Jack

Jack was taller than his mother before his seventh birthday. Ten years later he stood at twenty feet, with tree-trunks for legs and a three-barrel chest. His mother was poor, and Jack had little more than his size.

When he found the beanstalk, he knew he would climb it.

Up in the clouds, there was a small house filled with bags of gold. He heard a squeak below him and saw a tiny man yelling in a high-pitched voice: “Fe, fi, fo–” Jack brushed him aside, grabbed a bag, and left.

He and his mother lived happily ever after. 

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