'Lord Peter', No. xlii, where agriculture is plainly a secret of
mankind, which the Giants were eager to learn, but which was a branch
of knowledge beyond their power to attain.

'Stop a bit', said the Cat, 'and I'll tell you how the farmer sets
to work to get in his winter rye.'

And so she told him such a long story about the winter rye.

'First of all, you see, he ploughs the field, and then he dungs it,
and then he ploughs it again, and then he harrows it,' and so she
went on till the sun rose.

Before we leave these gigantic natural powers, let us linger a moment
to point out how heartily the Winds are sketched in these Tales as
four brothers; of whom, of course, the North wind is the oldest, and
strongest, and roughest. But though rough in form and tongue, he is a
genial, kind-hearted fellow after all. He carries the lassie to the
castle, 'East o' the Sun and West o' the Moon', whither none of his
brothers had strength to blow. All he asks is that she won't be
afraid, and then he takes a good rest, and puffs himself up with as
much breath as ever he can hold, begins to blow a storm, and off they
go. So, too, in 'The Lad who went to the North Wind', No. xxxiv,
though he can't restore the meal he carried off, he gives the lad
three things which make his fortune, and amply repay him. He, too,
like the Grecian Boreas, is divine, and lineally descended from
Hraesvelgr, that great giant in the Edda, who sits 'at the end of the
world in eagle's shape, and when he flaps his wings, all the winds
come that blow upon men.'