I hope you will taste better, for you seem plump and tender." "Oh, I'm not going to be eaten," said Dorothy.
"Why not ?" "I shall keep out of your way," she answered.
"How heartless!" wailed the Giant, shaking the bars again.

"Consider how many years it is since I've eaten a single plump little girl! They tell me meat is going up, but if I can manage to catch you I'm sure it will soon be going down.

And I'll catch you if I can." With this the Giant pushed his big arms, which looked like tree-trunks (except that tree-trunks don't wear pink velvet) between the iron bars, and the arms were so long that they touched the opposite wall of the rock passage.

Then he extended them as far as he could reach toward our travelers and found he could almost touch the Scarecrow--but not quite.
"Come a little nearer, please," begged the Giant.
"I'm a Scarecrow." "A Scarecrow?
Ugh! I don't care a straw for a scarecrow.

Who is that bright-colored delicacy behind you ?" "Me ?" asked Scraps.