Within the tree a long rope
Hangs from the top to bottom,
With this the monsters strangle
When by the neck you’ve got ’em.

You'll have an hour exactly—
From twelve o'clock till one ;
But do not tarry later,
Or you for life must run!

Make holes above their bed-head,
And lay the hidden rope

All ready to cast over,
With slumberers to cope;

And mind you bring your jackass,
He will assistance lend

When you may wish for pressure
At the rope’s other end.

Prepare some old straw rubbish,
The hollow tree to smoke :
To fumigate the monsters
Will prove a pleasing joke !

Wait till the clock has struck one,
And you will find them snoring ;
As ‘tis the Giant’s birthday,
Of liquor he'll take more in.’

Jack was a lad of spirit,
But seems to hesitate :
To kill a pair of giants,
And also find a mate,
Is rather an adventure
For older hands than he ;
But yet he thinks he'll do it—
He loves a jolly spree.

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He found the pot of treacle,
And in the two jars placed it;
Too heavy for to carry,
He by the long rope raised it.

He cut the bark asunder,
Above the giants’ bed,

And very thin he found it
At that part of the shed.

‘And now my work is over
I think I’ll have some fun.’
Hark! voices not far distant!
And lo! the clock strikes one !

He had but just escaped out
When in the giants walk!

A moment more they'd caught him
And ate him. Hear them talk.

The giantess is hungry—
‘Again I smell that smell
Of blood so young and tender,

I know its flavour well ;

‘Say, love, there’s some for dinner,
That cooking you have some:
In fancy I can taste it,
So jolly, fee-fo-fum.’

’Tis past the hour of midnight,
The clocks have all struck one,

And, save Jack and his jackass,
In bed’s each mother’s son.

It was a blusterous morning,
Had been a dreadful night,
The rain descends in torrents,
Jack has his way to fight.
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