Once upon a time, there was a poor widow who had a son named Jack. The widow was a good woman but had grown sad and gruff after a life of difficult times. Jack was a curious and daring boy. He always had his head in the clouds, daydreaming about a life full of excitement and adventure.

They lived in a tiny cottage on a small farm that never grew any crops. The only thing they had to eat was milk from a cow they called Milky-white. One day the cow’s milk dried up, so Jack’s mother ordered him to take the cow into town and sell it.

“Mother, we can’t sell Milky-white!” Jack said. “She’s like family to us!”

“We won’t be a family if we starve to death,” his mother said. “Life is filled with hard choices, Jack. Sometimes we have to do things we don’t like to survive, but in the end they only help us grow. Now take the cow into the village, sell her for a good price, and pick up a loaf of bread on your way home.”

Jack did as he was told but with a heavy heart. He walked Milky-white through the woods toward the nearest town but stopped when they encountered an old man on the path.

“Good afternoon, lad,” the man said. He was a wacky old geezer with a long beard and tattered clothes.

“Good afternoon, sir,” Jack replied.

“May I ask where you’re taking this fine specimen?” the old man asked.

“I’m taking her into town to sell her,” Jack said.

“My boy, it’s your lucky day!” the old man said. “I just happen to be in the market for a cow.”

“You want to buy Milky-white?” Jack asked.

“I’m afraid I don’t have a shilling to my name, but I’d be more than happy to make a trade for the beast,” the old man said.

“I’m not sure my mother would approve of a trade,” Jack said. “She told me to sell the cow and then bring back a loaf of bread for supper.”

“My boy, what I’m willing to trade you is worth more than all the bread in the kingdom!” the old man said.

The tradesman had gotten Jack’s attention, but he still wasn’t sure his mother would approve.

“What do you wish to trade?” Jack asked.

The old man reached into his raggedy coat and pulled out a handful of beans.

“Beans?” Jack asked. “But surely my cow is worth more than beans.”

“These aren’t just any beans,” the old man said with a twinkle in his eye. “These are magic beans! Guaranteed to grant your heart’s greatest desire.”

Jack’s eyes grew twice in size as he imagined the possibilities the beans might bring him.

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“Are you sure they’re magical?” Jack asked.

“Cross my heart and hope to die!” the old man said. He held up his palm and then crossed his stomach.

Jack swiped the beans out of the old man’s hands and handed over Milky-white’s reins. He was so excited, he ran straight home without saying good-bye to the tradesman.

“Mother! Mother!” Jack cried when he arrived home. “I’ve traded Milky-white for magic beans! The man in the woods says they’ll grant my heart’s greatest desire!”

He happily poured the beans into his mother’s open palm. She took one look at them and her face turned bright red.

“Stupid boy!” his mother said. “You’ve been tricked! There’s nothing magic about these beans! We’re most certainly going to starve now!”

The widow angrily tossed the beans out the window and burst into tears. She locked herself in her room and cried all night at her son’s foolishness. Jack went to bed mad with himself too. He couldn’t believe how easily he had been deceived. He was so hopeful for a better life, he had let his hope cloud his judgment.

The following morning Jack awoke to a terrible screech. He hopped out of bed and found his mother in a panic outside.

“Look, Jack!” she cried and pointed to the sky. “A beanstalk grew last night while we were sleeping!”

Growing straight out of the ground was a massive beanstalk. It was so tall, it stretched into the sky and disappeared above the clouds.

“The beans! They must have grown when you tossed them out the window,” Jack shouted triumphantly. “They were magic after all!”

“Now help me gather some leaves, and I’ll cook us a nice beanstalk stew,” the widow said.

Jack ignored his mother’s wishes and immediately started climbing the beanstalk.

“Jack, get down!” the widow ordered. “You’re going to get hurt!”

Still, Jack ignored her. He couldn’t help himself; this was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to him. He had spent years hoping to find a little adventure, and an adventure had found him.

The higher he climbed, the better the view became of the land around him. He climbed so far up the beanstalk that he could see the entire kingdom—and even the kingdoms beyond it. When he reached the clouds, he was so high up that his house was just a tiny spot below and he couldn’t hear his mother’s shouts imploring him to climb down. He stroked the clouds with his hand and was delighted to learn they were as soft and fluffy as he had always imagined.

The beanstalk grew through the clouds, so Jack continued climbing. He wanted to know how high the beanstalk went. He surfaced above the clouds into what looked like another world entirely. A sea of fluffy white hills stretched into the horizon all around him.

The Land of Stories: A Treasury of Classic Fairy Tales
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titlepage.xhtml
welcome.xhtml
dedication.xhtml
introduction.xhtml
chapter001.xhtml
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