Every one who knew Tiny Thumbcake loved him. He was one of eleven brothers and sisters, and the smallest mite that was ever born in the land of the cornstalk.
Tiny, though very diminutive in body, was nevertheless a hardy fellow who could run and jump like a kangaroo; moreover, he possessed the gift of knowing the language of all animals and birds, and these nicknamed him “Hop-o’-my-thumb.”
The Thumbcakes were poor people, and Tiny, who loved the wild bush, determined to try his fortune as a pioneer squatter. In conversation with an old wallaby, who used to pay him periodical visits, Tiny learned that there was a vast district owned by a giant aborigine named “Slubber,” where no white man had ever been and which was supposed by everybody to be a dreary wilderness without river, or lake, or anything to sustain life in the way of game. Tiny Thumbcake, or as we shall call him, Hop-o’-my-thumb, was both surprised and delighted at the news imparted to him by the wallaby—namely, that the Unknown Country, ruled over by Slubber the Giant, was both beautiful and fertile, and one of the finest climates under the Southern Cross.
And so in due time, guided by the faithful wallaby, our hero came to the country of Slubber, and took up his abode in a rich and well-watered valley, beside a high mountain, and here he formed a fine station for rearing cattle and sheep. For a whole year our little man remained hard at work unmolested.
One fine summer day a scarlet and green parrot alighted near where the little squatter was at work on his orchard fence.
“Good-day, Hop-o’-my-thumb,” said the bird.
“Good-day, my friend,” returned the wee man, politely raising his hat and bowing. “I’m glad to see you. What can I do for you, eh?”
“Nothing at present, thank you. I was sent by King Stork to warn you that Slubber the Giant is on his way here to destroy you,” answered the parrot.
Poor Hop-o’-my-thumb, though not wanting in pluck, became much disturbed at the news. “Are you quite certain of what you say?” he asked of the parrot.
“Oh, quite,” rejoined the messenger decidedly. “King Stork and the giant are great friends. He heard Slubber say that he would slay you or any white riff-raff who dared to set foot in his territory, and saw him start off straightway down the mountain to carry out his threat, therefore I posted off to warn you.”
“Thank you very much,” said poor Hop-o’-my-thumb. “Slubber is a big, selfish wretch. I have as much right to make a home here as he has, and I mean to show him I am not at all afraid of his bullying.”
“Bravo!” cried the parrot, flapping his wings in glee. “You’re a lad of mettle, and I’m glad you intend to try and take the blackfellow down a peg. Do you know, he is the most vile beast living and a great liar. Don’t trust him a bit. If he finds he cannot kill you with his huge waddy, or spear you unawares, he will want to parley with you, and take you on his knee, in friendly fashion. Be careful, Hop, my boy. Don’t let the wretch lay a finger on you, if you can help it”.
“Thank you, I’ll take every precaution,” said Hop-o’-my-thumb coolly.
“We all like you very much, my dear little Hop,” added the bird kindly; “what is more, we are determined to help you against Slubber if we can. Your friend Jack, the wallaby, is waiting behind yonder ridge, with some possum friends and one or two native bears, in case you need assistance. Hark! Do you hear that noise? That’s the giant; he hasn’t lost much time on the road. Look! Yonder he comes.”
Half way down the mountain-side a gigantic blackfellow, tall as a tree, and with a great woolly head (not unlike the big ball that is hoisted at noon on the flagstaff at the Observatory), came thundering down the stony ridges in tremendous leaps and bounds, and at the same time roaring out a hoarse shout of vengeance. He was quite nude, save for a segment of covering round his middle, and he brandished aloft a monstrous waddy, which was large enough to have felled an elephant.
“Where is that insignificant rascal who has dared to enter the domain of Slubber?” cried the angry monster, striding into the valley and confronting our hero, who did not flinch in the least before his dreaded enemy.
“Now, mite, what hast thou to say ere I slay thee?” cried the giant, at the same time whirling his club round his head with a noise like thunder.
“Try it,” said Hop-o’-my-thumb, keenly watching every movement of his adversary.
“ ‘THOU ART VERY STRONG FOR SO SMALL A MAN.’ ”
“Insolent atom, take that,” and Slubber aimed a blow at the little fellow, which if it had taken effect would have crushed our hero into a pulp; but Hop-o’-my-thumb nimbly avoided the giant’s bludgeon, and getting between the monster’s legs, gave him a cut with a sharp adze he had been using, which made Slubber roar with pain. It might have gone hard with the brave wee squatter at this moment, for the giant, reaching down, was about to clutch his small assailant, when the parrot came to the rescue. He flew full butt against Slubber’s face and nearly blinded him, and Hop-o’-my-thumb, taking full advantage of the bird’s help, gave his ugly foe such a slashing about his legs that the giant fell broadcast on his back, which made the ground tremble like an earthquake.
Seeing the unexpected and stout resistance made by our little hero, Slubber the Giant was fain to call a parley.
“Thou art very strong for so small a man,” cried he ruefully, and at the same time rubbing his smarting shins. “What sayest thou, wilt thou do me a service? And in return thou and thine shall have this valley of sweet waters for thy pains, to do with it what ye will.”
“What is the service you want to be performed?” said Hop-o’-my-thumb.
“Come nearer, and I will tell thee.”
“No, not an inch,” cried the little fellow stoutly. “You are near enough, my friend. Tell me what I am to do. I can hear you.”
“Oh, very well,” responded Slubber sullenly. “Know, then, that I have a wife.”
“I wish I had one,” interrupted Hop-o’-my-thumb.
“Thou shalt have mine with pleasure,” retorted the giant quickly.
The little squatter laughed. “Nay,” he said, “it is against the law to take anything belonging to another. Well, you were saying you have a wife.”
“True, I have a wife and, I may add, one of the most inquisitive of her sex,” added the giant in quite a humble tone, which contrasted strangely with his previous bombast. “Know, then, O mite, King Stork propounded three riddles to my wife, each one full of mystery, and my life is plagued out of me day and night by her to find an answer to these problems. Now, if thou canst find the secret of these things the land is thine for all time.”
“What are the riddles?” inquired Hop-o’-my-thumb.
The giant reflected a moment and then replied,—
“The first is: What is the most wonderful animal in the world? Second: What shoemaker makes shoes without leather, but uses instead earth, water, air, and fire, and where each of his customers wears two pairs at a time? Third: What is seen in the sky, also in the water, and sometimes on men’s breasts which, being reversed, is the name for the very worst kind of vermin? Come now, O thou bull ant, canst thou explain these enigmas?”
Poor Hop-o’-my-thumb seemed dismayed for a moment. He wanted to conciliate the giant, but how was he to frame a reply to these three difficult questions? In the midst of his cogitations he bethought him of his friend the wallaby.
“If Slubber will give me a little time, I believe I can answer the questions,” said the little man with confidence. The giant assented readily.
Hop-o’-my-thumb, guided by the parrot, sought out the old wallaby, to whom he confided his trouble.
“Nothing easier, my boy,” said the animal, stroking his head with his paw. “A word in your ear. These riddles are the secrets of our King and must not be made known to every one.”
Then the old wallaby whispered what Hop-o’-my-thumb wanted to know, and the latter, smiling, went back to the giant Slubber.
“Well, hast thou the answers, mite?” he said.
“Oh yes,” replied our hero cautiously, “but how am I to know you will keep your word with me?”
The giant laughed. Then he lay full length upon the sward, and plucking a long hair from his beard laid it across his nose. “Will that condition satisfy you?” he said in a rage, for Slubber knew he dare not break that form of oath.
“Then,” said Hop-o’-my-thumb, “the most wonderful animal in the world is a pig; for it is first killed and then cured.”
“Good!” cried Slubber.
“The next,” continued Hop-o’-my-thumb, “is—What shoemaker makes shoes without leather? Why, a horseshoer, for he uses earth, air, water, fire, in shaping his wares, and each of his customers wears two pairs.”
“Bravo! Let me embrace you,” entreated the giant.
“No you don’t,” responded the little man, with a grin. “Now for your third question. What is seen in the sky, the water, and sometimes on men’s breasts? A star, of course. Reverse the spelling of star and it is rats. Are you satisfied?”
And Slubber, the black giant, wended his way home over the mountain again, a wiser man; and ever after Hop-o’-my-thumb lived in peace.