sufferings. "To think," said Zebedee, "aint it curious--who'd a
thought that great powerful critter could ever get sick and waste away
like this!"




CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

THE SORROWS OF HUGGERMUGGER.


At last, one morning while the sailors were lounging about on the
beach, they saw the great Huggermugger coming along, his head bent
low, and the great tears streaming down his face. They all ran up to
him. He sat, or rather threw himself down on the ground. "My dear
little friends," said he, "it's all over. I never shall see my poor
wife again--never again--never again--I am the last of the
Huggermuggers. She is gone. And as for me--I care not now whither I
go. I can never stay here--not here--it will be too lonely. Let me go
and bury my poor wife, and then farewell to giant-land! I will go with
you, if you will take me!"

They were all much grieved. They took Huggermugger's great hands, as
he sat there, like a great wrecked and stranded ship, swayed to and
fro by the waves and surges of his grief, and their tears mingled with
his. He took them into his arms, the great Huggermugger, and kissed
them. "You are the only friends left me now," he said, "take me with
you from this lonely place. She who was so dear to me is gone to the
great Unknown, as on a boundless ocean; and this great sea which lies