The Woodcutter by Kate Danley; © Lolloj / Fotolia
Authors: Kate Danley; © Lolloj / Fotolia
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saucers from the shelf.
The Woodcutter sat himself down upon a log, took his knife from his side, and set upon whittling a stray branch as the Giant and his wife settled into dinner.
An uneasy silence fell upon the two as they slurped down their soup.
“Did you see the old Crone today?”
The Giant grunted, “I mwenft…”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full. I said, did you see the Crone today? That dust field of yours is blowing into my petunias and I swear to goodness one of them bit my ankle and now it’s all swollen up.”
The Giant put down his bread and swallowed.
The Woodcutter leaned forward.
“I did just as you said. Over the hill. Into the woods. Left at the great tree. But I didn’t find no Crone.”
The Giantess threw her bread at his head, “You old fool. Over the hill?”
“Yes.”
“Into the woods?”
“Yes.”
“Left at the great tree?”
“Yes.”
“Well, you did something wrong.”
“I didn’t do nuthin’ wrong.”
“I swear to goodness, a body has to do everything herself around here. You worthless piece of…”
“Now, don’t you go sayin’ anything ugly.”
“Are you calling me ugly?”
“Now, that isn’t what I said…”
“I think you just did. I was sitting right here and I heard you.”
The Woodcutter carved the instructions into a scrap of bark and placed it in his pocket, but leapt to his feet at the Giant’s cry, “Fee! Fi! Fo! Fum! I smell the blood of a human!”
The Giantess whacked him in the side of the arm, “Sit down, you old fool. That’s just the roast.”
The Giant sat, but his eyes wandered around the kitchen.
“If you’re going to sit there jumping out of your skin, you can do it in the other room. This attitude of yours is souring my stomach.”
The Giant threw down his spoon, “Woman, I give you a good life.”
The Giantess threw down her spoon, “You give me no such thing.”
“Look at this house.”
“We live in a rat hole.”
“Look at your garden.”
“Weedy mess.”
“What more do you want?” he roared.
“You are a stingy old bastard and I should have listened to my father.”
The Giant stood, knocking over his chair.
The Woodcutter’s eyes caught a flash of brown hair ducking behind a broom in the corner.
“My father was twice the man you’ll ever be!” said the Giantess.
The Giant walked over to the cupboard and threw open the door, “If it weren’t for me working my fingers to the bone to farm these dust fields for that Queen, we’d be living in the woods like that Crone.” He grabbed a heavy, jangling sack and threw it upon the table. Gold coins the size of watermelons spilled upon the floor, “Here. Take it. Take it all. If that will make you shut your clap trap for one blessed moment…”
“Clap trap?!? CLAP TRAP!!!”
Her eyes never left the Giant as she grabbed the broom from the corner, revealing the hiding place of a scrawny human boy with chestnut colored curls. His face, down to his very freckles, drained of color as he stood, frozen in fear.
The Woodcutter, ever keeping an eye on the fighting couple, motioned for the boy to run to the woodpile.
The Giantess began raining blows upon the Giant’s head, “Don’t you darken my doorway again!”
“Your doorway!?? I built this house with my own two hands, woman!”
The Giant began throwing cups and saucers. Huge fragments rained down upon the ground as the Giantess broke them with her broom handle as fast as the Giant could hurl.
The boy dodged the debris as he ran towards the woodpile. He crouched beside the Woodcutter, shaking in fright.
A faint niggling sensation itched at the back of the Woodcutter.
The Woodcutter set down his pack.
His hands rested for a moment and then pulled out the gift of the peddler.
Carefully, he unwrapped
The Woodcutter sat himself down upon a log, took his knife from his side, and set upon whittling a stray branch as the Giant and his wife settled into dinner.
An uneasy silence fell upon the two as they slurped down their soup.
“Did you see the old Crone today?”
The Giant grunted, “I mwenft…”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full. I said, did you see the Crone today? That dust field of yours is blowing into my petunias and I swear to goodness one of them bit my ankle and now it’s all swollen up.”
The Giant put down his bread and swallowed.
The Woodcutter leaned forward.
“I did just as you said. Over the hill. Into the woods. Left at the great tree. But I didn’t find no Crone.”
The Giantess threw her bread at his head, “You old fool. Over the hill?”
“Yes.”
“Into the woods?”
“Yes.”
“Left at the great tree?”
“Yes.”
“Well, you did something wrong.”
“I didn’t do nuthin’ wrong.”
“I swear to goodness, a body has to do everything herself around here. You worthless piece of…”
“Now, don’t you go sayin’ anything ugly.”
“Are you calling me ugly?”
“Now, that isn’t what I said…”
“I think you just did. I was sitting right here and I heard you.”
The Woodcutter carved the instructions into a scrap of bark and placed it in his pocket, but leapt to his feet at the Giant’s cry, “Fee! Fi! Fo! Fum! I smell the blood of a human!”
The Giantess whacked him in the side of the arm, “Sit down, you old fool. That’s just the roast.”
The Giant sat, but his eyes wandered around the kitchen.
“If you’re going to sit there jumping out of your skin, you can do it in the other room. This attitude of yours is souring my stomach.”
The Giant threw down his spoon, “Woman, I give you a good life.”
The Giantess threw down her spoon, “You give me no such thing.”
“Look at this house.”
“We live in a rat hole.”
“Look at your garden.”
“Weedy mess.”
“What more do you want?” he roared.
“You are a stingy old bastard and I should have listened to my father.”
The Giant stood, knocking over his chair.
The Woodcutter’s eyes caught a flash of brown hair ducking behind a broom in the corner.
“My father was twice the man you’ll ever be!” said the Giantess.
The Giant walked over to the cupboard and threw open the door, “If it weren’t for me working my fingers to the bone to farm these dust fields for that Queen, we’d be living in the woods like that Crone.” He grabbed a heavy, jangling sack and threw it upon the table. Gold coins the size of watermelons spilled upon the floor, “Here. Take it. Take it all. If that will make you shut your clap trap for one blessed moment…”
“Clap trap?!? CLAP TRAP!!!”
Her eyes never left the Giant as she grabbed the broom from the corner, revealing the hiding place of a scrawny human boy with chestnut colored curls. His face, down to his very freckles, drained of color as he stood, frozen in fear.
The Woodcutter, ever keeping an eye on the fighting couple, motioned for the boy to run to the woodpile.
The Giantess began raining blows upon the Giant’s head, “Don’t you darken my doorway again!”
“Your doorway!?? I built this house with my own two hands, woman!”
The Giant began throwing cups and saucers. Huge fragments rained down upon the ground as the Giantess broke them with her broom handle as fast as the Giant could hurl.
The boy dodged the debris as he ran towards the woodpile. He crouched beside the Woodcutter, shaking in fright.
A faint niggling sensation itched at the back of the Woodcutter.
The Woodcutter set down his pack.
His hands rested for a moment and then pulled out the gift of the peddler.
Carefully, he unwrapped
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