THE SELFISH GIANT


By Oscar Wilde


Every afternoon, as they were coming from school, the children used to go 
and play in the Giant's garden.
It was a large lovely garden, with soft green grass. Here and there over 
the grass stood beautiful flowers like stars, and there were twelve peach-
trees that in the spring-time broke out into delicate blossoms of pink and 
pearl, and in the autumn bore rich fruit. The birds sat on the trees and 
sang so sweetly that the children used to stop their games in order to 
listen to them. "How happy we are here!" they cried to each other.
One day the Giant came back. He had been to visit his friend the Cornish 
ogre, and had stayed with him for seven years. After the seven years were 
over he had said all that he had to say, for his conversation was limited, 
and he determined to return to his own castle. When he arrived he saw the 
children playing in the garden.
"What are you doing here?" he cried in a very gruff voice, and the children 
ran away.
"My own garden is my own garden," said the Giant; "any one can understand 
that, and I will allow nobody to play in it but myself." So he built a high 
wall all round it, and put up a notice-board.

TRESPASSERS
WILL BE
PROSECUTED

He was a very selfish Giant.
The poor children had now nowhere to play. They tried to play on the road, 
but the road was very dusty and full of hard stones, and they did not like 
it. They used to wander round the high walls when their lessons were over, 
and talk about the beautiful garden inside. "How happy we were there!" they 
said to each other.
Then the Spring came, and all over the country there were little blossoms 
and little birds. Only in the garden of the Selfish Giant it was still 
winter. The birds did not care to sing in it as there were no children, and 
the trees forgot to blossom. Once a beautiful flower put its head out from 
the grass, but when it saw the notice-board it was so sorry for the 
children that it slipped back into the ground again, and went off to sleep. 
The only people who were pleased were the Snow and the Frost. "Spring has 
forgotten this garden," they cried, "so we will live here all the year 
round." The Snow covered up the grass with her great white cloak, and the 
Frost painted all the trees silver. Then they invited the North Wind to 
stay with them, and he came. He was wrapped in furs and he roared all day 
about the garden and blew the chimney-pots down. "This is a delightful 
spot," he said, "we must ask the Hail on a visit." So the Hail came. Every 
day for three hours he rattled on the roof of the castle till he broke most 
of the slates, and then he ran round and round the garden as fast as he 
could go. He was dressed in grey, and his breath was like ice.
"I cannot understand why the Spring is so late in coming," said the Selfish 
Giant, as he sat at the window and looked out at his cold white garden; "I 
hope there will be a change in the weather."
But the Spring never came, nor the Summer. The Autumn gave golden fruit to 
every garden, but to the Giant's garden she gave none. "He is too selfish," 
she said. So it was always Winter there, and the North Wind and the Hail, 
and the Frost, and the Snow danced about through the trees.
One morning the Giant was lying awake in bed when he heard some lovely 
music. It sounded so sweet to his ears that he thought it must be the 
King's musicians passing by. It was really only a little linnet singing 
outside his window, but it was so long since he had heard a bird sing in 
his garden that it seemed to him to be the most beautiful music in the 
world. Then the Hail stopped dancing over his head, and the North Wind 
ceased roaring, and a delicious perfume came to him through the open 
casement. "I believe the Spring has come at last," said the Giant; and he 
jumped out of bed and looked out.
What did he see?
He saw a most wonderful sight. Through a little hole in the wall the 
children had crept in, and they were sitting in the branches of the trees. 
In every tree that he could see there was a little child. And the trees 
were so glad to have the children back again that they had covered 
themselves with blossoms, and were waving their arms gently above the 
children's heads. The birds were flying about and tittering with delight, 
and the flowers were looking up through the green grass and laughing. It 
was a lovely scene, only in one corner it was still winter. It was the 
farthest corner of the garden, and in it was standing a little boy. He was 
so small that he could not reach up to the branches of the tree, and he was 
wandering all round it, crying bitterly. The poor tree was still quite 
covered with frost and snow, and the North Wind was blowing and roaring 
above it. "Climb up! little boy," said the Tree, and it bent its branches 
down as low as it could; but the boy was too tiny.
And the Giant's heart melted as he looked out. "How selfish I have been!" 
he said; "now I know why the Spring would not come here. I will put that 
poor little boy on the top of the tree, and then I will knock down the 
wall, and my garden shall be the children's playground for ever and ever." 
He was really very sorry for what he had done.
So he crept downstairs and opened the front door quite softly, and went out 
into the garden. But when the children saw him they were so frightened that 
they all ran away, and the garden became winter again. Only the little boy 
did not run, for his eyes were so full of tears that he did not see the 
Giant coming. And the Giant stole up behind him and took him gently in his 
hand, and put him up into the tree. And the tree broke at once into 
blossom, and the birds came and sang on it, and the little boy stretched 
out his two arms and flung them round the Giant's neck, and kissed him. And 
the other children, when they saw that the Giant was not wicked any longer, 
came running back, and with them came the Spring. "It is your garden now, 
little children," said the Giant, and he took a great axe and knocked down 
the wall. And when the people were going to market at twelve o'clock they 
found the Giant playing with the children in the most beautiful garden they 
had ever seen.
All day long they played, and in the evening they came to the Giant to bid 
him good-bye. "But where is your little companion?" he said: "the boy I put 
into the tree." The Giant loved him the best because he had kissed him.
"We don't know," answered the children; "he has gone away."
"You must tell him to be sure and come tomorrow," said the Giant. But the 
children said that they did not know where he lived, and had never seen him 
before; and the Giant felt very sad.
Every afternoon, when school was over, the children came and played with 
the Giant. But the little boy whom the Giant loved was never seen again. 
The Giant was very kind to all the children, yet he longed for his first 
little friend, and often spoke of him. "How I would like to see him!" he 
used to say.
Years went over, and the Giant grew very old and feeble. He could not play 
about any more, so he sat in a huge armchair, and watched the children at 
their games, and admired his garden. "I have many beautiful flowers," he 
said; "but the children are the most beautiful flowers of all."
One winter morning he looked out of his window as he was dressing. He did 
not hate the Winter now, for he knew that it was merely the Spring asleep, 
and that the flowers were resting.
Suddenly he rubbed his eyes in wonder and looked and looked. It certainly 
was a marvellous sight. In the farthest corner of the garden was a tree 
quite covered with lovely white blossoms. Its branches were all golden, and 
silver fruit hung down from them, and underneath it stood the little boy he 
had loved.
Downstairs ran the Giant in great joy, and out into the garden. He hastened 
across the grass, and came near to the child. And when he came quite close 
his face grew red with anger, and he said, "Who hath dared to wound thee?" 
For on the palms of the child's hands were the prints of two nails, and the 
prints of two nails were on the little feet.
"Who hath dared to wound thee?" cried the Giant; "tell me, that I may take 
my big sword and slay him."
"Nay!" answered the child; "but these are the wounds of Love."
"Who art thou?" said the Giant, and a strange awe fell on him, and he knelt 
before the little child.
And the child smiled on the Giant, and said to him, "You let me play once 
in your garden, today you shall come with me to my garden, which is 
Paradise."
And when the children ran in that afternoon, they found the Giant lying 
dead under the tree, all covered with white blossoms.