By Mrs. Charles Fernald. Preface.

Then will it not be just as well The truth our little ones to tell, To let the darling children see Just what and where the fairies be, And where the giants really grow ? For by this time most people know That fairy-tales and"Mother Goose"Were written for a higher use Than singing restless babes to sleep, Or making timid children weep, Or turning boys, for many an hour, To lambs, just by their magic power.

And though these potent uses I

Would by no means pass lightly by,

Still it has always seemed to me

The children should be taught to see

That by the fairy, giant, sprite,

Or demon, who in sin delight,

Is meant some evil of their own,

A vice which in their hearts has grown,

Which if they cherish and caress

Will fill their souls with ugliness;

That, when a bad thought in them dies,

A good one in its place will rise ;

And nothing can good fairies be,

But truth, love, honor, industry.

Teach them their actions, words, and looks

Write every day new story-books;

That 'tis for them to say if sin,

The tallest giant, shall creep in,

Or if with fairies pure and bright

They keep their pages clean and white.

Ah! never was a book yet writ

By heart or life, without a bit

Of strife 'twixt good and evil powers

For mastery o'er us and ours.

That blessed genii only may your lives attend,

Will ever be the wish, dear children, of your friend

J. m. F.

Characters. - Jack, Mother, Butcher, Giant, Wife, Fairy Queen, and Attendants.

The words of Fairy Queen in first scene may be spoken or sung, as is most convenient. In the third scene, if it is impracticable for the real giant to fall, a dummy can easily be made to pet sonate him, to be thrown down the bean-stalk. All of the"Mother Goose"melodies introduced should be sung if possible; and any pretty chorus, like"Annie Lee"or"Beautiful Bells,"should be sung while Jack awakens from his dream.

Scene I. — Dilapidated and wretched. Enter Mother.

Mother. Ah, where is Jack, my lazy Jack? He spends the livelong day, While I am starving here at home, in idleness and play.

Tis hours since I have tasted food — even a bit of bread. O Jack, if you would only work ! I wish that I were dead!

(Enter Jack.)

Jack. Ho, mother, I'm so hungry ! Can we have our supper now

Mother. There's nothing but a little milk from good old mooly cow. O Jack ! unless you do some work, we both of us will die. You are an idle, useless boy! Oh, pray, my child, do try ! For if you don't do something, Jack, you'll come to grief and harm; And Mr. Brown will pay you well to help him on his farm. O child! if you would only look down in your heart, and see The hideous giant living there who brings this misery, The ugly monster Idleness, — yes, Jack, that is his name, — You would not dare to raise your head : you'd die for very shame.

Jack. Well, mother. But I mean to work — oh, yes, indeed! some day; But now I'm but a little chap, and little chaps should play. You can't expect a boy like me would pitch right in and work. Just wait till I grow up : you'll see there's nothing I will shirk.

Mother. You're not a little boy now, Jack : you are almost a man; And you could earn enough if you would do the best you can. But that old serpent Idleness in you has grown so strong, He makes you think you're doing right when you are doing wrong. If you don't kill him pretty soon, then, Jack, he will kill you, For we have not a bit to eat. Oh, dear / what shall we do ?

Jack. I think we'd better sell the cow, she don't do us much good; And with the money we shall get we'll buy — oh, lots of food! We'll have a jolly lay-out then, — caramels full of cream, Mince-pies and cheese, and taffy too. Golly! how good 'twill seem !

Mother. Oh, stop your foolish nonsense, Jack! I tell you, every cent That mooly brings, for bread and meat will all have to be spent. Oh, how it grieves me thus to part with our dear, good old cow! And Jack, if you would only work, we should not have to now.

Tack. There, mother, don't cry any more. I'll make a first-rate trade; And we'll have lots of money then: so don't you be afraid. We'll live like lords and ladies, yes, till both of us grow old, And every thing we use shall be of silver or of gold.

Mother. Well, then, Jack, I suppose we must; and I so will go now And take a last, long lingering look at poor old black-tailed cow.

[Exit Mother.

Jack (dances and sings). High diddle diddle, the cat and the fiddle; the cow she is going soon, etc.

(Enter Butcher, watches Jack.)

Butcher. Waal, I declar! I swaow you air the darnedst dancin' chap I ever see ; jes like a monkey kickin' in a trap. I guess you're jes a leetle cracked, an' I'll go hum again.

[Goes toward door. Jack. Here we go up, up, up, and here we go down, down, downy (spins about); Here we go backward and forward, and here we go round, round, roundy. Butcher. Waal, yes, that's jes abaout your style. You air a crazy goose, And, though you spin raound spry enough, I guess you ain't much use. I reckon 'tis my wisest course to git out of his way; My time's too val'able to look at spinnin'-Jacks all day. Jack (catches him, and makes him whirl about with him). Oh, come with me in my little canoe; I'll duck you, my love, in its waters blue. Butcher (alarmed). Great Scots! He wants to kill me naow: he says I shall be draowned. He ha'n't no more respect for me than any old caow raound. Jack (suddenly stands still, looks sharply at him). A cow, a cow! You want a cow ? Why, you're the very man. She's white as milk, all but her tail: now beat that if you can! Gives twenty quarts of milk a day, and never eats a thing (gesticulates violently). To any one who owns that cow, she will a fortune bring. Butcher (looks around). You ha'n't got nothin', though, to spare. Things looks - waal, peekish, here. I'll take the critter, though, unless she's too all-fired dear.

Jack. I'll fetch the milking-pail to hold the money: that will do. So out with the spondulics, man, and count them quick, will you ?

Butcher. Oh, I ha'n't got no chink to give for any black-tailed caow; But if yer was a mind to trade, think I mought suit yer now. Money don't fetch us every thing - no, sir, by a long chalk ! But, if yer'd like to trade a mite, we might begin ter talk.

Jack. But I must sell the cow for cash to buy us bread and meat: We've not a mouthful, not a crust, left in our house to eat.

Butcher. Well, I ha'n't no loose cash; but what I've got is worth lots more Than any di'monds blazin' raound in any juller's store. An' if yer trade with me, - now mind, I'm tellin' truth, young man, - They'll make yer fortune, if yer use them as yer ought and can. Jack. Trot out your stuff, then; let us see what all this talking means. Butcher (takes handful of beans from his pocket, and shows them). The pootiest things yer ever see! just thirty smooth white beans, All polished up, like marble is, and hard and raound and clean. If yer don't swop 'em for the caow, I'll say yer all-fired green. Jack (looks at beans, and then at Butcher in silence). Well, I don't know so very much, 'cause I wouldn't go to school: But I know what a swindler is. D'ye take me for a fool ? Get out of here, and take your trash — quick too, or you will feel What I am laying up for you not far from my boot-heel! Butcher (slowly puts beans in his pocket). The fools ain't all dead yet, I see. Now my words, young man, mind, — Some day yer'd give all your old shoes if yer hadn't been so blind: A fortune is in every bean, — yes, sir, there's millions in it: If yer don't want 'em, then I'm off in less than half a minute. Jack. Oh, if you're sure, now, very sure, they'll bring good luck to me, I'll take them and give you the cow. She's out there, don't you see ? (Takes beans.) Butcher. Thar, naow, yer growin' sensible. An' I'll jes bet yer, lad, Them little beans may keep yer back from goin' to the bad. Di'monds ain't nothin' side of them; and if yer've grit and pluck, 'Tain't long afore you'll bless them beans for bringin' yer good luck.

[Exit.

Jack (looks after Butcher, and then at beans in his hand). Better than diamonds, so he said. Well, really, I can't see

How a few common small white beans better than gold can be.

But then he said he was quite sure my fortune they would make.

Oh, dear ! I wish I'd thought to ask him just how long 'twould take. (Looks at beans.)

Now may be they are diamond-seeds, - pearl-seeds there are, I know, And, hocus-pocused underground, beans may to diamonds grow.

And mine may yield at least a peck or bushel, maybe two.

Oh, golly! I shall be (Mother enters, and watches him silently) so rich

I sha'n't know what to do ! Our house shall all be built of gold, our carriages of pearls; My clothes shall be made like a king's; I'll wear my hair (considers) - in curls; Airily) I sha'n't mix up with people here; I never shall be seen With any one but earls and dukes, and live quite near the queen. My mother, she shall be arrayed in velvet, satin, silk, And ride upon an — elephant, a Jumbo white as milk; And she shall wear upon her head all day a golden crown, And every one who sees her shall stop, and thus bow down (bows, as if to royalty). Mother (rushes wildly in). O Jack! what are you talking of ? Tell me what this all means! Jack. Why, that I've traded off the cow for - thirty little beans.

(Tableau)

Mother (weeps violently). O Jack, Jack! Such a wicked thing you cannot, Jack, have done: There's nothing now to do but die. O Jack, my son, my son! (Sinks on floor.) Jack. How could I have been such a fool to mind a word he said, And my poor mother starving there, dying for want of bread. (Looks at beans, and bites one in two) They're nothing but just beans, yes, beans. That fellow lied to me. The cow was all we had — yes, I have been a fool, I see. (Throws beans away.) Lie there and rot! But, if I live to see another day, I vow I'll spend it all in work, and not one hour in play. I've been an idle, wicked boy, an unkind, cruel son, And for my poor old mother there not one good thing I've done.

(Goes to Mother, and bends over her: she weeps and sobs) O mother, don't cry any more! and from this day you'll see How hard I'll work, and how I'll try a real good son to be. (They both sleep)

(Enter Fairy Queen and Attendants.) Attendant (sings). Fairy queen, what do we here ?

Fairy Queen (sings. Music,"Pinafore"). Good work waits for us, my dear. Do you see that boy asleep ?

Attendant. Perhaps"Boy Blue,"without his sheep. Lovely queen, is it so ?

Fairy Queen. Ah, no, no! 'Tis idle Jack, Who to work won't bend his back; Spending all the livelong day Either in mischief or in play.

Attendant. Is that so! Oh, oh, oh !

Fairy Queen. Boys and girls should never shirk Doing their own share of work. See this mother, sick and sad, Grieving o'er this idle lad.

Attendant. Yes, we know: that is so.

Mother (sings in sleep). I may labor, I may preach; But my boy I cannot teach. He would rather go and play Than listen to a word I say.

Attendant. Ah ! we know: that is so.

Fairy Queen (speaks). And before he wakes again, To save them both from future pain, I will let this young Jack see What an idle life can be. His own heart to him I'll show, And what a monster there does grow. If we can but his conscience wake, Another path the boy may take; For I'm sure this mother's lad Cannot be altogether bad. And idle Jack shall, if we can, Be made a good, industrious man.

Mother (speaks). Ah, if my poor idle Jack Would only choose another track! If these little, worthless beans, To save my boy should be the means, I'd be thankful even now That we parted with the cow. Jack, dear Jack ! I wish you would Try to be useful, Jack, and good.

For mine, your mother's sake, oh, try! Or else I must lie here - and die. (Sods.)

Attendant (softly). Do not cry. We will try, Ere too late, show him his fate.

Fairy Queen (waves wand). Now all is still without, within. Let idle Jack his dream begin.

Guard him with downy robes, lest fell night-dews arise: With charms and flowers wreath him, that sleep seal his eyes.

(Fairy Queen gives Attendants flowers. They advance to Jack ; and, while covering him with flowers, he slips off stage unseen, while facsimile Jills his place. All exit silently, dancing to soft music. Beanstalk should now appear as if shooting suddenly from the ground where beans had been thrown. Enter Jack.) Jack (yawns). Oh, dear! oh, dear! I cannot find a single thing to eat! I'd give, yes, all the world I would, for some good bread and meat; But not a penny, no, not one, have we to buy food now, Since I made such a stupid trade with our poor black-tailed cow. (Sees bean-stalk.) Why, what is that? By Jupiter, by Saturn, and by Mars, The Sun and Moon, the Milky Way, and all the inferior stars! A great green stalk (shakes it) so strong and tall! I don't see what this means. Oh, golly! By the great horn-spoon, it's sprung up from those beans!

(Looks up.) I really can't believe my eyes. In one night grown so high? Why, I can't see the top of it: it must be near the sky. I'd really like to find out where the plaguy thing does stop. What fun 'twould be to climb up there, - up to the very top! Oh, dear, me! I'd go twice as far for something good to eat: I'd give the world, if it was mine, for some cold bread and meat. I'm sure to starve if I stay here: so I may as well try To find out where this bean-stalk goes as stay down here - and die. Good-by, then, poor old mother dear (kisses her softly), and, if I don't come back, Don't grieve for such a worthless boy as your own lazy Jack. (Climbs up bean-stalk.)

(Slow curtain.)

Scene II. - Jack climbing from bean-stalk; looks about in astonishmentj sees pretty country-place; breathes hard.

Jack. By Jupiter, I'm up at last! and I don't think I'd lie If I should say that pesky stalk at least was ten miles high. I guess I sha'n't be sorry, though. This place (looks around) is awful pretty, A great deal better than (hesitates) - down there (points downward), down in that noisy city. Oh, dear! if I could only find any thing I could eat! I'll take a look around the place to see what luck I meet. Poor mother! Oh, dear, how she cried! Ah! she was hungry too.

(Wipes eyes.) She sha'n't cry any more, though, now, if I get work to do. (Enter Fairy Queen and Attendants silently).

O  Jupiter and Hail Columbia! I wonder what this means. Perhaps-this must be fairy-land, all sprung up from those beans; Or maybe - maybe I am dead, and these are little ghosts.

I'll get away, I will: I'll hide behind some of these posts.

They're not bad looking, though, for spooks j but one can never tell

What mischief they are plotting there : so 'twill be just as well. (Tries to hide.) Fairy Queen. There, Jack, you need not try to hide: 'twould be no use, you see; For anywhere in fairy-land you can't escape from me. I've watched you for a long time, Jack: I've brought you here to-night To show you what you really are, - a useless, lazy wight.

I  saw your poor old mother, Jack : I heard her moan and weep And grieve about her idle son, yes, even in her sleep.

A cruel boy you are to her, a useless, lazy lad, And going nearer every day, much nearer, to the bad. Jack (trembling). Yes, thank you, ma'am! I'm much obliged!

You're right! Oh, I mean, ma'am, I'm nothing but a lazy fraud, and that's just what I am! Fairy Queen. Don't interrupt me any more, for I mean you shall see What a vile monster"Idleness"in any heart can be. He is a giant in yours, Jack; he fills up all your life; And, if a good thought comes to you, he kills it with his knife. There is but one way left now, Jack, just one, for you to do,-To kill him : yes, indeed, you must, or else he will kill you

To-morrow it will be too late, it must be done to-night. And, though I'll help you all I can, 'tis you alone must fight.

Jack. Oh, yes, yes, ma'am, I will, I will! I'm ready now to go: Just tell me where the beggar is, only give me a show. Oh, yes! I know I'm in his power, bound down with strong chains in it No matter what I have to do, I'll do it, yes, this minute. I'll stop for nothing, - oh, no, ma'am, not even bread and meat! This villain he shall die, I say, before one bit I eat. My mother she shall cry no more; for I've made up my mind To be a good boy. Tell me, ma'am, where shall this wretch I find?

Fairy Queen. Ah, Jack! I knew you'd try to be a good, or better boy: 'Twill make your poor old mother glad; her heart will leap with joy. So now a secret I'll unfold, that no one knows but me, Which, if you but prove faithful, Jack, soon all the world may see. The giant in his stronghold hoards gems, jewels, silver, gold, Which he has stolen from you, Jack, and has no right to hold. If you are firm and brave and true, - if you will kill him, Jack,-These precious treasures, all of them, to you will soon come back. This is your last, your only chance, and this night you must choose; For, if he lives, much more than gold and jewels you will lose. Though I must vanish from your sight, I still will linger near; For none but you can fight this fight. Your enemy is here.

Jack (tries to detain her). Oh, please, ma'am! oh, I beg of you! - oh, please, don't go away! I'll kill the biggest of them, ma'am, if you will only stay, And tell me what I am to do, and whom I have to fight. They're gone, and left me all alone! I'm in a pretty plight!

(Enter Giant and Wife.)

Oh, mercy on me! Who is this ? Is this the cruel man

That I must kill? Oh, I'm afraid! I'll hide me if I can. (Hides.)

Giant (loudly). Fee, faw, fo, fum! I tell you now I know I smel. fresh meat.

Wife. And that is all you care about, - just something good to eat ?

Giant. Why, that's the best thing I can do, then I can go to sleep: I'd rather have a nice fat boy than any kind of sheep. Oh, if I only had one now, I'll bet there'd be some fun! They make, oh, such delicious pies, so tender ! - ah, num, num !

The idle boys and girls are mine, I catch them in my trap. (Sniffs about.) Fresh meat I smell: where can it be ? (Yawns.) I think I'll take a nap. (Lays head on table, and snores.)

[Exit Wife Jack (creeps out cautiously). And can it be that I am like that cruel, dreadful man ? I'll crush the monster"Idleness.-"I'll kill him - if I can. But how can I, a weak, small boy, with neither sword nor gun? He'd crush me like a little mouse, and think 'twas real good fun. I wish I had a good revolver, or a large bear-trap, -Something to whirl his ugly head off with a bang - and snap. What shall I do ? The fairy said it"must be done to-night."'Tis my own idle wickedness has brought me to this plight. Oh ! if the power to cleanse my heart is given now to me, No more forever, from this hour, a lazy Jack I'll be.

(Enter Wife.) Wife. Here, Idleness, wake up : here is your money, hen, and harp.

(Shakes him.) Giant (sniffs). I tell you, wife, I smell fresh meat. Why don't you look round sharp ? My appetite is poor to-day. If you could find a few Nice well-grown boys, to make a pie, or put into a stew, I think I might be tempted, wife, to eat them up: so come. Look round! for I can smell fresh (rises) meat, - nice, tender boys,-num, num! Wife (sees Jack). Oh, don't be foolish! Sit down now! See all your bags of money; And, while you count it, I will go and bring some bread and honey; And then your pretty hen will lay for you a golden egg. I'll find out if there's fresh meat here; but you sit still, I beg.

[Signs to Jack, and exit. Giant (sings). The king was in his counting-house, counting out his money: The queen was in the parlor, eating bread and honey. (Laughs boisterously.) That wife of mine, I say she don't give me enough to eat. I'll take a nap, and then (sniffs)- I'm sure, I know, I smell fresh meat (Sleeps.)

Jack. He cares for nothing but to eat, to sleep - lives like a pig. Oh ! have my little idle ways grown up so fierce, so big ? Now I can see how I appear in other people's eyes. O Heaven! no more let idleness in my young heart arise, But give to my hands willingness, and find them work to do, And give me strength to be a man, yes, and a good man too.

(Enter Wife cautiously!)

Wife. Are you the boy the fairy said was coming here to take Me from this cruel giant here, before he is awake ? (Jack nods.) We must be quick; for, if he wakes, he'd kill you with one blow. And you must take his precious treasures all with you, you know. You take the bags, the money. Throw them down the great bean-stalk; Then come and help me with the rest. Be quick! Don't stop to talk !

(Jack takes money-bags, and throws quickly down bean-stalk; hurries back, and is about to take harp.)

Giant (moves restlessly). Fee, faw, fo, fum! Wife, wife, I know I smell a tender boy. Ah ! if I just could catch one now, I'd dance, yes, dance for joy.

Wife. You'd better not wake up just yet. I'm fixing up a stew And a nice broil, - the very best I ever cooked for you. 'Tis nearly ready. - Jack, be quick ! He'll waken soon, I know. He can't sleep well when boys are here : he smells fresh meat. Now go And slip that box away from him, - the one beneath his head; But, oh, don't let him catch you, Jack ! for, if he does, you're dead. 'Tis filled with things he stole from you; oh, priceless treasures, Jack! Uprightness, honor, industry. Do try to get them back; For all the money, without these, will do you, Jack, no good: No wealth can ever make of you what these bright jewels should. You, you alone, gave him the power to keep your treasures bright: If you would have them back again,you must get (points to Giant) them to-night.

(Jack goes cautiously to table, slowly slips box out from under Giant's head, which bumps on table. Jack hides behind table. Wife watches eagerly!)

Giant (wakes.) I tell you, wife, I smell fresh meat. Oh, I could eat twelve boys! While I was snoring, didn't you hear a very curious noise ? (Looks about, Perceives Jack, who moves round nimbly. Giant sits still.)

Hullo, hullo! Fresh meat, fresh meat! I told you. so, didn't I ?

Here, little boy, come let me feel if you'll do for a pie.

If I can crack your bones between my finger and my thumb,

You'll make a tender, juicy pie. D'ye hear? Why don't you come?

What are you doing with my things ? Where's my box gone, I say ?

You little villain ! I'll soon stop your very pretty play. (Gets up slowly)

Wife, wife ! where are you? Wife, I say! I've caught some nice fresh meat. You hurry up, and make the pie. Oh, won't I have a treat! (Chases

Jack, who dodges and eludes him till he becomes furious.) Jack. Say! don't you think, old kidnapper, it would be rather wise To catch your nice fresh meat before you make it into pies ? We've taken all your money-bags, your jewels, silver, gold: Your wife and I we're going to leave you out quite in the cold.

(Giant still pursues)

Don't break its little heart, now don't. Ta-ta, my love, by by ! Remember me at dinner-time. I'm too fresh for a - pie.

(They chase, dodge, and elude each other for some time; then Wife takes harp, and Jack the box, and escape to the bean-stalk. Giant follows clumsily. This action should be brisk and exciting)

(Curtain)

Scene III. - Same as first. Wife, at foot of bean-stalk, holds harp, etc. Jack climbs down, with strong box clasped closely to him.

Jack (hands box to Wife). Please take the box, and hold it fast, while I run double-quick To get my axe. Then, just the moment beautiful old Nick Puts his small feet upon the stalk, well, on the upper round, I'll chop it here ; and then I think perhaps he'll tumble down. Oh, dear, when he ran after us, how fast my heart did beat! He roaring all the time to me,"Stop, stop, you young fresh meat!"

(Fetches axe) Wife (trembles and weeps). O"Jack / But, if he catches us, I know what he will do; He'll make me - oh ! I'm sure he will - into a nice lamb stew. It was too bad for one so beautiful and delicate as I To such a great, vile monstrous wretch my little self to tie.

I loved him once, yes, long ago, before he grew so tall; But, now I know how bad he is, I don't love him at all. O Jack! I know he's coming. (Looks up.) Yes, I see both of his feet.

Giant. Ha, ha! you can't run from me now: I'll catch you yet, fresh meat.

Jack. Come! come along, old Idleness, you miserable old sinner. I'll do my level best to spoil your appetite for dinner.

(Chops stalk down. Giant falls, shakes fist at Jack, and dies. They look at him silently?)

How could he. thus have grown within my heart, and I not know it? Wife. Because"none see themselves as others do,"thus says the poet. Jack (solemnly). To idleness from this day I will yield, no, never, never! Wife. No more will I, I'm very sure; no, no! well, hardly ever. Jack. But I'm in solemn earnest. Now say, shall we not both try To make up for the precious time we've lost, - both you and I ? Wife. Yes, yes, dear Jack! with all my heart; yes, and with both my hands. (They join hands.) Both. We'll join the ranks of industry, and fulfil its demands. Jack. I feel so happy! I must run and find my dear old mother. Wife. Oh! take me to your home, dear Jack: indeed I have no other. Jack. You never more shall want a home. Through you I've gained this fight: For mother and for you my hands shall toil from morn till night.

[Exit.

(Fairy Queen and Attendants enter?)

Fairy Queen (sings).

Happily breaketh the golden light

Of balmy, rosy morning, When through the long, dark hours of night,

Is heeded a timely warning; When in our dreams too well we see

What loves our hearts are holding, What thoughts unholy there can be,

Our very lives infolding.

Mother (sings sadly).

Wearily breaketh the golden light

Of balmy, rosy morning, When the heart dreads, through cold, sad night,

To see the new day dawning; When in our dreams too well we feel

Our hearts within us breaking; When the night brings no love to heal, Nought but a bitter waking.

(Repeat as duet, each singing her own verse,"Merrily,""Wearily,"etc.)

Fairy Queen. Soft, soft, to young Jack's side now nimbly steal, And from his warning dream his eyes unseal.

(Attendants all dance over to where Jack is supposed to be asleep; and, while they uncover him, facsimile and Jack exchange places as before. Jack wakens slowly. All on stage sing some lively song in chorus. Jack appears bewildered!)

Jack. The fairies here ! Why, where am I ? What! can this be a dream ? Is my name Jack? or - Who am I ? How funny things do seem! There's just one thing that I do know, and that is, I have been A good-for-nothing vagabond -Fairy Queen. Jack, is that what you've seen ? Jack (trembles). Good-morning, ma'am! Hope you are well. I'm glad you've come again. I did my level best to kill that beggar in his den. Fairy Queen. You know me, then? Jack. Should think I did! Yes, ma'am, we met last night: You said that what was in my heart must die before daylight. We did it, ma'am, - his wife and I. Yes, ma'am, he's very dead. He tumbled down the bean-stalk, ma'am, and landed on his head. O ma'am (kneels to Fairy Queen), I'm much obliged to you; and you shall never rue it, For telling me what I must do, and helping me to do it. Fairy Queen. Rise, Jack. I knew you'd faithful prove, if you could only see How great a tyrant sin becomes when it gains mastery. 'Tis better far to crush it out while it is weak and small, But better, Jack, as you have done, than never done at all.

Mother (awakes). O Jack, my idle, foolish boy, we've not a bit to eat ! Your poor old mother now must starve, or beg out in the street. Jack (embraces her). No, never, mother, - oh, no, no ! I've seen my wicked ways. I'll work and comfort you, my mother, yes, yes, all your days. See these kind fairies - (Points to fairies.) Fairy Queen. Friends, dear Jack. Jack. They showed me, mother dear, Just what I was, and helped me fight my pathway free and clear.

(Enter Wife.) And here is one whose courage filled with good thoughts my bad heart. (Takes her hand.)

(Enter Butcher.)

Fairy Queen. And here, too, is another, Jack. As friend he played a part: I sent him in disguise to you, that he might be the means Of opening your blind, selfish eyes by trading with his beans. Butcher. That's jes so, stranger. Where abaout do yer think yer'd be naow, If yer hadn't swopped my precious beans for that ere darned old caow ? I knowed jes what a fool you was. You thought I lied to you. 'Twan't no use wastin' gold, you see, when them 'ere beans would do. But truth I told yer, Jack, my boy: not all of Injy's mines Could fetch yer half the precious wealth that in yer heart now shines.

Mother. If Idleness indeed is dead, fair Industry will come, And make our wretched hovel there a peaceful, happy home.

Jack. Yes, mother, faithfully I'll work to make up - oh, lost time ! But do you think those little ones (points to audience) like"Jack's Bean stalk in Rhyme?"I wish I dared say just one word to every little child. Shall I ? (To audience) May I ? I think I will (nods inquiringly). Yes, that chap (points to some one in audience) winked at me, and smiled. You grown-up folks there must not hear, - of course not, you don't need it: 'Tis only for the little ones, and they, I know, will heed it. If any of you children here have just one idle way That you encourage in your heart, a little more each day, Don't wait till it becomes a giant, like poor, lazy Jack, But go to work this very day, - yes, now, - and break its back.

There's work for every little hand, for every little heart; And every little child that's here must do its little part. It may be difficult at first; but this, like every other Hard task, will bring you blessings, if you really love your - mother. And should old Idleness e'er come to you, don't let him talk, But send for these (points to all on stage), who helped poor Jack, -All. And don't forget the stalk. (All dance and sing.)

(Slow curtain.)