"_In those days there were giants._" Those days were the days when our
mother was a young lady, and, as we devoutly believe, the most beautiful
woman of her period; when our father's side-whiskers were glossy black;
when he wore his hat just a _leetle_ bit on one side, and when they
twain used now and then to go forth magnificently arrayed after the
lamps were lit, to balls and parties, whilst we little ones sat up in
our white beds to receive the parting kiss and injunction flavored with
blessings and _eau de cologne_. In those days, we repeat, there were
giants. Giants in our story-books, giants in our young imaginations,
mere suckers from the parent stem of the story-books, but terrible in
their proportions. There were giants, too, in our narrow path, springing
out of our waywardness and evil passions, and the evil passions of
others; there were giants, too, on the road to knowledge; oh, such
monstrous giants all of them, far bigger and fiercer than any we ever
met in after life. But there was another giant of a far different sort,
who used to make his appearance at our little parties about
Christmas-time, and in sustaining whose character we have over and over
again sweltered and staggered and suffered martyrdom the most terrible.
Still he was a pleasant giant (particularly to the upper-story boy), and
welcome to the whole company. He had a very youthful look, in spite of
his ferocious moustache; his hat had a tendency to drop over his eyes
and his gait was erratic; though his proportions inspired awe in the
hearts of the tiny portion of the audience. We have but rarely met this
gentleman in later days, partially, we fancy, from a difficulty in
procuring legs; we have observed a growing disinclination in persons to
perform these members; indeed, we have ourself shrunk several times from
the task. It is, indeed, an ordeal rather severe, after partaking
heartily of Christmas dinner, and, perhaps, generously of wine, to walk
about a hot room with a warm boy on your shoulders, and your entire
person--head, face, and all--enveloped in a heavy cloak or overcoat, and
not a breath of fresh air to be taken under penalty of _spoiling the
giant_.
A small and cool boy is placed on the shoulders of a man or boy who is
stout in the legs; a long military cloak or overcoat is thrown over the
two, and the monster is made. You can embelish him with moustaches, a
hat, and a long walking-cane, and then you will have the creature
complete, as represented in the picture opposite.
[Illustration: HOW TO MAKE A GIANT.--_See page 112._]