Master!” at the very top of its voice.  He had only got down about a quarter of the way when there was the most awful lurch you can think of, and Jack nearly fell off the beanstalk.  It was the ogre beginning to climb down, and his weight made the stalk sway like a tree in a storm.  Then Jack knew it was life or death, and he climbed down faster and faster, and as he climbed he shouted, “Mother!  Mother!  Bring an axe!  Bring an axe!”

Now his mother, as luck would have it, was in the backyard chopping wood, and she ran out thinking that this time the sky must have fallen.  Just at that moment Jack touched ground, and he flung down the harp—­which immediately began to sing of all sorts of beautiful things—­and he seized the axe and gave a great chop at the beanstalk, which shook and swayed and bent like barley before a breeze.

“Have a care!” shouted the ogre, clinging on as hard as he could.  But Jack did have a care, and he dealt that beanstalk such a shrewd blow that the whole of it, ogre and all, came toppling down, and, of course, the ogre broke his crown, so that he died on the spot.

[Illustration:  “Fee-fi-fo-fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman.”]

[Illustration:  Jack seized the axe and gave a great chop at the beanstalk]

After that every one was quite happy.  For they had gold and to spare, and if the bed-ridden father was dull, Jack just brought out the harp and said, “Sing!” And, lo and behold!  It sang about everything under the sun.

So Jack ceased wondering so much and became quite a useful person.

And the last bean still hasn’t grown yet.  It is still in the garden.

I wonder if it will ever grow?

And what little child will climb its beanstalk into the sky?

And what will that child find?

Goody me!

THE BLACK BULL OF NORROWAY

Long ago in Norroway there lived a lady who had three daughters.  Now they were all pretty, and one night they fell a-talking of whom they meant to marry.

And the eldest said, “I will have no one lower than an Earl.”

And the second said, “I will have none lower than a Lord.”

But the third, the prettiest and the merriest, tossed her head and said, with a twinkle in her eye, “Why so proud?  As for me I would be content with the Black Bull of Norroway.”

At that the other sisters bade her be silent and not talk lightly of such a monster.  For, see you, is it not written: 

  To wilder measures now they turn,
    The black black Bull of Norroway;
  Sudden the tapers cease to burn,
    The minstrels cease to play.

So, no doubt, the Black Bull of Norroway was held to be a horrid monster.

But the youngest daughter would have her laugh, so she said three times that she would be content with the Black Bull of Norroway.