Jane and the beanstalk

Once ’pon a time
was a boy known as Jack,
who liked to climb beanstalks
and bring nice things back. 

You know about Jack
and the deeds he has done,
like pestering giants
to help out his mum.

What you don’t know, my friend,
is that Jack had a twin;
sensible and calm—
almost nothing like him.

Jane saved the day,
but she never got glory.
All that hard work
to be left out the story!

But here’s a fresh chance
to review what occurred
when a trickster caused problems
so large and absurd.

It’s time for Jane’s story.
Relax; settle in.
Are you comfy? You look it,
So I will begin.

One day, bright young Jane
woke to hear her dear mother
cursing at life
(in the form of her brother).

“I sent you for money!
You left with a cow!
Tell me, why are there beans, Jack?
Five beans! Tell me—how?”

Jane crept to the stairs
just to hear, as you do,
but as Jack told his tale,
she thought, “That can’t be true.” 

A magical wizard?
Trading beans like gold pence?
Jack was speaking so proud,
but it didn’t make sense.

“He spent all the coins.
The cow bolted. Or died.”
Jane countered Jack’s whimsy
with logic and sighed.

But Jack’s pleas to their mum
soon bred doubt in her heart.
Jack was selfish, that’s true,
but her brother was smart.

Jack would never have fallen
for gimmick or bluff.
If he traded for beans,
then five beans were enough.

The debate turned to shouts,
and Jane knew there’d be tears.
“That’s it,” she decided,
“I’ll settle Mum’s fears.”

She crept out from the stairs,
left them feuding below
and put on a coat
painted like a rainbow.

Jane slipped out the window
and gate with a clack
and set out to market
to get their cow back.

She hadn’t walked far,
just a mile or two,
when a man leapt beside her
and shouted, “Oi! You!”

Startled, Jane paused
and asked, “Yes my dear…fellow?”
She blinked at the man
dressed completely in yellow.

“Don’t you ‘dear fellow’ me.”
The man pointed at Jane.
“Your brother,” he spat,
“that young lad—whatshisname?”

“That’s Jack.” Jane’s arms folded.
“My brother. My twin.”
“That’s the one!” the man shouted.
“I traded with him!”

Jane eased back a step
and replied, “I can tell.
Shall we figure things out,
or do you need to yell?”

The fellow reared up
like a floating balloon.
He gaped at the girl
and said, “I’m a buffoon.”

He huffed and shrank back,
turning a deep red.
“Forgive my outburst.
I’m frustrated,” he said.

“The cow that Jack traded,
with bell and black spots,
she’s no milk to give,
but Jack promised me lots.”

“I’m sorry.” Jane grimaced.
“Jack can be a real pain.
I’ll have to tell mother
he’s lying again.”

With a gesture t’wards home,
Jane observed, “We’re not far.
If you bring the cow back,
then I’ll get your bean jar.”

The yellow-clad man
rubbed both hands on his face.
He let out a huff
and then started to pace

“No, no. It’s too late.
Those five beans are Jack’s now.”
“Then we’ll let the trade stand.
She’s a very nice cow.”

Jane watched, intent,
as he mumbled and dithered.
Curiosity pressed her to say,
“You’re a wizard.”

Her words stopped the grumbling
dead in its tracks.
He smiled, almost cheery,
“I’m so glad that you asked.

Yes, it’s true I’m a wizard
and one of the best.
Those five beans I gave Jack
have real magical zest.”

“Then why would you trade them?”
Jane wondered. “Just think.
Couldn’t that magic
have summoned a drink?”

“I could,” said the wizard.
“I could, if I dared,
but I think that magic
works best when it’s shared.

“That makes sense,”
Jane conceded, “though it seems a shame.”
“Not at all.” Smiled the wizard.
“Miss, what’s your name?”

“Jane,” she obliged.
“It’s a pleasure.” He bowed
“And I’ll make future trades
with good humour,” he vowed.

“A great plan,” lauded Jane,
“though I’d steer clear of Jack.
And you’re certain I can’t
give those magic beans back?”

“That’s kind of you, Jane,
but there’s no need to fret.
Truthfully? I’ve always
wanted a pet.

“I would like to make up
for yelling at you.”
Jane thought quickly and said,
“Well, what do those beans do?”

“No idea,” said the wizard,
“it’s a new recipe.
But my magical pond
can show things yet to be.”

“That’s convenient.” Jane smiled.
“and a good compromise.”
“If you say so.” Shrugged the wizard.
“I like the surprise.”

With a click of his heels
and a tap of his wand,
the wizard transported them
both to the pond.

Their landing was managed
less impressively.
Jane woke in a hedge
and the wizard? A tree.

“Darn,” said the wizard.
“I don’t usually miss.”
“It was close,” Jane consoled
as she brushed away twigs.

No bones broken, they made
their way down through the field
to look in the pond and see
all it would yield.

“How do magic ponds work?”
Curious, Jane enquired.
“Just stand by the water
and stare ‘til your tired.”

He waved to the edge of the
rippling pool.
Jane stepped forward and stared,
though she felt like a fool.

Her heart raced from the beans
and the wizard’s rough spell.
She thought about Jack
and wished all would be well.

Just like that, there was magic,
a wink and a ping.
The water turned silver
and showed everything.

Jane saw the beans grow and
Jack up to no good,
stealing gold eggs, geese, treasures
and all that he could.

Her heart sank at the sight—
she was simply disgusted.
“It seems that my brother
just cannot be trusted.”

The wizard agreed.
“My first clue was the cow.”
And the two sat and wondered
just what to do now.

“Oh, look!” Jane gasped softly,
surprised by the sight,
as deep in the pond
blazed an eerie, green light. 

On the face of the water,
a new image was shown.
A part of Jack’s story that’s
far less well-known.

They watched a great beanstalk
chopped down with an axe
and a very cross giant
come tumbling down fast.

Jane gritted her teeth when
the beast hit the ground,
and the pond water rippled
a terrible sound.

“Don’t despair,” said the wizard.
“Take a look; that’s not it.”
And the giant rose up
from the giant-shaped pit.

“I’m glad it’s not murder,
but I’m not relieved,”
Jane admitted as they
watched the story proceed.

No party for Jack
for his grand enterprise.
The giant raised fists
and screamed out to the skies,

“Fe Fi
Fo Fum,
I place a curse
on this cruel Englishman.”

The giant grabbed Jack,
there were screams and a crunch,
and Jane saw her brother
get eaten for lunch.

With a last chilling slurp,
the pond scene disappeared.
The wizard squirmed awkwardly,
tugging his beard.

“It isn’t so bad.
In fact, I have a feeling
that when you tell Jack
he won’t dream about stealing.”

But Jane fretted at this,
suddenly overcome.
“You don’t know my brother,”
she said, “or my mum.”

Jane sat in the grass
feeling totally blue.
The wizard sat with her.
“I’m going to help you.”

Hours later, Jane made
her goodbyes to the wizard
with a plan and full pockets
and promise to visit.

She walked down the path
that lead back into town
walking quickly t’wards home
with her face in a frown.

At dinner, she pushed all the food
round her plate.
Thinking of giants and
warding off Fate.

“You’re quiet,” Jack noticed.
“And what’s with the glare?”
Jane studied her brother.
“What? Nothing to share?”

Jane was tempted to tell them
about what she dread,
but she patted her pocket
in silence instead.

“Leave her be,” said their mother.
“Don’t you pick a fight.”
And nobody spoke for
the rest of the night.

The next morning Jane woke
and stared up at the ceiling.
She thought about Jack
with a sad, queasy feeling.

She dressed very slowly
and brushed every tooth.
She snuck from her room
and went straight to the roof.

There it was. In one night,
a huge beanstalk had grown
that reached up through the clouds
just like she’d been shown.

She went to Jack’s room
and immediately found
three plate-sized gold coins
in a dazzling mound.

“Oh, Jack,” Jane thought sadly,
“that happened so quick,”
and she searched for her brother,
feeling quite heartsick.

She found him at breakfast
tired and wolfing down eggs.
When she saw him, Jane opened
her mouth, but Jack said,  

“I found some gold coins
we can sell. Did you see?”
“Where’d you get them?” Jane asked,
“And please don’t lie to me.”

Jack considered his answer,
avoiding her eyes.
Jane sat down at the table
and waited for lies.

Instead, from the kitchen
their mother came wheeling,
crying fat tears of joy,
unaware he’d been stealing.

“He’s a lamb!” crooned their mother.
“My fair son, such a joy!”
She polished a coin.
“Such a wonderful boy.”

“Can’t we just be happy?”
Jack whispered, still chewing.
“You’re in danger,” Jane answered.
“I know what I’m doing.”

And so it went on,
like the pond had foretold.
Jack went up the beanstalk
each night to find gold.

For the next seven weeks,
Jane endured all the croons,
all the singing and praising—
their mother’s loud swoons.

Soon a goose joined their house,
and they sold golden shells.
They bought seven cows
with engraved copper bells.

While Jane nursed her fears,
each event came to pass,
until one summer day
came the giant at last.

Jane was mending a dress
with the goose on her lap
when she heard distant roars
like a dull thunderclap.

Angry cries filled the forests
and rang over the town,
while high on the beanstalk
a dot scrambled down.

Jane ran to the roof
and squinted both eyes.
It was Jack on the beanstalk,
clutching a new prize.

When he came close to Earth
Jane ran down to their mother.
“I think something’s wrong.
You should go look for cover.”

Her mother refused
and stood stubbornly near.
When Jack shouted, “Axe!”
she was able to hear.

Jane had hidden the axe
under her bedroom floor,
but her mother appeared
with a brand-new chainsaw.

“No, Mum!” Jane begged.
“Please, you don’t understand!”
But Jack’s feet met the grass,
a gold harp in his hand.

“Chop the beanstalk!” he shouted.
“Right now! Come on, Mum!”
And their mother told Jane,
“Move. I must help my son.”

The chainsaw sprang to life,
and Jane begged her to stop.
But their mum felled the beanstalk
in one screeching chop.

So, as seen on the face
of the pond in the wood,
the giant up high
dropped to earth with a thud.

Jane cried out at the crash
from the giant’s long fall,
moved to tears by his pain
and the shame of it all. 

“How could you?” she cried,
and Jack looked so grim.
“You can’t blame the giant.
You’re stealing from him!”

For once in their lives,
Jack faced up to the truth.
He set the harp down.
“Tell me what, what can I do?”

Jane brushed away tears,
too angry to talk.
She grabbed Jack’s free hand
and led him down the stalk.

They walked for a mile,
past the chaos and mess,
searching the beanstalk
for giants in distress.

“Are you sure we should do this?”
Jack asked. “Jane, I’m scared.”
“I know,” Jane replied. “Trust me, Jack.
I’m prepared.”

The twins marched ahead
’til they came to the pit,
and there found the wizard
stood staring at it.

“Wizard!” Jane called.
“I’m surprised that you came!”
“’Course I did,” wizard answered.
“Oh, look. Whatsisname.”

Jack stood by as they left him
and peered in the crater
“I don’t hear anything,” Jack said.
“Maybe we should check later.”

“Shh,” whispered Jane,
“We’re not leaving. Stay there.”
Then she pulled out a torch
from the twists of her hair.

They lit up the hole with
bright torch and wand-light
over grass and dirt clumps
but no giant in sight.

All at once came a hand,
and a forearm soon followed,
a ripped shirt and a shoulder,
a large mouth that bellowed,

“Fum fo
fi fee,
where’s the Englishman
that’s been stealing from me?”

As he crawled from the pit,
Jane went back to Jack’s side.
“Mr Giant, sir,
we’re so relieved you’re alive.”

Jane called out even louder,
“I know you’re in pain,
but the Englishman
swears not to do it again.”

As the giant rose up,
half emerged from the muck,
Jane urged, “Say something, Jack!”
Wizard murmured, “Good luck.”

Jack stepped forward
but couldn’t express anything.
He squeezed the harp tighter
and plucked at a string.

As the magic harp twittered
its beautiful music,
Jane put Jack behind her.
“Oh, fine, then. I’ll do it.”

She gathered her breath
and called, “We know you’re mad.
I am too, believe me,
but Jack isn’t all bad.

“He’s my brother. I love him.
So, please spare his life.
We’ll all work to repay you
for all of this strife.”

“My gold,” groaned the giant.
“My gold eggs. My goose.
You brought my harp back,
but what is the use?

“That boy chopped the beanstalk,
my only way home,
and now I’m stuck down here
with you all alone.”

“I can help you,” Jane called,
“It will just take one night.
We’ll stay with you ‘til then.
It will all be all right.”

They prepared for the worst,
but the giant sat down,
pressing the large bump
that swelled up from his crown.

He let out a long breath
like a wind of old cheese
and brushed all the dirt, leaves
and roots from his knees.

“If you get me my goose,
gold and harp that can sing,
and get me home tomorrow,
I’ll forget the whole thing.”

Relief swept through Jane,
and she reached for a tissue.
Wizard cleared his throat.
“There’s just one, tiny, issue.

“The gold’s gone,” said the wizard.
“The rest we can get.
And Jack will work gladly
to pay off his debt.”

Jack turned to the wizard,
his eyes wide with feeling.
Jane elbowed his ribs.
“That’s what you get for stealing.”

“What say you?” asked wizard.
“Is that good enough?
If we get you home safely,
with all of your stuff?”

They stared at the giant
and started to pray.
The giant stared back.
“Have you nothing to say?”

Jack flinched from the giant,
he shook and he swayed.
His mouth opened and closed
for he was afraid. 

“Say you’re sorry,” Jane coached,
but Jack couldn’t reply.
The giant was looking him
straight in the eye.

The giant was angry,
his cheeks flamed deep red
and he towered above them,
a mountain that said,

“You snuck onto my land,
and you stole from me too.
Your friends say you’re good
and I shouldn’t eat you.

“But you’ve made no excuses.
You’ve just let your friends talk.
What will happen if you
find another beanstalk?”

Jack’s head lowered
like it was just too much to bear
“This won’t happen again,
Mr Giant, I swear.

“I’ve learned my lesson.
No more stealing for me.
I’ll give it all back and
do better. You’ll see.”

“The wizard was right.
Earning trust has a cost,
will you come back and work
for the money you lost?”

Jane startled—Jack marched
to surrender his treasure.
He looked at the giant.
“It would be my pleasure.”

The harp sang with joy
from the giant’s curved hand,
and Jane said to the wizard,
“Let’s do what we planned.”

She fished in her coat
for the pouch with a seed.
Wizard offered his wand
and a trowel from his sleeve.

While Jack and the giant
made peace by harp music,
the wizard told Jane,
“Here’s my wand. You can use it.”

“That’s kind,” Jane said,
“but I don’t know what to do.”
“Just wave it around and know
I trust you.”

Trowel in her hand,
the wand tucked by her ear,
Jane looked down at the seed,
and she got into gear.

First, a hole for the seed.
Then she buried it neatly.
She took out the wand,
and she waved it discreetly.

A shiver went through her.
the wand made a sound
so pure that four droplets
rained onto the ground.

“That was perfect,” said wizard.
“Do you need a career?”
With a grin, Jane said, “Maybe.
Once we’re finished here.”

She was giddy with joy at
avoiding disaster.
Her spell made the seed work
a hundred times faster.

No sooner had Jane
used the wand like a spout
to dampen the seeds,
than they started to sprout.

Soon, a sunflower plant
had grown up to her knees
then her waist and her shoulders
and soon made her sneeze.

Within three or four hours,
a new stalk had grown,
the largest sunflower
the world’s ever known.

The giant was pleased
he could leave the same day,
and Jack fetched him the goose
so he’d go on his way.

Jane, the wizard and Jack
watched the giant retreat,
with his goose and his harp,
and they whooped with relief.

Ever since that strange evening,
the world changed just slightly.
Jack never went stealing,
and he lived more politely. 

He worked with the giant
and his giantess wife,
climbing the sunflower
every day of his life.

Wizard married their mum,
and their home filled with laughter.
He taught magic to Jane,
who lived happily ever after.