Everychild stared at the path before him.

"I'll tell you a little something about him--then you'll know whether
I'm right or not. Did he ever tell you where his home is?"

"No," said Everychild, very uncomfortably.

"Of course not. Well, he was driven away from his home, years ago.
He'd not dare to go back."

"Why?" asked Everychild.

"For telling lies. Every word he speaks is false. He doesn't know how
to tell the truth. His own mother doesn't know him any more. That's
how bad he is."

"He seems a very pleasant boy," said Everychild.

"There you are! Of course. It's easy to have a name for being
pleasant if you're willing to say the first thing that comes to hand."

"But wouldn't you find people out if they did that?" asked Everychild.

"Of course!"

"Well, when I find the giant out I'll remember what you've said."

He was glad that the path broadened into a road just then. He ran
forward a few steps and walked by the side of Tom. He didn't want to
hear anything more against the giant. In truth, it had begun to seem