The Big Friendly Giant was seated at the great table in his cave and he was doing his homework.
Sophie sat cross-legged on the table-top near by, watching him at work.
The glass jar containing the one and only good dream they had caught that day stood between
them.
The BFG, with great care and patience, was printing something on a piece of paper with an
enormous pencil.
‘What are you writing?’ Sophie asked him.
‘Every dream is having its special label on the bottle,’ the BFG said. ‘How else could I be
finding the one I am wanting in a hurry?’
‘But can you really and truly tell what sort of a dream it’s going to be simply by listening to it?’
Sophie asked.
‘I can,’ the BFG said, not looking up.
‘But how? Is it by the way it hums and buzzes?’
‘You is less or more right,’ the BFG said. ‘Every dream in the world is making a different sort of
buzzy-hum music. And these grand swashboggling ears of mine is able to read that music.’
‘By music, do you mean tunes1?’
‘I is not meaning tunes.’
‘Then what do you mean?’
‘Human beans is having their own music, right or left?’
‘Right,’ Sophie said. ‘Lots of music.’
‘And sometimes human beans is very overcome when they is hearing wonderous music. They is
getting shivers down their spindels. Right or left?’
‘Right,’ Sophie said.
‘So the music is saying something to them. It is sending a message. I do not think the human
beans is knowing what that message is, but they is loving it just the same.’
‘That’s about right,’ Sophie said.
‘But because of these jumpsquiffling ears of mine,’ the BFG said, ‘I is not only able to hear the
music that dreams is making but I is understanding it also.’
‘What do you mean understanding it?’ Sophie said.
‘I can read it,’ the BFG said. ‘It talks to me. It is like a langwitch.’
‘I find that just a little hard to believe,’ Sophie said.
‘I’ll bet you is also finding it hard to believe in quogwinkles,’ the BFG said, ‘and how they is
visiting us from the stars.’
‘Of course I don’t believe that,’ Sophie said.
The BFG regarded her gravely with those huge eyes of his. ‘I hope you will forgive me,’ he
said, ‘if I tell you that human beans is thinking they is very clever, but they is not. They is nearly all
of them notmuchers and squeakpips.’
‘I beg your pardon,’ Sophie said.
‘The matter with human beans,’ the BFG went on, ‘is that they is absolutely refusing to believe
in anything unless they is actually seeing it right in front of their own schnozzles. Of course
quogwinkles is existing. I is meeting them oftenly. I is even chittering to them.’ He turned away
contemptuously from Sophie and resumed his writing. Sophie moved over to read what he had
written so far. The letters were printed big and bold, but were not very well formed. Here is what it
said:
THIS DREAM IS ABOUT HOW I IS SAVING MY TEECHER FROM DROWNING. I IS
DIVING INTO THE RIVER FROM A HIGH BRIDGE AND I IS DRAGGING MY TEECHER TO
THE BANK AND THEN I IS GIVING HIM THE KISS OF DEATH…
‘The kiss of what?’ Sophie asked.
The BFG stopped writing and raised his head slowly. His eyes rested on Sophie’s face. ‘I is
telling you once before,’ he said quietly, ‘that I is never having a chance to go to school. I is full of
mistakes. They is not my fault. I do my best. You is a lovely little girl, but please remember that you
is not exactly Miss Knoweverything yourself.’
‘I’m sorry’ Sophie said. ‘I really am. It is very rude of me to keep correcting you.’
The BFG gazed at her for a while longer, then he bent3 his head again to his slow laborious4
writing.
‘Tell me honestly,’ Sophie said. ‘If you blew this dream into my bedroom when I was asleep,
would I really and truly start dreaming about how I saved my teacher from drowning by diving off
the bridge?’
‘More,’ the BFG said. ‘A lot more. But I cannot be squibbling the whole gropefluncking dream
on a titchy bit of paper. Of course there is more.’
The BFG laid down his pencil and placed one massive ear close to the jar. For about thirty
seconds he listened intently. ‘Yes,’ he said, nodding his great head solemnly up and down. ‘This
dream is continuing very nice. It has a very dory-hunky ending.’
‘How does it end?’ Sophie said. ‘Please tell me.’
‘You would be dreaming,’ the BFG said, ‘that the morning after you is saving the teacher from
the river, you is arriving at school and you is seeing all the five hundred pupils sitting in the assembly
hall, and all the teachers as well, and the head teacher is then standing2 up and saying, “I is wanting
the whole school to give three cheers for Sophie because she is so brave and is saving the life of our
fine arithmatic teacher, Mr Figgins, who was unfortunately pushed off the bridge into the river by our
gym-teacher, Miss Amelia Upscotch. So three cheers for Sophie!” And the whole school is then
cheering like mad and shouting bravo well done, and, for ever after that, even when you is getting
your sums all gungswizzled and muggled up, Mr Figgins is always giving you ten out of ten and
writing Good Work Sophie in your exercise book. Then you is waking up.’
‘I like that dream,’ Sophie said.
‘Of course you like it,’ the BFG said. ‘It is a phizzwizard.’ He licked the back of the label and
stuck it on the jar. ‘I is usually writing a bit more than this on the labels,’ he said. ‘But you is
watching me and making me jumpsy.’
‘I’ll go and sit somewhere else,’ Sophie said.
‘Don’t go,’ he said. ‘Look in the jar carefully and I think you will be seeing this dream.’
Sophie peered into the jar and there, sure enough, she saw the faint translucent5 outline of
something about the size of a hen’s egg. There was just a touch of colour in it, a pale sea-green, soft
and shimmering6 and very beautiful. There it lay, this small oblong sea-green jellyish thing, at the
bottom of the jar, quite peaceful, but pulsing gendy, the whole of it moving in and out ever so
slightly, as though it were breathing.
‘It’s moving!’ Sophie cried. ‘It’s alive!’
‘Of course it’s alive.’
‘What will you feed it on?’ Sophie asked.
‘It is not needing any food,’ the BFG told her.
‘That’s cruel,’ Sophie said. ‘Everything alive needs food of some sort. Even trees and plants.’
‘The north wind is alive,’ the BFG said. ‘It is moving. It touches you on the cheek and on the
hands. But nobody is feeding it.’
Sophie was silent. This extraordinary giant was disturbing her ideas. He seemed to be leading
her towards mysteries that were beyond her understanding.
‘A dream is not needing anything,’ the BFG went on. ‘If it is a good one, it is waiting peaceably
for ever until it is released and allowed to do its job. If it is a bad one, it is always fighting to get out.’
The BFG stood up and walked over to one of the many shelves and placed the latest jar among
the thousands of others.
‘Please can I see some of the other dreams?’ Sophie asked him.
The BFG hesitated. ‘Nobody is ever seeing them before,’ he said. ‘But perhaps after all I is
letting you have a little peep.’ He picked her up off the table and stood her on the palm of one of his
huge hands. He carried her towards the shelves. ‘Over here is some of the good dreams,’ he said.
‘The phizzwizards.’
‘Would you hold me closer so I can read the labels,’ Sophie said.
‘My labels is only telling bits of it,’ the BFG said. ‘The dreams is usually much longer. The
labels is just to remind me.’
Sophie started to read the labels. The first one seemed long enough to her. It went right round
the jar, and as she read it, she had to keep turning the jar. This is what it said:
TODAY I IS SITTING IN CLASS AND I DISCOVER THAT IF I IS STARING VERY HARD
AT MY TEECHER IN A SPHESHAL WAY, I IS ABLE TO PUT HER TO SLEEP. SO I KEEP
STARING AT HER AND IN THE END HER HEAD DROPS ON TO HER DESK AND SHE
GOES FAST TO SLEEP AND SNORKLES LOUDLY. THEN IN MARCHES THE HEAD
TEECHER AND HE SHOUTS ‘WAKE UP MISS PLUMRIDGE! HOW DARE YOU GO TO
SLEEP IN CLASS! GO FETCH YOUR HAT AND COTE AND LEAVE THIS SCHOOL FOR
EVER! YOU IS SACKED!’ BUT IN A JIFFY I IS PUTTING THE HEAD TEECHER TO SLEEP
AS WELL, AND HE JUST CRUMPLES7 SLOWLY TO THE FLOOR LIKE A LUMP OF JELLY
AND THERE HE LIES ALL IN A HEAP AND STARTS SNORKELLING8 EVEN LOWDER
THAN MISS PLUMRIDGE. AND THEN I IS HEARING MY MUMMY’S VOICE SAYING
WAKE UP YOUR BREKFUST IS REDDY.
‘What a funny dream,’ Sophie said.
‘It’s a ringbeller,’ the BFG said. ‘It’s whoppsy.’
Inside the jar, just below the edge of the label, Sophie could see the putting-to-sleep dream lying
peacefully on the bottom, pulsing gently, sea-green like the other one, but perhaps a trifle larger.
‘Do you have separate dreams for boys and for girls?’ Sophie asked.
‘Of course,’ the BFG said. ‘If I is giving a girl’s dream to a boy, even if it was a really whoppsy
girl’s dream, the boy would be waking up and thinking what a rotbungling grinksludging old dream
that was.’
‘Boys would,’ Sophie said.
‘These here is all girls’ dreams on this shelf,’ the BFG said.
‘Can I read a boy’s dream?’
‘You can,’ the BFG said, and he lifted her to a higher shelf. The label on the nearest boy’s-
dream jar read as follows:
I IS MAKING MYSELF A MARVELUS PAIR OF SUCTION BOOTS AND WHEN I PUT
THEM ON I IS ABEL TO WALK STRATE UP THE KITSHUN WALL AND ACROSS THE
CEILING., WELL, I IS WALKING UPSIDE DOWN ON THE CEILING WEN MY BIG SISTER
COMES IN AND SHE IS STARTING TO YELL AT ME AS SHE ALWAYS DOES, YELLING
WOT ON EARTH IS YOU DOING UP THERE WALKING ON THE CEILING AND I LOOKS
DOWN AT HER AND I SMILES AND I SAYS I TOLD YOU YOU WAS DRIVING ME UP THE
WALL AND NOW YOU HAS DONE IT.
‘I find that one rather silly,’ Sophie said.
‘Boys wouldn’t,’ the BFG said, grinning. ‘It’s another ringbeller. Perhaps you has seen enough
now.’
‘Let me read another boy’s one,’ Sophie said.
The next label said:
THE TELLYFONE RINGS IN OUR HOUSE AND MY FATHER PICKS IT UP AND SAYS
IN HIS VERY IMPORTANT TELLYFONE VOICE ‘SIMPKINS SPEAKING’. THEN HIS FACE
GOES WHITE AND HIS VOICE GOES ALL FUNNY AND HE SAYS ‘WHAT! WHO?’ AND
THEN HE SAYS ‘YES SIR I UNDERSTAND SIR BUT SURELY IT IS ME YOU IS WISHING
TO SPEKE TO SIR NOT MY LITTLE SON?’ MY FATHER’S FACE IS GOING FROM WHITE
TO DARK PURPEL AND HE IS GULPING9 LIKE HE HAS A LOBSTER10 STUCK IN HIS
THROTE AND THEN AT LAST HE IS SAYING ‘YES SIR VERY WELL SIR I WILL GET HIM
SIR’ AND HE TURNS TO ME AND HE SAYS IN A RATHER RESPECK-FUL VOICE ‘IS YOU
KNOWING THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES?’ AND I SAYS ‘NO BUT I EXPECT
HE IS HEARING ABOUT ME.’ THEN I IS HAVING A LONG TALK ON THE FONE AND
SAYING THINGS LIKE ‘LET ME TAKE CARE OF IT, MR PRESIDENT. YOU’LL BUNGLE11 IT
ALL UP IF YOU DO IT YOUR WAY’. AND MY FATHER’S EYES IS GOGGLING12 RIGHT OUT
OF HIS HEAD AND THAT IS WHEN I IS HEARING MY FATHER’S REAL VOICE SAYING
GET UP YOU LAZY SLOB OR YOU WILL BE LATE FOR SKOOL.
‘Boys are crazy,’ Sophie said. ‘Let me read this next one.’ Sophie started reading the next label:
I IS HAVING A BATH AND I IS DISCOVERING THAT IF I PRESS QUITE HARD ON MY
TUMMY BUTTON A FUNNY FEELING COMES OVER ME AND SUDDENLEY MY LEGS IS
NOT THERE NOR IS MY ARMS. IN FACT I HAS BECOME ABSOLOOTLY INVISIBLE ALL
OVER. I IS STILL THERE BUT NO ONE CAN SEE ME NOT EVEN MYSELF. SO MY
MUMMY COMES IN AND SAYS ‘WHERE IS THAT CHILD! HE WAS IN THE BATH A
MINIT AGO AND HE CAN’T POSSIBLY HAVE WASHED HIMSELF PROPERLY!’ SO I SAYS
‘HERE I IS’ AND SHE SAYS ‘WHERE?’ AND I SAYS ‘HERE’ AND SHE SAYS ‘WHERE?’
AND I SAYS ‘HERE!’ AND SHE YELLS ‘HENRY! COME UP QUICK!’ AND WHEN MY
DADDY RUSHES IN I IS WASHING MYSELF AND MY DADDY SEES THE SOAP
FLOATING AROUND IN THE AIR BUT OF CORSE HE IS NOT SEEING ME AND HE
SHOUTS ‘WHERE ARE YOU BOY?’ AND I SAYS ‘HERE’ AND HE SAYS ‘WHERE?’ AND I
SAYS ‘HERE’ AND HE SAYS ‘WHERE?’ AND I SAYS ‘HERE!’ AND HE SAYS ‘THE SOAP,
BOY! THE SOAP! IT’S FLYING IN THE AIR!’ THEN I PRESS MY TUMMY BUTTOXN
AGAIN AND NOW I IS VISIBLE. MY DADDY IS SQUIFFY WITH EXCITEMENT AND HE
SAYS ‘YOU IS THE INVISIBLE BOY!’ AND I SAYS ‘NOW I IS GOING TO HAVE SOME
FUN,’ SO WHEN I IS OUT OF THE BATH AND I HAVE DRIED MYSELF I PUT ON MY
DRESSING- GOWN AND SLIPPERS13 AND I PRESS MY TUMMY BUTTON AGAIN TO
BECOME INVISIBLE AND I GO DOWN INTO THE TOWN AND WALK IN THE STREETS.
OF CORSE ONLY ME IS INVISIBLE BUT NOT THE THINGS I IS WEARING SO WHEN
PEEPLE IS SEEING A DRESSING-GOWN AND SLIPPERS FLOATING ALONG THE STREET
WITH NOBODY IN IT THERE IS A PANIC WITH EVERYBODY YELLING ‘A GHOST! A
GHOST!’ AND PEEPLE IS SCREAMING LEFT AND RIGHT AND BIG STRONG POLICEMEN
IS RUNNING FOR THEIR LIVES AND BEST OF ALL I SEE MR GRUMMIT MY ALGEBRA14
TEECHER COMING OUT OF A PUB AND I FLOAT UP TO HIM AND SAY ‘BOO!’ AND HE
LETS OUT A FRIGHTSOME HOWL AND DASHES BACK INTO THE PUB AND THEN I IS
WAKING UP AND FEELING HAPPY AS A WHIFFSQUIDDLER.
‘Pretty ridiculous,’ Sophie said. All the same, she couldn’t resist reaching down and pressing her
own tummy button to see if it worked. Nothing happened.
‘Dreams is very mystical things,’ the BFG said. ‘Human beans is not understanding them at all.
Not even their brainiest prossefors is understanding them. Has you seen enough?’
‘Just this last one,’ Sophie said. ‘This one here.’
She started reading:
I HAS RITTEN A BOOK AND IT IS SO EXCITING NOBODY CAN PUT IT DOWN. AS
SOON AS YOU HAS RED THE FIRST LINE YOU IS SO HOOKED ON IT YOU CANNOT
STOP UNTIL THE LAST PAGE. IN ALL THE CITIES PEEPLE IS WALKING IN THE STREETS
BUMPING INTO EACH OTHER BECAUSE THEIR FACES IS BURIED IN MY BOOK AND
DENTISTS IS READING IT AND TRYING TO FILL TEETHS AT THE SAME TIME BUT
NOBODY MINDS BECAUSE THEY IS ALL READING IT TOO IN THE DENTIST’S CHAIR.
DRIVERS IS READING IT WHILE DRIVING AND CARS IS CRASHING ALL OVER THE
COUNTRY. BRAIN SURGEONS IS READING IT WHILE THEY IS OPERATING ON BRAINS
AND AIRLINE PILOTS IS READING IT AND GOING TO TIMBUCTOO INSTEAD OF
LONDON. FOOTBALL PLAYERS IS READING IT ON THE FIELD BECAUSE THEY CAN’T
PUT IT DOWN AND SO IS OLIMPICK RUNNERS WHILE THEY IS RUNNING. EVERYBODY
HAS TO SEE WHAT IS GOING TO HAPPEN NEXT IN MY BOOK AND WHEN I WAKE UP I
IS STILL TINGLING15 WITH EXCITEMENT AT BEING THE GREATEST RITER THE WORLD
HAS EVER KNOWN UNTIL MY MUMMY COMES IN AND SAYS I WAS LOOKING AT
YOUR ENGLISH EXERCISE BOOK LAST NITE AND REALLY YOUR SPELLING IS
ATROSHUS SO IS YOUR PUNTULASHON.
‘That’s enough for now,’ the BFG said. ‘There is diluons more but my arm is getting tired
holding you up.’
‘What are all those over there?’ Sophie said. ‘Why have they got such tiny labels?’
‘That,’ the BFG said, ‘is because one day I is catching16 so many dreams I is not having the time
or energy to write out long labels. But there is enough to remind me.’
‘Can I look?’ Sophie said.
The long-suffering BFG carried her across to the jars she was pointing to. Sophie read them
rapidly, one after the other:
I IS CLIMBING MOUNT EVERAST WITH JUST MY PUSSY-CAT FOR CUMPANY.
I IS INVENTING A CAR THAT RUNS ON TOOTHPASTE.
I IS ABLE TO MAKE THE ELEKTRIK LITES GO ON AND OFF JUST BY WISHING IT.
I IS ONLY AN EIGHT YEAR OLD LITTLE BOY BUT I IS GROWING A SPLENDID
BUSHY BEARD AND ALL THE OTHER BOYS IS JALOUS.
I IS ABEL TO JUMP OUT OF ANY HIGH WINDOW AND FLOTE DOWN SAFELY.
I HAS A PET BEE THAT MAKES ROCK AND ROLL MUSIK WHEN IT FLIES.
‘What amazes me,’ Sophie said, ‘is how you ever learned to write in the first place.’
‘Ah,’ said the BFG. ‘I has been wondering how long it is before you is asking me that.’
‘Considering you never went to school, I think it’s quite marvellous,’ Sophie said. ‘How did you
learn?’
The BFG crossed the cave and opened a tiny secret door in the wall. He took out a book, very
old and tattered17. By human standards, it was an ordinary sized book, but it looked like a postage
stamp in his huge hand.
‘One night,’ he said, ‘I is blowing a dream through a window and I sees this book lying on the
little boy’s bedroom table. I wanted it so very badly, you understand. But I is refusing to steal it. I
would never do that.’
‘So how did you get it?’ Sophie asked.
‘I borrowed it,’ the BFG said, smiling a little. ‘Just for a short time I borrowed it.’
‘How long have you had it?’ Sophie asked.
‘Perhaps only about eighty years,’ the BFG said. ‘Soon I shall be putting it back.’
‘And that’s how you taught yourself to write?’ Sophie asked him.
‘I is reading it hundreds of times,’ the BFG said. ‘And I is still reading it and teaching new
words to myself and how to write them. It is the most scrum-diddlyumptious story.’
Sophie took the book out of his hand. ‘Nicholas Nickleby,’ she read aloud.
‘By Dahl’s Chickens,’ the BFG said.
‘By who?’ Sophie said.
Just then, there came a tremendous noise of galloping18 feet from outside the cave. ‘What’s that?’
Sophie cried.
‘That is all the giants zippfizzing off to another country to guzzle20 human beans,’ the BFG said.
He quickly popped Sophie into his waistcoat pocket, then hurried to the cave entrance and rolled
back the stone.
Sophie, peeping out of her spy-hole, saw all nine of the fearsome giants coming past at full
gallop19.
‘Where is you off to tonight?’ shouted the BFG.
‘We is all of us flushbunking off to England tonight,’ answered the Fleshlumpeater as they went
galloping past. ‘England is a luctuous land and we is fancying a few nice little English chiddlers.’
‘I,’ shouted the Maidmasher, ‘is knowing where there is a gigglehouse for girls and I is guzzling21
myself full as a frothblower!’
‘And I knows where there is a bogglebox for boys!’ shouted the Gizzardgulper. ‘All I has to do
is reach in and grab myself a handful! English boys is tasting extra lickswishy!’
In a few seconds, the nine galloping giants were out of sight.
‘What did he mean?’ Sophie said, poking22 her head out of the pocket. ‘What is a gigglehouse for
girls?’
‘He is meaning a girls’ school,’ the BFG said. ‘He will be eating them by the bundle.’
‘Oh no!’ cried Sophie.
‘And boys from a boys’ school,’ said the BFG.
‘It mustn’t happen!’ Sophie cried out. ‘We’ve got to stop them! We can’t just sit here and do
nothing!’
‘There’s not a thing we can do,’ the BFG said. ‘We is helpless as horsefeathers.’ He sat down on
a large craggy blue rock near the entrance to his cave. He took Sophie from his pocket and put her
beside him on the rock. ‘It is now quite safe for you to be outside until they is coming back,’ he said.
The sun had dipped below the horizon and it was getting dark.
梦
好心眼儿巨人坐在他山洞里的那张大桌子旁边，他在做他的作业。
索菲靠近他，盘腿坐在桌子上，看他干活儿。
装着他们捉来的惟一一个好梦的玻璃瓶放在桌子上。
好心眼儿巨人正在用一枝巨大的铅笔在一张纸上很小心、很耐心地写着什么。
“你在写什么啊？”索菲问他。
“每一个梦在瓶子上都有它特殊的标签。”好心眼儿巨人说，“不这样我怎么能找到我要找
的梦呢？”
“可你光靠着听，真能说出那是个什么梦吗？”索菲问道。
“我能。”好心眼儿巨人头也不抬地回答。
“可你怎么能听出来呢？是听它嗡嗡响的声音吗？”
“你说得大致不错。”好心眼儿巨人说，“世界上每一个梦都发出不同的嗡嗡声，只有我这
对伟大的耳朵能够听出这种音乐。”
“你说的音乐就是声调吧？”
“不光是声调。”
“那是什么呢？”
“人豆子有他们自己的音乐，对不对？”
“对，”索菲说，“有许多音乐。”
“人豆子听到了美妙的音乐，他们有时候会非常入迷。他们会浑身颤抖，一直颤抖到尾
骨，对不对？”
“对。”索菲说。
“因此音乐是在对他们说着什么东西。音乐在传递一种信息。我不认为人豆子知道那是什
么信息，可他们照样喜欢它。”
“这差不多对。”索菲说。
“可因为我有这对了不起的耳朵，”好心眼儿巨人说，“我不但能够听见梦所奏出的音乐，
而且我还明白它。”
“你说明白它是什么意思？”索菲问道。
“我能读出它来，”好心眼儿巨人说，“它对我说话。它像是一种语言。”
“我觉得这有点难以相信。”索菲说。
“我敢打赌，对外星人你也觉得有点难以相信，”好心眼儿巨人说，“他们是怎样从星球上
来探望我们的。”
“当然，我不相信这个。”索菲说。
好心眼儿巨人用他那双大眼睛严肃地看着她。“我要请你原谅，”他说，“如果我告诉你，
人豆子自以为非常聪明，实际上并非如此。他们所知不多，就知道叽叽喳喳。”
“对不起，我不明白你的意思。”索菲说。
“人豆子的问题是，”好心眼儿巨人说下去，“他们绝对不肯相信任何事情，除非事情摆到
了他们的鼻子前面，他们亲眼看到了。外星人当然是存在的。我经常碰到他们。我甚至和他
们聊天。”他用看不起的神气把眼光从索菲身上转开，重新去写他的字。索菲靠过去读他已经
写出来的东西。字写得又大又随便，不过写得不太好。下面就是他写的：
这个梦是关于我怎样把溺水的老师救起来。我从一座高高的桥上跳下去，潜到水里，把
老师拉到岸上，然后我给他那个死亡之吻……
“什么之吻？”索菲问道。
好心眼儿巨人停止了书写，慢慢地抬起头来。他的眼睛停在索菲的脸上，“我已经告诉过
你，”他安静地说，“我从来没有机会进学校。我写错的字很多。它们全是我的错。我要尽力
写对。你是一个可爱的小姑娘，可请你记住，你也不完全是个无所不知的小姐。”
“对不起，”索菲说，“我真抱歉。我老是纠正你的错，这是很没有礼貌的。”
好心眼儿巨人又看了她一会儿，然后重新低下头去慢慢地用心写字。
“请老实告诉我，”索菲说，”如果我睡着了，你把这个梦吹进我的卧室，我真会做梦从桥
上跳下水，潜到水里救我溺水的老师吗？”
“不仅如此，”好心眼儿巨人说，“还要多得多。可我不能在一张小纸片上写下整个冗长的
梦。梦见的东西还要多。”
好心眼儿巨人放下他的铅笔，把一只大耳朵靠到瓶子上。他聚精会神地听了大约三十秒
钟。“对，”他严肃地摆动着大脑袋说，“这个梦做下去非常好。它有一个非常美满的结局。”
“结局是怎么样的？”索菲说，“请你告诉我好吗？”
“你会在梦里看见，”好心眼儿巨人说，“你从河中救了老师的第二天早晨到学校，全校五
百名学生坐在大礼堂里，还有全校的老师。校长站起来说：‘我要全校为索菲三呼万岁，因为
她是这样勇敢，救了我们优秀的数学老师菲金斯先生的性命。他不幸被我们的体育老师阿米
莉亚·沈气霍仙小姐从桥上推下了河。因此，我们为索菲三呼万岁吧！’全校师生于是发疯似的
高呼万岁，呼得真棒。而且从此以后，尽管你的加法一塌糊涂，菲金斯先生总是给你满分，
并且在你的练习本上批上‘索菲成绩优良’。这时候你醒来了。”
“我喜欢这个梦。”索菲说。
“你当然喜欢，”好心眼儿巨人说，“这是一个‘仙境游’。”他舔舔标签纸背面，把它贴在瓶
子上。“我在标签上常常写得比这多一些，”他说，“不过你这么盯住我看，这让我很紧张。”
“那么我走开，坐到别的地方去吧。”索菲说。
“不要走开，”他说，“你往这只瓶子里仔细看看，我想你会看到这个梦的。”
于是索菲朝这只瓶子里看，一点儿不假，她看到了一种东西半透明的淡淡轮廓，大小跟
一枚鸡蛋差不多。上面只有一抹颜色，淡蓝绿色，柔和，闪亮，非常美丽。它躺在那里，这
个椭圆形果冻似的蓝绿色小东西，十分安静，它慢慢地搏动着，轻微地一收一放，像是在呼
吸。
“它在动！”索菲叫道，“它是活的！”
“它当然是活的。”
“你喂它什么呢？”索菲问道。
“它用不着食物。”好心眼儿巨人告诉她。
“那太残酷了。”索菲说，“所有活的东西都需要某一种食物，甚至树木花草都需要。”
“北风是活的，”好心眼儿巨人说，“它在动。它抚摸你的脸，抚摸你的手，可没有人给它
东西吃。”
索菲回答不上来。这个不同寻常的巨人在搅乱她的思路，他似乎在把她引到不是她所能
理解的神秘世界里去。
“梦不需要任何东西，”好心眼儿巨人说下去，“如果它是个好梦，它总是安安静静地等
着，直到把它释放出来，让它去完成任务。如果它是个噩梦，它总是挣扎着要出来。”
好心眼儿巨人站起来，走到一个架子前面，把这最新的瓶子放到许多瓶子中间去。
“对不起，我可以看看别的梦吗？”索菲问他。
好心眼儿巨人犹豫了一下。“以前从来没有人看过，”他说，“不过我也许还是可以让你看
一下。”他把她从桌子上抓起来，让她站到他巨大的手掌上。他带她到架子前面，“这里是一
些好的梦，”他说，“是些‘仙境游’。”
“你可以把我靠得近一些，让我读出标签上的字来吗？”索菲问。
“那些标签上只有三言两语，”好心眼儿巨人说，“梦通常要长得多。标签只是用来提醒我
的。”
索菲开始读标签。第一张对她来说好像够长了。标签绕过整只瓶子，她读的时候得一直
转动瓶子。标签上是这么说的：
今天我坐在教室里，发现我如果用一种特殊的方式死死盯住老师看，我能够让她睡觉，
于是我一直这样盯住她看。最后她的头落到写字台上，她睡着了，很响地打起呼噜来。这时
候校长大踏步进来，大叫：“快醒醒，普拉姆里奇小姐！你怎么能在教室里睡觉！去拿你的帽
子和大衣吧，离开学校就再也不要回来了！你被开除啦！”可是我一下子让校长也睡着了，他
像一块喱那样软绵绵地慢慢躺到地板上，躺在那里像一堆肉，打呼噜的声音甚至比普拉姆里
奇小姐的还要响。就在这时候，我听见了我妈妈的声音说：“醒醒，你的早饭已经好了。”
“一个多么好玩的梦！”索菲说。
“这是一个‘摇铃铛’。”好心眼儿巨人说，“这是个好玩的梦。”
在瓶子里，就在标签下面，索菲看得见这让人睡着的梦安静地待在瓶底，缓缓地跳动着
脉搏，跟另一个梦同是蓝绿色的，不过这个也许大一些。
“你给男生和女生的梦不相同吧？”索菲问道。
“当然，”好心眼儿巨人说，“如果我把给女生的梦给了男生，哪怕是个真正好的女生的
梦，男生醒过来会想：那个梦太次了，全是假的，老掉牙，没劲！”
“男生们是会这样说的。”索菲说。
“这个架子上全是女生的梦。”好心眼儿巨人说。
“我能读一个男生的梦吗？”
“可以。”好心眼儿巨人说着，把她托到一层高一点儿的架子前面。最近的一个男生的
梦，瓶子上是这样写的：
我给自己做了一双会吸住的了不起靴子。一把它们穿上，我就能够在厨房的墙上和天花
板上直着身子走。好，正当我倒过头来走在天花板上的时候，我的姐姐进来了。她开始冲我
大叫。她总是这样冲着我大喊大叫的，问我干吗在天花板上走。我低头看她，笑着说：“我告
诉你吧，你逼我上墙，现在你做到了。”
“我觉得这个梦挺傻的。”索菲说。
“男生可不这么想。”好心眼儿巨人咧开嘴笑着说，“这是另一个‘摇铃铛’。也许你现在已
经看够了。”
“让我再来读一个男生的梦。”索菲说。
另一张标签上写道：
我家电话铃响了，我爸爸拿起电话，用他通常对电话说话的那种煞有介事的声音说：“我
是辛普金斯。”接着他的脸发白，声音变得滑稽极了，说：“什么！你是谁？”接着他
说：“是，您哪，我明白，您哪，不过您真要找的是我，您哪，而不是我的小儿子吧？”我爸
爸的脸一下子从白变成深紫色，大大咽了一口口水，像是有一只牡蛎堵住了他的喉咙似的。
最后他说：“是，您哪，很好，您哪，我去叫他，您哪。”接着他向我转过身来，用恭恭敬敬
的声音说：“你认识美国总统？”我说：“不，不过我希望他听说过我。”接着我在电话里讲了
半天，说诸如此类的话：“让我照顾它吧，总统先生。如果你照你的办法做，你会搞糟
的。”我爸爸的眼睛都瞪得蹦出了他的脑袋。而就在这个时候，我听见我爸爸的真正声音
说：“起床，你这懒骨头，再不起来，你上学就要迟到了！”
“男生都那么疯狂，”索菲说，“让我再读这一个。”索菲开始读接下来的一张标签：
我洗澡时发现，只要我用力按紧肚脐眼，我浑身会有一种很好玩的感觉：我的腿忽然没
有了，我的胳膊也没有了。事实上，我整个人完全隐身不见了。我人还在那里，可没有人能
看见我，连我自己也看不见自己。于是我的妈妈走进浴室，说：“那小家伙哪儿去了！刚才他
还在浴缸里，不可能真把他自己洗掉的！”于是我说：“我在这里。”她说：“哪里？”我说：“这
里。”她说：“哪里？”我说：“这里！”她大叫起来：“亨利！快来！”我爸爸冲进来，这时候我
正洗着身子，我爸爸只看到肥皂在空气里飘来飘去，可当然看不见我。他大叫道：“你在哪
里，孩子？”我说：“我在这里。”他说：“哪里？”我说：“这里。”他说：“哪里？”我说：“这
里！”他说：“那肥皂，孩子！那肥皂！它在半空里飞！”这时候我又按按我的肚脐眼，于是我
看得见了。我爸爸激动得像喝醉了似的，他说：“你是个隐身人！”我说：“现在我去找点儿乐
子。”我走出浴缸，擦干身体，穿上睡袍和拖鞋。我又按按肚脐眼，整个人又都看不见了，我
下楼到外面去，走在街上。当然，看不见的只是我这个人，不是我穿的东西。因此，路人看
见一件睡袍和一双拖鞋没有人穿着，一路上飘飘荡荡，一下子恐慌起来，大叫：“有鬼！有
鬼！”左边人也尖叫，右边人也尖叫，那些身强力壮的大个子警察们拼命地跑来，跑得命也不
要了。我看见我的代数老师格拉米特先生正从酒馆里出来，我向他飘过去说：“呼！”他一声
惊叫，逃回酒馆。这时候我一路向前走，高兴得像条乌贼鱼。
“真是荒唐！”索菲说。不过她还是忍不住把手伸下去按按自己的肚脐眼，看有没有用。
什么都没有发生。
“梦是很神秘的东西。”好心眼儿巨人说，“人豆子根本不懂得梦，连最有头脑的教授也不
懂得它们。你看够了吗？”
“就看这最后一个，”索菲说，“这一个。”
她开始读：
我写了一本书，它太刺激了，谁看到都放不下来。你只要读第一行就会被吸引住，非看
到最后一页不可。在所有的城市里，走路的人你撞我我撞你，就因为他们的头都埋在我这本
书里。牙科医生一边读一边给病人补牙，病人也无所谓，因为他们在牙科医生的椅子上也在
读。司机一边读一边开车，汽车在乡下撞得翻了个身。脑外科医生一边读一边做脑袋的开刀
手术。飞机驾驶员一边读一边开飞机，结果飞机不是飞到伦敦而是飞到了马里的廷巴克图。
足球队员在足球场上一边读一边踢球，因为他们放不下书。奥林匹克赛跑运动员也这么一边
读一边跑。人人都想知道在我的书里接下来怎么样。等到我醒来，我依旧满心兴奋，我成为
世界上有史以来最伟大的作家，直到我妈妈进来说：“我昨天晚上看了你的练习簿，你的拼写
实在糟透了，标点符号也一塌糊涂。”
“暂时看到这里为止吧。”好心眼儿巨人说，“还有千万个梦，可是一直托着你，我的胳膊
都酸了。”
“那边的又是些什么梦呢？”索菲说，“为什么它们的标签那么小？”
“那是因为，”好心眼儿巨人说，“有一天我捉到的梦太多，没有时间也没有精力写长的标
签。不过这样写两句也就能提醒我了。”
“我可以看看吗？”索菲问道。
托着她的好心眼儿巨人只好带她到那些瓶子前面。索菲一张张标签很快地读过去：
我攀登埃佛勒斯峰 [1] ，只带着我的猫。
我发明一种汽车，发动它不用汽油，而用牙膏。
我想要电灯开它就开，想要电灯关它就关。
我虽然只是个八岁男孩，却长着一把漂亮的大胡子，其他男孩见了没有不眼红的。
我能跳出任何高窗子而轻飘飘地安全落地。
我有一只宠物蜜蜂，它飞的时候能奏出摇滚音乐。
“我觉得惊奇的，”索菲说，“首先是你怎么学会写字的。”
“啊，”好心眼儿巨人说，“我正在想，你要到什么时候才问我这个问题呢。”
“你从来没有进过学校，我想，你能写字真是十分了不起的事情。”索菲说，“你是怎样学
会的呢？”
好心眼儿巨人走过山洞，打开墙上的一扇秘密小门。他拿出一本书，一本很旧很破的
书。从人的标准来说，这是一本普通大小的书，可在他那只巨手里，它看上去只有邮票那么
大。
“有一天夜里，”他说，“我正把梦吹进一个窗口，看见这本书放在一个小男孩卧室的桌子
上。你明白，我极其想要它，可是我不肯偷，我永远不做这种事。”
“那你是怎样把它弄到手的呢？”索菲问道。
“我把它借回来，”好心眼儿巨人笑了笑说，“我只借很短的时间。”
“那你借了多久啦？”索菲问道。
“大概八年吧。”好心眼儿巨人说，“很快我就要还回去了。”
“你就是这样自学写字的吗？”索菲问他。
“我把它读了几百遍。”好心眼儿巨人说，“我现在还在读，自学新的字，把它们写出来。
这是个最了不起的故事。”
索菲从他手里把书拿起来，“《尼古拉斯·尼可贝》 [2] 。”她读出声来。
“是炒肉丝·炒肝丝写的。”好心眼儿巨人说。
“是谁写的？”索菲问。
就在这时候，山洞外面传来响得吓人的脚步声。“什么事？”索菲问。
“是那些巨人赶着到别的国家吃人豆子去了。”好心眼儿巨人说。他赶紧把索菲放进他的
背心口袋，到山洞口把那块大石头滚到一边。
索菲从她的窥视孔朝外看，看到九个可怕的巨人飞快地在外面跑过。
“你们今天夜里上哪儿去啊？”好心眼儿巨人大声问。
“我们今天夜里全去英国。”巨人们跑过时，吃人肉块巨人回答说，“英国是个好地方，我
们想吃几个英国小娃娃人豆子。”
“我，”啃姑娘巨人叫道，“知道有个女孩叽喳屋，我要去大吃一顿，吃得饱饱的，像个喝
饱啤酒的人！”
“我知道有个男孩百音盒！”大吃特吃内脏巨人叫道，“我只要伸出手去就可以抓到一大
把！英国男孩的味道特别叫人流口水！”
一转眼的工夫，那九个巨人就跑得没影了。
“他这话是什么意思？”索菲把头伸出口袋说，“女孩叽喳屋是什么？”
“他说的就是女童学校。”好心眼儿巨人说，“他要一把一把地吃。”
“噢，不！”索菲叫道。
“还要到男童学校吃。”好心眼儿巨人说。
“绝不可以让这样的事发生！”索菲叫起来，“我们得阻止他们！我们不能只是坐在这里一
点儿事情也不做！”
“我们什么事也做不成，”好心眼儿巨人说，“我们像废话一样没用处。”他坐在山洞口附
近一块蓝色的毛糙大石头上。他把索菲从口袋里拿出来，放在这块石头上，“在他们回来之
前，你在外面十分安全。”他说。
太阳已经落到地平线下，天黑下来了。
[1]即珠穆朗玛峰。
[2]这是英国作家查尔斯·狄更斯写的小说。
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
tunes
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| n.曲调，曲子( tune的名词复数 )v.调音( tune的第三人称单数 )；调整；（给收音机、电视等）调谐；使协调 | |
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2
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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3
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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4
laborious
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| adj.吃力的，努力的，不流畅 | |
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5
translucent
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| adj.半透明的；透明的 | |
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6
shimmering
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| v.闪闪发光，发微光( shimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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7
crumples
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| 压皱，弄皱( crumple的第三人称单数 )； 变皱 | |
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8
snorkelling
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| v.使用水下呼吸管潜游( snorkel的现在分词 ) | |
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9
gulping
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| v.狼吞虎咽地吃，吞咽( gulp的现在分词 )；大口地吸（气）；哽住 | |
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10
lobster
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| n.龙虾，龙虾肉 | |
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11
bungle
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| v.搞糟；n.拙劣的工作 | |
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12
goggling
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| v.睁大眼睛瞪视， （惊讶的）转动眼珠( goggle的现在分词 ) | |
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13
slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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14
algebra
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| n.代数学 | |
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15
tingling
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| v.有刺痛感( tingle的现在分词 ) | |
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16
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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17
tattered
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| adj.破旧的，衣衫破的 | |
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18
galloping
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| adj. 飞驰的, 急性的 动词gallop的现在分词形式 | |
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19
gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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20
guzzle
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| v.狂饮，暴食 | |
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21
guzzling
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| v.狂吃暴饮，大吃大喝( guzzle的现在分词 ) | |
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22
poking
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| n. 刺，戳，袋 vt. 拨开，刺，戳 vi. 戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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