The Giant.
By Leonid Andreyev.
Translated for "The Russian Review."
. . . And then there came the giant, the big, great Giant. Such a great, big one. There he came, on and on. Such a funny Giant . . . His hands are huge and thick, and his fingers are outspread, and his feet are huge, and so thick. That's how thick they are. Then he came . . . and then, down he fell. You understand, he fell, tell right down. His foot caught on a stair, such a stupid Giant he is, such a funny one. So, you see, his foot caught on a stair. He opened his mouth, and . . . there he is lying, lying right down, as funny as s chimney-sweep. What have you come here for, Mister Giant? Get out of here, Mister Giant. Sasha is such a dear, such a nice, good little boy; he clings so gently to his mother, to her heart . . . to her heart, such a dear, lovely little child. He has such dear, fine eyes, clear, clean; and everybody loves him so much. And he has such a nice litle nose, and little lips, and he is not naughty at all. It was such 3 long time ago that he was naughty; he ran and shouted and rode a hobby-horse. You know, Giant. Sasha has a horsie, a line horsie, a big one, with a tail, and he mounts it and rides far, far away, to the little river and to the forest. And down in the little river there are little fishes. Do you know, Giant, what fishes are? No, no, Giant, you do not know, you are stupid, but Sasha knows: they are so little and nice. The sun shines over the water. and they play, little. cunning, lively fishes. Yes, stupid Giant, but you do not know that . . .
—What a funny Giant; he came and fell down. That's what I call funny! He was going up the stairs, and his foot caught on the stair, and . . . down he fell. What a stupid Giant! Serves you right, Giant, do not come here; nobody has called you, stupid Giant that you are. It was long ago that Sasha was naughty, was shouting and running, but now he is gentle, so dear, and mamma loves him so dearly, dearly. She loves him so much. more than anybody else in the world, more than herself, more than life. He is her little sun, her happiness, her joy. See, now he is a tiny, quiet, little child, and his life is tiny, but later he will grow big, big like the Giant; he will have a big beard, big, big whiskers, and his life will be a big. shining, beau-
