XIII. JIMMIEBOY AND JACK FROST – IN WHICH JACK GIVES OFFENCE
XIV. IN WHICH JIMMIEBOY AND THE GAS STOVE MAKE A START
XV. IN THE HEART OF FROSTLAND
XVI. THE END OF THE STORY
Отрывок из книги
The day had not yet dawned, but Jimmieboy was awake – wide awake. So wide awake was he, indeed, that the small bed in which he had passed the night was not broad enough by some ten or twelve feet to accommodate the breadth of his wakefulness, and he had in consequence crawled over into his father's bed, seated himself as nearly upon his father's neck as was possible, and was vociferously demanding a story.
"Oh, wait a little while, Jimmieboy," said his father, wearily. "I'm sound asleep – can't you see?"
.....
"'Well, I guess not!' roared the head that had curly hair. 'He's going west after mine.'
"Meanwhile the Giant had come to a stand-still. He couldn't run in any direction until his heads had agreed as to which way he should go, and all this time the beautiful hats were getting farther and farther away, and the heads more frantic than ever. For five full minutes they quarreled thus among themselves, turning now and then to peer weepingly after their beloved silk hats, and finally, with a supreme effort, each endeavored to force the Giant in the direction it wished him to go, with the result that poor Forepate was torn to pieces, and fell dead in the middle of the street."