Cornish giant have never been ascertained
with precision, and Mr. Longchild, resolving
that no light should be cast on the matter
through a degenerate descendant of that
lamented race, sternly repelled attempts to
lure him from his solitude.

In furtherance of his general plan, he
made it his habit to ride after dark.
Many a belated rustic, though your
Cornishman is no heart-of-hare, felt a thrill of
astonished fear, as two mighty horsemen,
looming large in the rising mist, swept
heavily across his way. Small blame to
them! For Dick always bestrode his biggest
horse, and was followed by his groom—
a fellow seven feet high, mounted on an
animal quite up to his weight—and they
must have looked like Godfrey de Bouillon,
of Westminster, attending George the
Third, of Pall-Mall.

We were waited on, at dinner, by a butler
and two footmen, whose united length
must (I am afraid I shall hardly be
believed), have exceeded twenty feet.
Everything was on the like tremendous scale,
and Dick carried his singular hobby so far
as to eschew the small and delicate cates,
which, in his heart, he loved, in order to
dine off joints that might have satisfied
a bevy of aldermen.

When soup, a mighty turbot, a brace of
capons the size of Norfolk turkeys, and a
calf's-head, had been removed, there was
heaved upon the board a magnificent
haunch of venison.

"Harry, my good fellow," said my host,
in a tone of regretful apology, "I am afraid
you see your dinner."

I replied, with some alacrity, that I had
distinctly perceived it, half an hour ago.

"Nonsense!"

"It is true."

"Fie, fie!" said Dick, remorselessly
beginning to carve.

"If you were to add 'fo-fum,' in the
manner of your distinguished ancestors, I
should still tell you I can do no more."

"Now, see here," said Dick, in a reasoning
tone. "This will never do. Those
lighter matters were merely provocatives
and toys. (White burgundy, to Mr. Halsewell
in a chalice.) Taste that, my friend.
Then resume your weapons, and to your
duty, if you be a man."

"If I were twenty-five men, you should
not invite me twice. As it is, my appetite
is gone. It was hale, but not immortal.
It dwindled with the capon. It vanished
with the calf's-head."

"Well, well," said Dick, "the fault is
not ours. Let nature bear the blame of
her own degeneracy. How melancholy
to reflect that, at a period of dinner when
half a bullock, and a couple of hogs, would
have been dealt with by my forefathers as
a woodcock and a brace of larks, we cower
and quail before a miserable haunch!
Take away, and bring pitchers and pipes."

Two mighty claret-jugs, and some
Turkish pipes (of which the specimen
selected by Dick reached nearly to the
window), having been produced, the butler
placed a large carved box on the table,
between us, and withdrew.

"Help yourself," said my friend, pushing
the box, not without an effort, within my
reach. "My great-great-grandmother's
favourite snuff-box! She was nearly seven
feet high, large in proportion, and snuffed
inveterately. This box—chest, we should
now call it—lasted her two days. And now,
dear boy," he continued, "fill your pitcher,
and listen to me. Harry, you see before
you a miserable man."

"Go on."

"I tell my chosen friend that I am a
miserable man," said Mr. Longchild,
faintly, "and am simply requested to
'go on!'"

"Before I can sympathise with my
friend's sorrows, I must know them."

"Harry, I am in love."

"My good fellow!"

"You're such a devil of a distance off,"
said Dick, "that I can't shake hands with
you; else, for the sympathy expressed in
your tone, I would give you a grip you
should remember for a fortnight. Yes,
Harry, I love."

"Do so. Marry. And be happy."

"Harry, you know the upas-tree under
which it is my lot to dwell," rejoined Dick,
"and you bid me love, and marry."

"I don't positively insist upon your
doing either. It was only a hope, rather
let me say, an expectation; for I see that
your mind is made up."

"To the first, yes," said Dick, refilling his
immense pipe, and sending forth a volume of
smoke that almost obscured him, blushes
and all. "But fill your goblet. It was
towards the close of a sultry August day,
that a solitary horseman might have been
noticed, issuing from the picturesque defile
created by the diggings of the Corburan
and Trediddlem Railway, in close proximity
to the sequestered and intensely Cornish
village of Trecorphen. The animal he
bestrode, though not less than seventeen and
a half hands high, was almost concealed