In the months ahead, Mrs Weaver’s most well behaved boy, named Stanley, noticed that a number of naughty boys had simply not turned up to classes on particular days, never to be seen again. Mrs Weaver herself was a divorced woman, who was disinclined to show any mercy to her more rebellious students. Some divorcees had asked God to heal them of the damage of their broken marriages, and been able to go on and enjoy happy lives and even successful second marriages. Others had left their wounds untreated, and become bitter and unwilling to trust anyone again.

At times Mrs Weaver even envied the giantess Mrs Grimble and did not relish the fact that she had to farm the pleasure of eating her naughty students out to someone who was big enough to do it.

One day Stanley was sitting in the gardens of the school, in a favourite place where he was surrounded and concealed by plants and left to himself undisturbed. Then he heard Mrs Weaver’s voice coming from the other side of the garden.

“You won’t get away, little boy! You’re going to be the first goblin in my tummy!”

Crouching down low, he peeked across, looking between plants and saw a tiny being running between flowers, and saw Mrs Weaver crawling after the goblin boy until she caught him. Had she gone any further, she might well have spied Stanley’s hiding place.

“Please let me go!” said the goblin boy, who was in fact one of Sylvie’s and Bruno’s people.

“I don’t think so, little boy,” said Mrs Weaver, “You don’t have any recognised rights in this school at your size. I’m going to eat you all up.”

As Mrs Weaver forced the goblin into her mouth, Stanley looked on in awe. Not once did he consider the unfairness in the behaviour of a teacher who had always enforced good behaviour in her class. He wasn’t confused by the incongruence of her actions. She had claimed that, from her perspective, the tiny goblin did not have any arguable right not to be eaten, and she was just doing with him as she saw fit. The entire scene had been so captivating to Stanley, that he envied the goblin. How he would have liked to have been in that goblin’s place.

Instead he would remain a normal sized student boy who came up to some height about halfway between Mrs Weaver’s knees and her thighs. He would continue on has her student, and she would never look upon him as that appealingly tasty tiny being that she had just eaten. Stanley saw Mrs Weaver stand up and make her way out of the garden with the goblin boy now in her tummy and walk off.

After school he began the short walk home, and kept thinking back to the amazing sight of Mrs Weaver’s tongue hanging out of her mouth and the goblin boy being lowered onto it.

“What’s the matter? You look unhappy,” said a much older girl, who was almost an adult.