Part 2 — Story originally written for her little Grandsons, James and Charley.

Dear Jim and Charley:

Here is one of my stories for little folks. It is about a giant, that lives about here, and in fact I guess he lives in a great many places. He is a monstrous big fellow, a great deal larger than the King of Og, whose bed it was said was twelve feet long and eight feet broad. He is bigger than Goliath whom David killed, in fact larger than any giant you ever heard of. And if you ever meet with this big fellow, I hope you will kill him, rather than become his subjects. For he is a king, or rather a despotic emperor; he holds complete control over his subjects and compels them to do whatever he wishes. He is always peering around, knocking at people's doors, and peeping into people's houses, to see if he can get any one to serve him. In fact sometimes he walks right boldly into my house and compels me to serve him. He is a wonderful fellow and I think he must be very old, and he is very ugly; he is blear-eyed and snub-nosed, and everything else that is ugly, and he makes people do ugly things. He makes men and women strut about and think they are somebody—why, I have heard of so many bad things he has caused people to do, that I hardly know what to tell you first. He has made nation go to war with nation, he makes men fight and kill each other, and many years ago he made an old king dress himself all up in purple robes, and sit upon his throne, and declare he was God. He made Joseph's brethren sell Joseph down into Egypt when he was a little boy. And Absalom, David's son, to pursue after his father to kill him, and he caused the wicked Jews to crucify our blessed Saviour and kill him.

Oh, he has done so many bad things, and is still doing bad; for he makes little boys and girls do bad. I must tell you something he makes them do; he makes little boys run away from their mother and tell lies and smoke segars and do a great many bad things; he makes little girls primp themselves up and think they are young ladies, and must not help their mothers any more; he makes children quarrel and fight and call names to get advantage of each other; he makes a little boy that I know call his little playmate——. And now boys what do you think of my giant, old and ugly and every way bad? Do you think you will be his subjects, or will you kill him when you meet him, as David did Goliath with a sling and stone? I should like to hear you guess his name, but as you are so far away I shall have to tell you; his name is "Giant Self." See what a great big fellow he is and what bad things he can make you do. Now if you don't want to be his subjects, I will tell you what you must do. When you meet him, for I know you will meet him, you must take the sling of faith and the stone of prayer and kill him. That is, when you feel any selfish thoughts coming into your heart you must ask your Heavenly Father to take them all away, and keep you from pleasing Giant Self, and make you good boys, help you to grow up good men, and ever keep you in His care—

Your grandma prays.

The little scraps of poetry which follow, have lain among my mother's papers for over thirty years. I do not think they were ever shown to any of her most intimate friends. They were written mostly in 1846, when my mother was about twenty-six years of age, and were simple heart effusions, never intended for public eye.

Even those addressed to particular persons I do not think were ever presented; and my mother, though fond of the poets, seems never to have thought herself gifted to write poetry. I selected the few found in these pages from an old scrap-book, and I may say I regard these as the best, and perhaps the only ones adapted to public reading, found in the meagre collection. I make no corrections in them.

T. G. S.