“They‘re dear little things at that age，” said one giantess to another. “It seems almost a pity . . .”
Scrubb and Puddleglum both did their best， but girls do that kind of thing better than boys. Even boys do it better than Marsh.wiggles.
At lunchtime something happened which made all three of them more anxious than ever to leave the castle of the Gentle Giants. They had lunch in the great hall at a little table of their own， near the fireplace. At a bigger table， about twenty yards away， half a dozen old giants were lunching. Their conversation was so noisy， and so high up in the air， that the children soon took no more notice of it than you would of hooters outside the window or traffic noises in the street. They were eating cold venison， a kind of food which Jill had never tasted before， and she was liking it.
Suddenly Puddleglum turned to them， and his face had gone so pale that you could see the paleness under the natural muddiness of his complexion. He said：
“Don’t eat another bite.”