moment, from out the depths of the forest, came a commanding voice,
exclaiming--

"Jack the Giant Killer! Jack the Giant Killer!"

The voice was distant, yet sonorous and stern.

Everychild looked to see who it was that had spoken: and whom should he
behold emerging from the forest but Father Time! He carried his scythe
and sand-glass, and he moved forward with majesty, yet with haste. He
fixed his gaze upon Jack and uttered one more thrilling word--"Stop!"

To Everychild he seemed a changed person as he adjusted both his scythe
and his sand-glass in his left hand and advanced with his right hand
uplifted. He seemed very stern. His eyes traveled from one face to
another until at length they rested only on Jack. Then upon the
shoulder of Jack the Giant Killer his hand descended.

Everychild could scarcely believe his own eyes for a moment or two. A
tragic change occurred in the youth who had been so splendid.

_He had become old and infirm_! His clothes were in tatters, his form
was bent, his sword was covered with rust.

Then Jack--trembling and helpless--looked wonderingly and forlornly at
Father Time. "What have you done to me?" he asked in a quivering voice.

Father Time replied calmly: "I have laid my hand on your shoulder!"

"Yes--but I don't mean that," said Jack. "Something strange . . . my