Farmer Giles Of Ham
Posted: Sat Jun 26, 2021 8:30 pm
A light-hearted story that I found mildly amusing. A giant invades the Little Kingdom ( a mythical early version of Ham) and trespasses the farm of one Farmer Giles, stepping on his prize cow and ruining his crops. Farmer Giles fills a blunderbuss gun with nails and assorted other projectiles, fires it at the giant, and the giant think the area is filled with nasty flies and flies the countryside to go back northwest from when he came. The King, August Bonifacius rex et basileus, hears about the incident and sends him a sword called Tailbiter as a reward. But the giant's story of the incident ends up sending a dragon Giles' way.
I thought the dragons thinking knights are mythical was funny.That was the situation when a real dragon turned up again. The giant was largely to blame. After his adventure he used to go about in the mountains visiting his scattered relations more than had been his custom, and much more than they liked. For he was always trying to borrow a large copper pot. But whether he got the loan of one or not, he would sit and talk in his long-winded lumbering fashion about the excellent country down away East, and all the wonders of the Wide World. He had got it into his head that he was a great and daring traveller.
"A nice land," he would say, "pretty flat, soft to the feet, and plenty to eat for the taking; cows, you know, and sheep all over the place, easy to spot, if you look carefully."
"But what about the people?" said they.
"I never saw any," said he. "There was not a knight to be seen or heard, my dear fellows. Nothing worse than a few stinging flies by the river."
"Why don't you go back and stay there?" said they.
"Oh well, there's no place like home, they say," said he. "But maybe I shall go back one day when I have a mind. And anyway I went there once, which is more than most folk can say. Now about that copper pot."
"And these rich lands," they would hurriedly ask, "these delectable regions full of undefended cattle, which way do they lie? And how far off?"
"Oh," he would answer, "away east or sou'east. But it's a long journey." And then he would give such an exaggerated account of the distance that he had walked, and the woods, hills, and plains that he had crossed, that none of the other less ong legged giants ever set out. Still, the talk got about.
Then the warm summer was followed by a hard winter. It was bitter cold in the mountains and food was scarce. The talk got louder. Lowland sheep and kine from the deep pastures were much discussed. The dragons pricked up their ears. They were hungry, and these rumours were attractive.
"So knights are mythical!" said the younger and less experienced dragons. "We always thought so."
"At least they may be getting rare," thought the older and wiser worms; "far and few and no longer to be feared."
There was one dragon who was deeply moved. Chrysophylax Dives as his name, for he was of ancient and imperial lineage, and very rich. He was cunning, inquisitive, greedy, well-armoured but not over bold. But at any rate he was not in the least afraid of flies or insects of any sort or size: and he was mortally hungry.
So one winter's day, about a week before Christmas, Chrso phylax spread his wings and took off. He landed quietly in the middle of the night plump in the heart of the midland realm of Augustus Bonifacius rex et basileus. He did a deal of damage in a short while, smashing and burning, and devouring sheep, cattle, and horses.