The Giants and the Joneses. Julia Donaldson

      

      The Giants and the Joneses

      JULIA DONALDSON

      Illustrated by Paul Hess

       Copyright

       The Giants and the Joneses

      Text copyright © 2004 Julia Donaldson

      Illustrations copyright © 2004 Paul Hess

      All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

      Egmont UK Ltd

      239 Kensington High Street

      London

      W8 6SA

      Visit our web site at www.egmont.co.uk First e-book edition 2010 ISBN 978 1 4052 5158 7

      For Angharad and Rhiannon

      Table of Contents

       Cover Page

       Title Page

Copyright

       Dedication

1 The secret box

2 Throg

3 Snail number nineteen

       4 Bimplestonk

       5 In the bag

       6 Suspicion and sandwiches

       7 The mountain of cliffs

       8 Weedkiller

       9 Snishsnosh

       10 Discovery

       11 The return of Zab

       12 The staircase and the slide

       13 Whackleclack

       14 The icy lake

       15 Oggle arump

       16 The battle jar

       17 Sweefswoof

       18 The running-away collection

       19 Spratchkin

       20 The monster on the bed

       21 Blood

       22 Alone

       23 Beely bobbaleely

       24 The bridge of doom

       25 Escape

       26 The spy

       27 Nug!

       28 Over the edge

       29 Oidle oy

       30 Unpicking the stitches

       31 Three years later

       English/Groilish Dictionary

       Groilish/English Dictionary

       1 The secret box

      ‘BEESH, BEESH, BEESH!’ said the girl giant. In giant language, this meant, ‘Please, please, please!’

      The girl giant, Jumbeelia, was sitting up in bed and holding out a book to her mother. ‘Beesh, beesh, beesh, Mij!’ she pleaded again.

      Mij, Jumbeelia’s mother, sighed. Without even looking at the book, she knew that the picture on the front was of a tiny little man standing on a leaf. When would Jumbeelia, who was nearly nine and perfectly capable of reading to herself, grow out of these babyish bedtime stories about the iggly plops?

      Everyone knew that the iggly plops didn’t really exist. Just as well, since they were such nasty little things in all the stories about them. Jumbeelia’s big brother had stopped believing in them long before he was this age.

      Jumbeelia’s mother took a different book from the shelf. It had a picture of some nice normal giant children running about in school uniform.

      But Jumbeelia looked so disappointed that Mij gave in. Yet again she