Jack and his mother lived all alone in a little hut with a garden in
front of it, and they had nothing else in the world but a cow named
Blackey.
One time Blackey went dry; not a drop of milk would she give. “See
there now!” said the mother. “If Blackey doesn’t give us milk we can’t
afford to keep her. You’ll have to take her off to market, Jack, and
sell her for what you can get.”
Jack was sorry that the little cow had to be sold, but he put a halter
around her neck and started off with her.
He had not gone far, when he met a little old man with a long gray
beard.
“Well, Jack,” said the little old man, “where are you taking Blackey
this fine morning?”
Jack was surprised that the stranger should know his name, and that of
the cow, too, but he answered politely, “Oh, I am taking her to market
to sell her.”
“There is no need for you to go as far as that,” said the little old
man, “for I will buy her from you for a price.”
“What price would you give me?” asked Jack, for he was a sharp lad.
“Oh, I will give you a handful of beans for her,” said the old man.
“No, no,” Jack shook his head. “That would be a fine bargain for you;
but it is not beans but good silver money that I want for my cow.”
“But wait till you see the beans,” said the old man; and he drew out a
handful of them from his pocket. When Jack saw them his eyes sparkled,
for they were such beans as he had never seen before. They were of all
colors, red and green and blue and purple and yellow, and they shone as
though they had been polished. But still Jack shook his head. It was
silver pieces his mother wanted, not beans.
“Then I will tell you something further about these beans,” said the
man. “This is such a bargain as you will never strike again; for these
are magic beans. If you plant them they will grow right up to the sky
in a single night, and you can climb up there and look about you if
you like.”
When Jack heard that he changed his mind, for he thought such beans as
that were worth more than a cow. He put Blackey’s halter in the old
man’s hand, and took the beans and tied them up in his handkerchief and
ran home with them.
His mother was surprised to see him back from market so soon.
“Well, and have you sold Blackey?” she asked.
Yes, Jack had sold her.
“And what price did you get for her?”
Oh, he got a good price.
“But how much? How much? Twenty-five dollars? Or twenty? Or even ten?”
Oh, Jack had done better than that. He had sold her to an old man down
there at the turn of the road for a whole handful of magic beans; and
then Jack hastened to untie his handkerchief and show the beans to his
mother.
But when the widow heard he had sold the cow for beans she was ready to
cry for anger. She did not care how pretty they were, and as to their
being magic beans she knew better than to believe that. She gave Jack
such a box on the ears that his head rang with it, and sent him up to
bed without his supper, and the beans she threw out of the window.
The next morning when Jack awoke he did not know what had happened. All
of the room was dim and shady and green, and there was no sky to be
seen from the window,—only greenness.
He slipped from bed and looked out, and then he saw that one of the
magic beans had taken root in the night and grown and grown until it
had grown right up to the sky. Jack leaned out of the window and looked
up and he could not see the top of the vine, but the bean-stalk was
stout enough to bear him, so he stepped out onto it and began to climb.
He climbed and he climbed until he was high above the roof-top and
high above the trees. He climbed till he could hardly see the garden
down below, and the birds wheeled about him and the wind swayed the
bean-stalk. He climbed so high that after awhile he came to the sky
country, and it was not blue and hollow as it looks to us down here
below. It was a land of flat green meadows and trees and streams, and
Jack saw a road before him that led straight across the meadows to a
great tall gray castle.
Jack set his feet in the road and began to walk toward the castle.
He had not gone far when he met a lovely lady, and she was a fairy,
though Jack did not know it.
“Where are you going, Jack?” she asked.
“I’m going to yonder castle to have a look at it,” said Jack.
“That is well,” said the lady, “only you must be careful how you poke
about there, for that castle belongs to a very fierce and rich and
terrible giant: and now I will tell you something: all the riches he
has used to belong to your father; the giant stole them from him, so if
you can fetch anything away with you it will be a right and fair thing.”
Jack thanked her for what she told him, and then he went on, setting
one foot before the other.
After awhile he came to the castle, and there was a woman sweeping the
steps, and she was the giant’s wife.
When she saw Jack she looked frightened. “What do you want here?” she
cried. “Be off with you before my husband comes home, for if he finds
you here it will be the worse for you I can tell you.”
“Yes, yes, I know”; said Jack, “but I’ve had no breakfast, and I’m like
to drop I’m so hungry. Just give me a bite to stay my stomach and I’ll
be off.” The giant’s wife did not want to do that at all, but Jack
begged and coaxed until at last she let him come into the house and got
out a bit of bread and cheese for him.
Jack had hardly set down to it when there was a great noise and
stamping outside.
“Oh, mercy!” cried the giant’s wife, and she turned quite pale.
“There’s my husband coming in, and if he sees you here he’ll swallow
you down in a trice, and give me a beating into the bargain.”
When Jack heard that he did not like it at all. “Can you not hide me
some place?” he asked.
“Here, creep into this copper pot,” cried the woman, taking off the
lid. She helped Jack into the pot and put the lid over him, and she had
no more than done it before the giant came stumping into the room.
“Fee, fi, fo, fum!
I smell the blood of an Englishman!”
he roared.
“Be he alive or be he dead
I’ll grind his bones to make my bread.”
“What nonsense!” said his wife. “If anyone had come here don’t you
suppose I would have seen him? A crow flew over the roof and dropped a
bone down the chimney, and that is what you smell.”
When she said that the giant believed her. He sat down at the table and
called for breakfast. The woman set before him three whole roasted oxen
and two loaves of bread each as big as a hogshead, and the giant ate
them up in a twinkling.
“Now, wife, bring me my moneybags from the treasure-room,” he said.
His wife went out through a great door studded with nails, and when
she came back she brought two bags with her and set them on the table
in front of the giant. The giant untied the strings and opened them,
and they were full of clinking golden money. The giant sat there and
counted and counted the money. After it was all counted he put it back
in the bags again, and then he stretched his legs out in front of him
and went to sleep and snored until the rafters shook.
The giant’s wife worked around for awhile and then she went into
another room. Jack waited until he was sure she had gone, and then he
pushed the lid of the pot aside and crept out. He crept over to the
table and seized hold of the moneybags and made off with them, and
neither the giant nor his wife knew anything about it until Jack was
safe down the bean-stalk and home again.
When Jack’s mother saw the moneybags she was filled with wonder and
joy. “Those were once your father’s,” said she, “but they were stolen
from him, and never did I think to see them again.”
After that Jack and his mother lived well, they had plenty to eat and
drink, and good clothes to wear, and everything they wanted. And they
were not stingy; they shared their good luck with their neighbors as
well.
After awhile the money was almost gone. “I’ll just climb up the
bean-stalk again,” said Jack to himself, “and see what else the giant
has in his castle.”
He climbed and he climbed and he climbed, and after awhile he came to
the giant’s country, and there in front of him lay the road to the
castle. Jack walked along briskly, setting one foot in front of the
other till he came to the castle door, and as he saw no one he opened
the door and stepped inside.
There was the giant’s wife scouring the pots and pans, and when she saw
Jack she almost dropped the skillet she was holding.
“You here again?”
“Yes, here I am again,” said Jack.
“Then I wish you were some place else,” said the giant’s wife; “when
you were here before our moneybags were stolen, and I can’t help
thinking you had something to do with it.”
“Oh, oh! How can you think that?” cried Jack.
“Well, be off with you, anyway”; and the giant’s wife spoke quite
glumly. “I want no more strange lads around here.”
Yes, Jack would be off in a moment, but wouldn’t she give him a bite of
breakfast first?
No, the giant’s wife wouldn’t, and that was flat.
But Jack was not to be turned off so easily; he talked and begged and
argued, and while he was still talking they heard the giant at the door.
The giant’s wife was terribly scared, “Oh, if he finds you here won’t I
get a beating!” she cried.
“Quick; into the pot again!”
Jack crawled into the copper pot and the giant’s wife put the lid over
him.
The next moment the giant stamped into the room.
“Fee, fi, fo, fum,”
he bawled,
“I smell the blood of an Englishman;
Be he alive or be he dead,
I’ll grind his bones to make my bread!”
“Nonsense,” said his wife, “you’re always fancying things. Here, sit
down at the table and eat your breakfast. A crow flew over the roof and
dropped a bone in the fire, and that is what you smell.”
The giant sniffed about a bit, and then, still muttering to himself,
he sat down at the table and began to eat. After he had finished he
cried, “Now wife, bring me my little red hen from the treasure-room.”
His wife went into the treasure-room, and presently she came back with
a little red hen in her apron. She set it on the table before the
giant. The giant grinned till he showed all his teeth.
“My little red hen, my pretty red hen, lay,” said the giant.
As soon as he said that the hen laid an egg all of pure gold.
“My little red hen, my pretty red hen, lay!” said the giant. Then the
little red hen laid another egg.
“My little red hen, my pretty red hen, lay,” said the giant. Then the
hen laid a third egg.
“There!” said the giant, “that is enough for to-day. Now, wife, you can
take her back to the treasure-room again.”
His wife took up the hen and carried her off to the treasure-room,
but when she came back into the kitchen she forgot to shut the
treasure-room door behind her.
Then the giant stretched his legs out in front of him and went to
sleep and snored till the rafters shook.
His wife worked around in the kitchen, and after awhile, when she
wasn’t looking, Jack crept out of the pot. He crept over to the door of
the treasure-room and slipped through, and there was the little red hen
sitting comfortably on a golden nest.
Jack caught her up under his arm and she never made a sound. Then he
crept back through the kitchen and out through the door, and made off
down the road, and the giant’s wife never saw him at all.
But just as Jack reached the bean-stalk the hen began to cackle. This
woke the giant. “Wife, wife,” he roared, “someone is stealing my little
red hen,” and he ran out of the castle and looked all about him; but he
could see no one, for Jack was already half-way down the bean-stalk.
After that Jack and his mother never had any lack of anything, for
whenever he wanted money he had only to say, “My little red hen, my
pretty red hen, lay,” and the hen would lay a gold egg.
Still Jack was not satisfied. He wanted to see what else was in the
giant’s castle. So one day, without saying a word to his mother,
he climbed the bean-stalk and hurried along the road to the giant’s
castle. He did not want to meet the giant’s wife, for he thought maybe
she had guessed that it was he who had taken the giant’s hen, and the
moneybags, and so indeed she had, and what was more she had told the
giant all about it, too.
Jack crept up to the castle very carefully, and he saw no one. He
opened the castle door a crack and peeped in, and still he saw no one.
He pushed it open a little wider and then he ran in and across the
kitchen and hid himself in the great oven.
He had no more than done this before the giant’s wife came in. “Pfu!”
said she. “What a draft!” and she closed the outside door. Then she set
the giant’s breakfast on the table, still talking to herself. “The door
must have blown open,” said she. “I’m sure I closed it when I went out.”
Presently the giant came thumping and stumping into the house. The
moment he entered the room he began to bawl—
“Fee, 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.”
“What? What?” cried his wife, “I found the door open just now. Do you
suppose that dratted boy is in the house again?”
“If he is, I’ll soon put an end to him,” said the giant.
The giant’s wife ran to the copper pot and lifted the lid, and looked
inside it, but no one was there. Then she and the giant began to hunt
about. They looked in the cupboards and behind the doors, and every
place, but they never thought of looking in the oven.
“He can’t be here after all,” said the wife, “or we would have found
him. It must be something else you smell.”
So the giant sat down and began to eat his breakfast, but as he ate he
mumbled and grumbled to himself.
After he had finished he said, “Wife, bring out my golden harp to sing
for me.”
His wife went into the treasure-room and came back carrying a golden
harp. She set it on the table before the giant and at once it began
to make music, and the music was so beautiful that it melted the heart
to hear it. The giant’s wife sat down to listen, too, and presently
the music put them both to sleep. Then Jack crept out of the oven and
seized the harp and made off with it.
At once the harp began to call, “Master! master! help! Someone is
running off with me!”
The giant started out of sleep and looked about him. When he found the
harp gone he gave a roar like an angry bull. He ran to the door and
there was Jack already more than half-way down the road. “Stop! stop!”
cried the giant, but Jack had no idea of stopping. He ran until he
reached the bean-stalk, and then he began climbing down it as fast as
he could, still carrying the harp.
The giant followed and when he came to the bean-stalk he looked down,
and there was Jack far, far below him. The giant was not used to
climbing. He did not know whether to follow or not. Then the harp cried
again, “Help, master, help!” The giant hesitated no longer. He caught
hold of the bean-stalk and began to climb down.
By this time Jack had reached the ground. “Quick! quick, mother!” he
cried. “Bring me an ax.”
His mother came running with an ax. She did not know what he wanted it
for, but she knew he was in a hurry.
Jack seized the ax and began to chop the bean-stalk. The giant above
felt the stalk tremble. “Wait! wait a bit!” he cried, “I want to talk
to you!”
But before he could say anything more the bean-stalk was chopped
through and fell with a mighty crash, and as the giant fell with it
that was the end of him.
But Jack and his mother lived in peace and plenty forever after.
[Illustration]