The_Complete_Chronicles_of_Narnia_(volumes_1-7,_in_order_of_publication)

At first the height and steepness of the crag frightened them, but presently they noticed
that there was an easier way up on the left and that the road wound up towards it. It was a
terrible climb, after the journey they had already had, and Jill nearly gave up. Scrubb and
Puddleglum had to help her for the last hundred yards.
But in the end they stood before the castle gate. The portcullis was up and the gate open.
However tired you are, it takes some nerve to walk up to a giant's front door. In spite of
all his previous warnings against Harfang, it was Puddleglum who showed most courage.
"Steady pace, now," he said. "Don't look frightened, whatever you do. We've done the
silliest thing in the world by coming at all: but now that we are here, we'd best put a bold
face on it."
With these words he strode forward into the gateway, stood still under the arch where the
echo would help his voice, and called out as loud as he could.
"Ho! Porter! Guests who seek lodging."
And while he was waiting for something to happen, he took off his hat and knocked off
the heavy mass of snow which had gathered on its wide brim.
"I say," whispered Scrubb to Jill. "He may be a wet blanket, but he has plenty of pluck -
and cheek."
A door opened, letting out a delicious glow of firelight, and the Porter appeared. Jill bit
her lips for fear she should scream. He was not a perfectly enormous giant; that is to say,
he was rather taller than an apple tree but nothing like so tall as a telegraph pole. He had
bristly red hair, a leather jerkin with metal plates fastened all over it so as to make a kind
of mail shirt, bare knees (very hairy indeed) and things like puttees on his legs. He
stooped down and goggled at Puddleglum.
"And what sort of creature do you call yourself," he said.
Jill took her courage in both hands. "Please," she said, shouting up at the giant. "The
Lady of the Green Kirtle salutes the King of the Gentle Giants, and has sent us two
Southern children and this Marsh-wiggle (his name's Puddleglum) to your Autumn Feast.
- If it's quite convenient, of course," she added.
"Oho!" said the Porter. "That's quite a different story. Come in, little people, come in.
You'd best come into the lodge while I'm sending word to his Majesty." He looked at the
children with curiosity. "Blue faces," he said. "I didn't know they. were that colour. Don't
care about it myself. But I dare say you look quite nice to one another. Beetles fancy
other beetles, they do say."
"Our faces are only blue with cold," said Jill. "We're not this colour really."