A TALE OF TWO GIANTS (Original fiction story from my grandmother Ella Burley)

A TALE OF TWO GIANTS

You have no doubt heard of the noisome breed of grim and grizzly giants who ravaged the fair land of Cornwall in days of yore, until Jack the Giant Killer put a timely end to them. However, none of these famous giants was grimmer, grizzlier, bigger or badder than Giant Grumblegrim who dwelt on the Isle of Thanet when it was still an island. He was not really a giant at all, but two giants, and this is how it befel.
Once upon a time the fair land of Kent was sorely troubled by two giants who were brothers, or two brothers who were giants, which really comes to the same thing if you think about it long enough. Their names were Grumblegrim and Grimbleglum, Grim and Glum for short, since they were always getting mixed up with one another. Now, these two very nasty giants lived all alone in a tumbledown, crumbledown castle on top of a chalk cliff. It was no great problem for giants to cross over to the mainland, since they were so tall they could easily wade across the sea and climb the white cliffs at a bound whenever they felt in need of a little sport or recreation. They lived by themselves for two reasons; firstly because they were so ugly that nobody could bear to look at them, and secondly, because they lived exclusively on a diet of fair maidens, which did not endear them to their neighbours.
As they were always on their own and had nothing special to do when they were not abroad hunting for maidens, who were vecoming very scarce, they sometimes felt veryt lonely, as well as very hungry. “Brother Glum,” said Giant Grim to his brother, “I am very hungry”. “So what? so am I.” replied his brother, “let us watch the sunset,” said Giant Glum -for, television not having been invented then, they had nothing else to watch. They gaped at the watery sunset half-heartedly, and then Giant Glum heaved a gigantic sigh. “If only there were someone to boil an egg for one,” he lamented. “I don’t quite fancy raw eggs, even if I do occasionally consume a raw maiden.” “Brother Grim, do you think you could find it in you to learn how to cook?”. “No, I don’t think I could learn how to cook” he answered testily. “My brain is so damp that I find it hard to learn anything at all these days. We had better put on our seven-league boots and go hunting for maidens on the mainland”. “But there are no maidens left there” grumbled Giant Glum. “We have already eaten them all, there is only old Mother Meg left, and she is far too ancient and tough for dainty giants like us.” The two brothers sat down once more and continued gaping at the sunset, which had already fizzled out behind masses of rain and sea water. They sat there thoughtfully, each one hoping the other would come up with some intelligent idea - till Brother Grim leaped up all of a sudden. “I’ve got it!” he bellowed. We shall marry a wife!”.
ver donde va esto “Brother Grim, do you hear something?” asked Glum. “Yes,” replied his brother. “Something like a scraping and grinding on the face of the cliff - let us investigate... It might be burglars.”
So they went stealthily into their ruined castle and climbed to the top where the roof had been and peeped down cautiously from the battlements.
But they didn’t have time to put their good resolution into practice, for round the bend of the cliff they heard a puffing and blowing sound approaching, which eventually materialised into old Mother Meg preceded by an enourmous basket. “Good evening,” said the giants in unison, as was their custom when they had something of imporance to impart. “Good evening giants,” puffed Mother Meg still short of breath. “I have only brought you 80 eggs instead of the usual 100. The weather is inclement, and the hens aren’t laying. “Glumph!” muttered giant Glum gloomily. “That is sad indeed. You had better leave the hens, then we can eat them instead..” “I would gladly do so,” puffed Mother Meg, but you are such lazy and stupid giants that you would probably eat them raw, feathers, beak and all, so I brought you a cooked hen.” “That is not enough for us”, objected the giants. “We shall get married instead.” “But not to me, I trust” said Mother Meg rudely, “I would never take a couple of dirty, uncouth giants like you.” The giants were tough-skinned, and did not take offence at the rebuff. “Then we shall marry your beautiful daughter mistress Peg.” It did not strike them as strange that the old crone did not fall down in a swoon at this news, but they had very small brains and had forgotten that Mother Meg had no daughter Peg, but only some sort of an ancestor of that name. “Well” went on Mother Meg, “you must be fitted out for marriage, ant then prepare for a long and hazardous journey underground, for my Peg lives beneath the earth.” “That’s why we were going to bathe in the sea, have a nice bath!” they said with a grin. “Good, then you must come to meet your tailor. He will measure for a new suit.”
Now, the giants were not fond of tailors, for they had heard that they had a very short way with giants, particularly if they were brave young little tailors. So they trotted down tho the sea to have their bath and think about it. But they were soon back at Mother Meg’s heels, driven by curiosity. “Is it really possible for two such as us to travel underground?” they asked. “Yes, for a reasonable, if not moderate fee. But you must wait for Master Coffin to deliver your suit” went on old Meg, chuckling to herself. It had certainly been a long time since they had seen Mistress Peg! she mused. “Well, I must say you look a little cleaner now”, she said out loud, but those smelly old sheep skins won’t do at all, so the tailor will take your measurements and tomorrow you will have your suits. Then I shall make arrangements for your trip under the earth.”
“But can that really be managed?” they asked their future mother-in-law. “It can be done,” continued the old crone looking crafty. “I shall leave it in the hands of Master Coffin the tailor, who is also an undertaker.” “And what may that be?” queried the stupid giants. “Why, you silies, he is the one who takes you under, of course, or to put it more simply, who undertakes you. so off you go to Master Coffin your tailor and undertaker all in one. He can also fashion a conveyance to take you under.” “Very well” mumbled giant Glum, “bring him along and let him start.”
Master Coffin was a small man dressed all in black, wearing a topi hat and carrying a rolled umbrella. He was a small man even for a human, and he had to put a chair on top of a table and then and a wobly ladder which he balanced on the top in order to reach the giants’ heads. When he finished he had to hunt in his pockets for a pencil and paper and an adding machine, for there were a lot of sums to be done, because the tape measure was not nearly long enough for giants, so they had to be measured in sections, which had to be added up at the end and divided by two.
As for Mother Meg, she was still working out how long ago it must have been since the giants had seen her relative, for they had clearly forgotten that she had no daughter, and that Mistress Peg had been none other than the old woman’s great grandmother, who had been dead and buried for over 150 years or more. However, the giants were not nearly clever enough to work this out, for they really had no memory at all - even between the two of them, and they were not quite sure whether they had seen Mistress Peg yesterday, last week, or 200 years ago. They had thought she was quite pretty, but must have been thinking of someone else. Mother Meg chuckled to herself. “Well, well, she would certainly make a wife good enough for a couple of seedy giants.”
Out loud, she said to the giants, “You will get there all right, but will have great trouble in winning her.” “Why so? we are very clever giants, and very handsome giants and very rich giants, even if we haven’t got a roof to our castle; but that only makes it the more valuable, since it is a ruin, and ruins are much in demand these days. Besides which, any maiden who wedded us would be quite safe from being eaten up - that is, if she knew how to boil eggs. “Hee hee” mocked the old woman, “but if you would have my darling daughter to wife, you would have to take the dangerous journey under the ground. “You mean underground”, like moles?” asked the giants who were (as far as they could) thinking deeply. There ensued an argument between the two brothers as to who should have the privilege of travelling first, and since they could not come to an agreement, they decided to toss for it. “All right then,” said Giant Grim producing a coin from the folds of his old sheep skin. “Heads I go, tails you stay.” He handed the coin to Mother Meg while shouting “heads it is!” pocketing the coin as soon as she could so the giants would not snatch it back. so they were none the wiser than before, and having spent their last penny, they wandered down to the sea front once more to watch the waves and paddle in the rock pools. “Heads it is” shouted Mother Meg once more and Giant Grimble hopped into the box as nimbly as he could lest his brother should beat him to it.
“Heads it is” she shouted again, but his head stuck out like a very large, leafy cabbage. “That will never do,” complained Master Coffin, biting his nails. “I have never taken anybody under the ground with his head sticking out.” “Why, how could I nail the lid down?” “That is very easily remedied” cried Mother Meg glibly. “Have you a hatchet handy, Giant glum?” “That I have” replied the giant with alacrity, who was anxious to see his brother off as quickly as possible, in order to be undertaken himself; and he shuffled off to fetch a very large double-edged axe which they kept hanging on the wall in case of burglars. “Now, you just lie very still Giant Grimble,” coaxed Mother Meg, “and your kind brother will help you to fit into the conveyance.”
The giant, being very impatient to meet his bride, did as he was told, whereupon Giant Glumble swung the axe with the little strength he had left, which was still enough to cleave Giant Grimble’s head from his body at one stroke. He stood gaping stupidly at his brother’s head, wondering how he was ever going to get it on again. But Master Coffin was not idle, and, working busily with his hammer, soon had the lid nailed down - but not too securely. Giant Glum spent little grief over his headless brother. He merely spruced himself up as far as was possible and hastened down to the front of the castle where Mother Meg was about to let the portcullis down. He certainly didn’t want to be left on the wrong side when his brother -head or no head- had already gone. It might be said that he galloped his way to the front of the castle, where Mother Meg was still winding away at the portcullis, when he stepped on a rotten egg and fell in the right position required of him, his neck right under the down sliding portcullis. Mother Meg kept winding away, put on the speed, and bang came down the murderous gate chopping Giant Glum’s head off, just as neatly as he had done for his brother and partner in iniquity -and that was the end of the Kentish giants, who had been such pests.
It is not quite certain where these two pests were buried, if at all. But some people still admit to having seen ancient headstones along the coast of Kent which were hard to read, so much had they been battered by the sea. It seemed to be generally accented that some of these were all that remained of Giant Grumblegrim. while others read “Trimbletrim” or “Grumblegrim”. Be that as it may, people nowadays do not believe in giants, for they do not exist, so this tale may be taken as an allegory by any who have the patience to read this tale.
Though we have no giants, we do have many miscreants - not necessarily in the land of Kent, but over the whole planet. We have drug pushers, stranglers, rapists, kidnappers, gangsters and many etcs., are dealt with by methods analagous to those meted out to the giants if not so crude.

Ella Burley