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Tor enclosure
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A giant once lived at Carn Galva. (I'm warning you. This is another one of those depressing Cornish stories about giants. Don't read it if you're feeling delicate).
A giant once lived at Carn Galva, and he was a nice chap. He had a human friend from Choone, who used to take a turn over to the carn every now and then, just to see how the giant was getting on and to cheer him up a bit, or play a game. One afternoon they'd been playing quoits and when it was time for his friend to leave, the giant patted him on the head. "Same time tomorrow then?" But unfortunately the young man dropped down dead. The giant's fingers had gone right through his skull. He tried to plug up the fingerholes, but it was a bit late.
"Oh, my son, why didn't they make the shell of thy noddle stronger? A es as plum as a pie-crust, doughbaked, and made too thin by half. How shall I ever pass my time without thee to play bob and mop-and-heede?" And the poor giant was never happy after that. He pined away and died seven years later (probably the blink of an eye to a giant).
You can see how big the giant was, because his logan stone was just at the right height to sit on, with his feet comfortably on the turf below.
(story from William Bottrell's 'Tales and Hearthside Traditions of West Cornwall' (c 1870?)quoted in Katherine Briggs' 'Folklore and legends of Britain')
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Posted by Rhiannon
29th April 2005ce
Edited 29th April 2005ce
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