i-dle hands are ever made, as you shall know from me here-af-ter. Sleep, then, in peace, that you may rise pre-pa-red for la-bour on the com-ing morn." So Wil-lie slept.