"In those days there were giants." Those days were the days when our mother was a young lady, and, as we devoutly believe, the most beautiful woman of her period; when our father's side-whiskers were glossy black; when he wore his hat just a leetle bit on one side, and when they twain used now and then to go forth magnificently arrayed after the lamps were lit, to balls and parties, whilst we little ones sat up in our white beds to receive the parting kiss and injunction flavored with blessings and eau de cologne. In those days, we repeat, there were giants. Giants in our story-books, giants in our young imaginations, mere suckers from the parent stem of the story-books, but terrible in their proportions. There were giants, too, in our narrow path, springing out of our waywardness and evil passions, and the evil passions of others; there were giants, too, on the road to knowledge; oh, such monstrous giants all of them, far bigger and fiercer than any we ever met in after life. But there was another giant of a far different sort, who used to make his appearance at our little parties about Christmas-time, and in sustaining whose character we have over and over again sweltered and staggered and suffered martyrdom the most terrible. Still he was a pleasant giant (particularly to the upper-story boy), and welcome to the whole company. He had a very youthful look, in spite of his ferocious moustache; his hat had a tendency to drop over his eyes and his gait was erratic; though his proportions inspired awe in the hearts of the tiny portion of the audience. We have but rarely met this gentleman in later days, partially, we fancy, from a difficulty in procuring legs; we have observed a growing disinclination in persons to perform these members; indeed, we have ourself shrunk several times from the task. It is, indeed, an ordeal rather severe, after partaking heartily of Christmas dinner, and, perhaps, generously of wine, to walk about a hot room with a warm boy on your shoulders, and your entire person—head, face, and all—enveloped in a heavy cloak or overcoat, and not a breath of fresh air to be taken under penalty of spoiling the giant.

A small and cool boy is placed on the shoulders of a man or boy who is stout in the legs; a long military cloak or overcoat is thrown over the two, and the monster is made. You can embelish him with moustaches, a hat, and a long walking-cane, and then you will have the creature complete, as represented in the picture opposite.