Jack and the Beanstalk

Once upon a time, there lived a poor widow who had only one son, Jack, and a cow named Belyanka. Every morning, the cow gave milk, and the mother and son sold it at the market—that's how they made a living. But one day, Belyanka stopped giving milk, and they simply didn't know what to do.

"What are we going to do? What are we going to do?" the mother kept repeating, wringing her hands.

"Don't worry, Mom!" said Jack. "I'll find work somewhere."

"But you've already tried hiring yourself out, and no one would take you," replied the mother. "No, it seems we'll have to sell our Belyanka and use the money to open a shop or do something else."

"Alright, Mom," agreed Jack. "Today is market day, and I'll sell Belyanka quickly. Then we'll decide what to do."

So Jack took the cow by the rope and led her to the market. But he hadn't gone far when he met a strange old man.

"Good morning, Jack!" said the old man.

"Good morning to you too!" replied Jack, surprised that the old man knew his name.

"So, Jack, where are you headed?" asked the old man.

"To the market, to sell the cow."

"Ah, of course! Who else would trade cows but you!" laughed the old man. "But tell me, how many beans make five?"

"Two in each hand and one in your mouth!" answered Jack, who was no fool.

"Correct!" said the old man. "Look, here they are, these very beans!" And the old man pulled a handful of strange-looking beans from his pocket. "And since you're so clever," continued the old man, "I wouldn't mind trading with you—your cow for these beans!"

"Go on your way!" Jack snapped. "That would be better!"

"Ah, but you don't know what these beans are," said the old man. "Plant them tonight, and by morning they'll grow up to the sky."

"Really? Is that true?" Jack asked, surprised.

"Absolutely true! And if not, you can take your cow back."

"Alright!" agreed Jack. He handed Belyanka to the old man and put the beans in his pocket.

Jack turned back and arrived home early—it wasn't even dark yet.

"What! You're back already, Jack?" his mother exclaimed. "I see Belyanka isn't with you, so you sold her? How much did you get for her?"

"You'll never guess, Mom!" replied Jack.

"Oh? My dear boy! Five pounds? Ten? Fifteen? Surely not twenty!"

"I told you, you'll never guess! But what do you think of these beans? They're magical. Plant them tonight and..."

"What?!" Jack's mother cried. "Are you such a fool, such a blockhead, such an ass, that you gave away my Belyanka, the most milk-giving cow in the whole district, and a well-fed, smooth one at that, for a handful of nasty beans? Take that! Take that! Take that! And your precious beans—out the window! Now off to bed! And don't ask for food—you won't get a bite or a sip!"

So Jack went up to his attic room, sad and dejected: he felt sorry for his mother, and he was left without dinner.

Finally, he fell asleep.

When he woke up, he barely recognized his room. The sun lit only one corner, and the rest was pitch dark.

Jack jumped out of bed, got dressed, and went to the window. And what did he see? Something like a huge tree. His beans had sprouted. Jack's mother had thrown them out the window into the garden the night before, and they had grown into a massive stalk that stretched up and up until it reached the sky. It turned out the old man had been telling the truth!

The beanstalk had grown right next to Jack's window. Jack opened the window, jumped onto the stalk, and climbed up as if it were a ladder. He climbed and climbed and climbed until he finally reached the sky. There, he saw a long, wide road, straight as an arrow. He walked along this road, walking and walking, until he came to an enormous, towering house. And at the doorstep of this house stood an enormous, towering woman.

"Good morning, madam!" Jack said very politely. "Would you be so kind as to give me something to eat for breakfast?"

After all, Jack had gone to bed without dinner and was now as hungry as a wolf.

"Breakfast, you say?" said the enormous, towering woman. "You'll be breakfast yourself if you don't get out of here! My husband is an ogre, and his favorite dish is boys roasted in breadcrumbs. You'd better leave while you're still in one piece, or he'll be back soon."

"Oh, madam, I beg you, give me something to eat!" Jack insisted. "I haven't had a bite since yesterday morning. I'm telling the truth. And what does it matter? Whether I'm roasted or starve to death, it's all the same."

It must be said that the ogress wasn't a bad woman. She took Jack to the kitchen and gave him a piece of bread with cheese and a jug of milk. But Jack hadn't even finished half his breakfast when suddenly—thud! thud! thud!—the whole house shook from someone's footsteps.

"Oh dear! That's my husband!" gasped the ogress. "What to do? Quick, jump in here!"

And just as she managed to shove Jack into the oven, in came the ogre himself.

My, was he huge—a mountain of a man! Hanging from his belt were three calves, tied by their legs. The ogre untied them, threw them on the table, and said:

"Now, wife, fry me a couple for breakfast! Oh! What's that smell?

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."

"Oh, husband," said his wife. "You're imagining things. Maybe it's the smell of that little boy we had for lunch yesterday—remember, you liked him so much. Go wash up and change, and I'll prepare breakfast."

The ogre left, and Jack was about to climb out of the oven and run away, but the ogress stopped him.

"Wait until he falls asleep," she said. "After breakfast, he always takes a nap."
And so the ogre had his breakfast, then approached a huge chest, took out two bags of gold, and sat down to count the coins. He counted and counted, until finally he began to nod off and started snoring so loudly that the whole house shook again.

At that moment, Jack quietly crept out of the oven, tiptoed past the ogre, grabbed one of the bags of gold, and ran for his life! He rushed to the beanstalk, dropped the bag down into the garden, and began to climb down the stalk, lower and lower, until he finally reached his home.

Jack told his mother everything that had happened, handed her the bag of gold, and said:

"Well, Mom, was I right about those beans? You see, they really are magical!"

And so Jack and his mother began to live off the money from the bag. But eventually, the bag ran empty, and Jack decided to try his luck once more at the top of the beanstalk. One fine morning, he got up early and climbed the beanstalk, climbing and climbing and climbing, until he finally reached the familiar road and made his way to the enormous, towering house. Just like last time, a huge, towering woman stood at the doorstep.

"Good morning, madam," Jack said casually. "Would you be so kind as to give me something to eat?"

"Get out of here, boy!" replied the giantess. "Or my husband will eat you for breakfast. Oh, wait—aren’t you the boy who came here recently? You know, on that very day, my husband lost a bag of gold."

"How strange, madam!" said Jack. "I might actually know something about that, but I’m so hungry that I can’t say a word until I’ve eaten at least a bite."

The giantess was so overcome with curiosity that she let Jack in and gave him something to eat. Jack deliberately chewed as slowly as possible. But suddenly—thump! thump! thump!—the sound of the giant’s footsteps was heard, and the giantess hid Jack in the oven again.

Then everything happened just like last time: the ogre entered, said, "Fee-fi-fo-fum..." and so on, had breakfast with three roasted oxen, and then ordered his wife:

"Wife, bring me the hen that lays golden eggs!"

The giantess brought it, and the ogre said to the hen, "Lay!"—and it laid a golden egg. Then the ogre began to nod off and snored so loudly that the whole house shook.

At that moment, Jack quietly crept out of the oven, grabbed the golden hen, and made a run for it. But the hen clucked and woke the ogre. Just as Jack was running out of the house, the giant’s voice boomed:

"Wife, hey, wife, don’t touch my golden hen!"

And the wife replied:

"What are you imagining, husband?"

That was all Jack managed to hear. He ran as fast as he could to the beanstalk and practically slid down it.

Jack returned home, showed his mother the miraculous hen, and shouted:

"Lay!"

And the hen laid a golden egg. From then on, every time Jack told the hen to "lay," it would lay a golden egg.

And so it went. But Jack wasn’t satisfied with this, and soon he decided to try his luck once more at the top of the beanstalk. One fine morning, he got up early and climbed the beanstalk, climbing and climbing and climbing, until he reached the very top. This time, however, he was careful not to enter the ogre’s house right away. Instead, he crept up quietly and hid in the bushes. He waited until the giantess went to fetch water with a bucket, then—swish!—he slipped into the house. He climbed into a copper pot and waited. He didn’t have to wait long; suddenly, he heard the familiar "thump! thump! thump!" And in came the ogre and his wife.

"Fee-fi-fo-fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman!" shouted the ogre. "I smell it, wife!"

"Do you really smell it, husband?" said the giantess. "Well, if it’s that rascal who stole your gold and the hen with the golden eggs, he’s surely hiding in the oven!"

And both of them rushed to the oven. Good thing Jack wasn’t hiding there!

"Always with your 'fee-fi-fo-fum!'" said the ogre’s wife. "It’s probably the smell of that boy you caught yesterday. I just roasted him for your breakfast. What a memory I have! And you’re no better—after all these years, you still can’t tell the difference between a living spirit and a dead one!"

Finally, the ogre sat down to eat breakfast. But he kept muttering:

"Yes, yes, but I swear I still smell it..." and getting up from the table, he searched the pantry, the chests, the cupboards... He checked every nook and cranny, but he never thought to look in the copper pot.

After breakfast, the ogre shouted:

"Wife, wife, bring me my golden harp!" The wife brought the harp and placed it on the table in front of him.

"Sing!" ordered the ogre.

And the golden harp began to sing, so beautifully that it was enchanting! It sang and sang until the ogre fell asleep and began to snore so loudly that it sounded like thunder.

At that moment, Jack gently lifted the lid of the pot. He crept out as quietly as a mouse and crawled on all fours to the table. He climbed onto the table, grabbed the golden harp, and dashed for the door.

But the harp called out loudly:

"Master! Master!"

The ogre woke up and saw Jack running away with his harp.

Jack ran as fast as he could, with the ogre hot on his heels. The ogre would have caught him, but Jack reached the door first; besides, he knew the way well. He jumped onto the beanstalk, and the ogre followed. But suddenly, Jack disappeared. The ogre reached the end of the road and saw Jack far below, scrambling down with all his might. The giant was afraid to step onto the shaky beanstalk, so he stopped and stood there, while Jack climbed lower and lower. But then the harp called out again:

"Master! Master!"

The giant stepped onto the beanstalk, and it shook under his weight.

Jack kept climbing down, lower and lower, with the ogre close behind. When Jack reached the roof of his house, he shouted:

"Mom! Mom! Bring the axe, bring the axe!" His mother ran out with the axe in her hands, rushed to the beanstalk, and froze in horror: above, the giant’s massive legs were already piercing the clouds. Finally, Jack jumped to the ground, grabbed the axe, and struck the beanstalk with such force that he nearly split it in half.

The ogre felt the stalk swaying violently and stopped. "What’s happening?" he thought. Then Jack struck again with the axe—and completely severed the beanstalk. The stalk swayed and collapsed, and the ogre crashed to the ground, breaking his neck.

Jack showed his mother the golden harp, and they began to display it for money, as well as selling the golden eggs. When they became rich, Jack married a princess and lived happily ever after.

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Jack and the Beanstalk

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