“Fe, fi, fo, fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman;
Be he alive, or be he dead, I’ll grind his bones to make my bread.”
[h]e called out, for he could smell Jack, though he could not see him.
“Well,” said Jack, taking off his coat, “you may catch me if you like.” Then round the courtyard he ran with the giant after him. Across the drawbridge he darted, and after him lumbered the giant, but his weight was so great that crash went the bridge, and he fell in the moat and was drowned.
Jack The Giant Killer.
W. B. Conkey Company: New York. 1898.
Elephant's Picture Book 
Poor old Giant! They all look so jolly!
Don’t feel too sorry for the Giant – he has his fun too – grinding up Englishmen makes him smile!
Elephant
Not the usual end for the giant!
They all look as though thet’re having so much fun!
They are a happy group!
1898! Didn’t realise the story was that old!
Oh, that giant has been fee fi fo fumming for a very long time!
Elephant
To this very day!