“Clarinda, Clarinda!” the giant did shout,
“Oh where is that woman I’ve seen here about?”
The Wind gave no answer, he’d fallen asleep,
And the trees of the forest made not a peep.
The giant was angry, he wanted his Clar’;
He was hungry, so hungry; the cupboard was bare.
He lifted his head—it struck through a cloud.
“I’m blind!” he was crying. Then Clarinda laughed loud.
“Ha, ha, ha; hee, hee, hee!” she laughed, on her bike.
“I’m riding off free, for I’m going on strike!”
The giant was helpless, he didn’t know how
To heat up some water and dump in a cow.