Today is part one of two where we are talking to Pamela Topjian about her memoir I Didn't Come This Far, to Only Come THIS Far. Over the next 2 weeks you will hear about her incredible journey of overcoming neglect, abuse, and trauma, how therapy helped her through all of these things so she could build the life she really wanted.

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I’m a survivor of childhood trauma, which continued to adulthood, had a total breakdown in life which was a catalyst to living a life I never would have thought possible & I wrote my memoir to inspire others.

I’m a former licensed nurse that changed careers to certified hypnotherapist. I’m starting a course for integrative Healing arts practitioner mid April. I paint, I love to hike and am happily married and mother of two adult children.

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Welcome to Freya's Fairy Tales, where we believe fairy tales are both stories we enjoy as children and something that we can achieve ourselves.

Each week we will talk to authors about their favorite fairy tales when they were kids and their adventure to holding their very own fairytale in their hands.

At the end of each episode, we will finish off with the fairy tale or short story read as close to the original author's version as possible.

I am your host, Freya Victoria.

I'm an audiobook narrator that loves reading fairy tales, novels and bringing stories to life through narration.

I'm also fascinated by talking to authors and learning about their why and how for creating their stories.

We have included all of the links for today's author and our show in the show Notes.

Today is part one of two when we're talking to Pamela Topgian about her memoir.

I Didn't Come This Far to Only Come This Far.

Over the next two weeks, you will hear about her incredible journey of overcoming neglect, abuse and trauma, how therapy helped her through all of these things so she could build the life she really wanted.

I Didn't Come this far, to Only Come this Far a true story of my own journey through a life of betrayal, abuse and neglect to one of peace, love and freedom.

A true story in her own words.

Five years in the making, Pamela Walks Down Memory Lane, an account of her life as a woman born in America in the 60s.

Pamela talks openly and candidly about a life full of neglect, betrayal, abuse, grief and loss.

One traumatic event after another until a total breakdown after being left unconscious on the floor after an attack by her addict husband is a catalyst to an awakening.

And finally realizing true love, peace and freedom in her 50s triggers poverty, neglect, rape, sexual assault and physical abuse.

A note from the Author I was going to stop writing when my life settled down, but it's clear that isn't happening any time soon.

I didn't come this far, to only come this far.

I keep going, keep reaching my goals and dreams.

My hope is to show you that no matter what you go through, that you can do more than survive and just exist.

There's nothing special or different about me.

Much of what I went through is all too common.

I wrote this for my own therapy, to not have gone to the grave without telling my story, to bring hope and inspiration to others.

Thank you, dear reader, for your interest and support.

Pamela Topgian okay, so the podcast is Freya's Fairy Tales and the Fairy Tales are twofold.

So there's things that we enjoyed as kids either reading or our parents reading to us or movies that we watched or just some kind of it doesn't have to be a fairy tale.

It could be another short story, but then it's also something that once you've put in all the time and the effort and time, hours, weeks, months, years, whatever of writing your own book.

That's also a fairy tale for you to hold that physical copy in your hand once you get it.

So I like to start at the beginning.

So when you were a kid, what was your favorite fairy tale when you were a kid?

And did that change as you got older?

Yeah.

So when you first had asked me that before, because I don't really have one that I would think, oh, that was my favorite nothing that I thought of.

But as soon as you said that, I thought of like, Jack and the Beanstalk, which is kind of funny because I wouldn't have thought that before, but part of my book is a memoir.

So we grew up in poverty in that.

And I think that might be Jack and the Beanstalk always kind of struck me because it was a poor family and they just took these beans and just like the magic of anything could happen, anything possible.

And that just because he was in this poor situation with his family, there was still hope or there was still magic in the world ahead of him.

So that kind of intrigues me.

Also, I think a lot of women their favorite sort of I don't know if it's considered a fairytale, but The Secret Garden just love that.

And I think too, that's part of the whole idea of magic.

And these kids have their own little space of magic where things grow and there's hope and dreams come true.

So even saying that again, too.

So wizard of Oz is another one.

So I don't know if those are considered like fairy tales, but just love those and always have.

Yeah.

I did look at the definition of fairytale for the podcast, but I don't know if there's some like, oh, it has to be like a short story for it to count as a fairy tale because one of the other authors had said Beauty and the Beast.

Well, the original Beauty and the Beast was 200 pages long, so I wouldn't consider that a short story.

No.

But then as they rewrote it and modified it for it to be more kid friendly, it got to where it's a much shorter story, right?

Yeah.

Jack and the Beanstalk is definitely probably resonated a little bit with you with that background.

Yeah.

And it's funny because I wouldn't have thought of that, like if I was to put a lot of thought into, but that's like the first thing that came to mind.

And so I thought, you know, I better just go with that because the first thing that came to mind and it does make sense.

So then growing up, at what age did you think, I want to write a book or did you write a lot in school or was it kind of after school that started?

You know, my parents both read a lot.

So I was lucky with that.

I wrote little books like, I would have four pieces of paper and I would fold them, and I would just write stupid little books just like the kids on the block and my friends or my sisters would be in the little stories about one.

I had my sister's favorite animal was an elephant.

And so I had one where she had an elephant and we wouldn't let her keep it just, you know.

And that was like probably seven or eight years old when they wrote that.

So I did always kind of, like, liked the idea of writing a book, but it wasn't really a goal of mine.

It wasn't something I thought of.

I did do it, but it wasn't something I thought of.

I only wrote my book because at first I didn't know if I was going to publish or not.

It was really as kind of a therapy to get my story out of me, to get it down and out of me down like on paper and out of me because there's so much trauma and tragedy in my story as I was in therapy.

That was also part of my therapy.

It wasn't suggested by the therapist, but I felt like that would be helpful.

And it helped me to remember things that kind of were lost just by writing it all out, going in the timeline of my life.

And it took five years to write.

And it wasn't until near the end that I started reading other autobiographies and memoirs and that and thinking and how inspired I was by there.

And I thought, I have a real story here and nothing that is very extreme on either end.

Like, it's not like a total rags to riches story.

A lot of things that a lot of people go through and have been through, but a lot of people get stuck in those areas and they never really make it out right.

And so I felt like my story was something that people could relate to and be inspired by, rather than somebody that's gone off to do amazingly wonderful things from really horrific things.

Mine is somewhere in between there.

It's more relatable.

So that's when I kind of thought I have a story here, too that might inspire others from ones that I was reading as well.

Now I will tell you on the narration side, those are the only contracts I've had cancel on me so far is one that it was autobiographies and the way that you do it.

So the way that narration works, you audition for it, which is typically like two to five minutes of the book.

And then once you've done that, if they pick you, then you get a contract and then you have to send like a 15 minutes sample of more of the book.

Right.

And so, like, they would approve all of those.

But then, like, once they heard, well, one of them didn't approve the first 15.

She was a little I wouldn't say nitpicky is not the right word.

She's just very, very it was her story.

And she wanted to hold a certain way, which you're not going to find another person able to tell your story.

Like, you will be able to tell your story.

Yeah.

And that's the thing.

I would love to do my own first.

Right at the end of that.

It's one of those, like, technically we're not allowed to cancel kind of things.

But I was like, listen, if the author wants to find someone else, I'm totally okay with that.

She has a very beautiful story, and I want her to be happy with the end product.

I had two that it was the same exact kind of situation where it was like, clearly I just wasn't you.

Yeah, I can't imagine that must be hard.

And I've thought about that, too, because like I said, I would like my book on audio, but I thought doing it myself because I can't imagine hearing somebody else reading my book.

Yeah.

I imagine it would be weird.

Yeah.

I can't imagine that.

That's understandable.

It's a little bit different to being an autobiography versus most of what I do is fiction at this point in time.

And so fiction authors are totally different because they're like, I don't know how to make all the voices for all the characters.

And they probably love hearing the story come to life.

I can just imagine because you have a great voice for that.

And I've listened to some of yours, and that's awesome.

And I'm sure that they just love it.

But, yeah, it's a totally different thing with an autobiography or a memoir.

Totally.

So why don't you you're my first nonfiction to interview.

Why don't you tell us a little bit about, I guess, your story and then you go into I know you said you used writing the book as therapy, but why you ultimately decided to do that leading into well, you kind of already covered why you decided to publish it, but kind of what your I guess, back story a little bit into eventually writing this book.

Yeah.

Well, I don't want to get too graphic because this isn't that kind of podcast.

I mean, I have an explicit warning on it, but that only covers so much.

Yeah.

But it's just really a story of my journey through a life of betrayal and abuse and neglect.

And then where I've come through, I had a complete breakdown after an abusive marriage.

And I was like down to the count really, you know, for a good year, maybe two years where I was getting therapy, I could barely take care of myself.

And that was my late 40s, early fifty s.

And I know a lot of people, especially once you're middle aged or a little bit older, if you've just been so dragged down by your life and a lot of people just stay there.

They just stay there and they're hopeless.

And whether they seek therapy or not, they've sort of given up and just kind of waiting.

And so for some amazing to me, it's still amazing that I was able to come out of that to now.

Everything that I do, I love, there's nothing that I do in my life that isn't something I've chosen that just feeds my soul.

So I've come out of that but live a dream life, my personal dream life.

And I just want others to know that they can do that no matter what they've been through.

Because this goes back from like nine years old.

I've had things happen where we moved a lot because of my father not being in my life.

And after they divorced, we were in poor neighborhoods to where there were stabbings in the hallway and blood left in the hallway drying for months.

And my sister was killed in a car accident.

I had sexual assaults as a teen and I became a teen mother.

And like I said, abusive marriage and just one thing after the other.

And the thing with my book is like, I tell people even in the beginning and I know a lot of people don't read like the forward in the introduction, but I tell people it is sad.

It's like, oh, this happened and this happened and this happened, but it does get better.

Stick it out.

It gets better.

You'll be cheering me on near the end.

But the first half at least is kind of sad.

But it's showing you all the stuff that you go through that I had went through and then a total breakdown and then making it back to where, like I love my life now and I'm in my mid 50s.

What was the question taking me through the book?

I mean, you keep saying total breakdown.

So I'm guessing you don't want to go touch on what exactly that is.

But after that, I mean, and if you want to talk about that, that's fine.

But after that, what was the first big decision that you made that was something that you chose for you?

Yeah.

Well, the total breakdown is really my first marriage was emotionally and verbally abusive.

The second marriage was physically abusive as well.

And he was drug addict, alcoholic.

And the last thing he had, one of the things that made me walk out was I was beat up and left in the closet unconscious.

And I needed the police to get me out safely.

And it was after that, then when I got my own place, I thought, yeah, I'm free.

Everything's going to be great here.

I am on my own now.

Yeah, finally.

But PTSD just set in.

It wasn't quite like those magic beans, right?

So I really got to a place of total depression, suicidal, highly anxious, very fearful night terror.

When I say total breakdown, that's what that is.

And it wasn't until therapy that I realized it was PTSD and not just from that incident in the closet, but it was from my whole childhood leading up to that thing.

I just hadn't been dealt with.

Right.

And it was in therapy that I realized there was a moment when I was in therapy that I thought, oh, my gosh, I'm going to be okay because I was taking jobs that was taking care of house sitting, pet sitting kinds of things like that that I didn't have to pay rent or go to work or deal with people really, like on the public or anything.

So then I was going to therapy while I was doing that, and I didn't know if I would ever be a fully functional adult again.

I felt really scared that I wouldn't be able to live just a normal life, just even survive, let alone thrive in love with my life.

But there was a moment in therapy that I was like, I'm going to be okay.

I can see a light at the end of the tunnel.

I could finally see it.

And I learned in therapy about all the things in my childhood that led up to where I was at this point or at that point.

And being able to connect those dots and being able to really see the whole thing for what it was was really enlightening.

And that helped me feel like I had control rather than all this stuff happening to me.

But I feel like now I understand where it came from.

And now let's work through some of those things.

It took another year.

How long into therapy did you see the light at the end of the tunnel?

Yeah, that was probably, I'm going to say just three or four sessions in okay.

And I was going twice a week at first.

So like two weeks in.

Yeah, that's good that it was that quick that you kind of were able to see.

I can get better.

So at what point did you decide to go into therapy?

Well, it was really like I said, I was suicidal.

I had lost a sister when I was a teen, and I didn't want to do that to my mother.

Most people think of their children when they are suicidal.

They think, I can't do this to my children.

Right.

But my kids were already adults, and I really felt like I was a burden to them anyway, that their mom was crazy and not able to take care of herself and whatever else.

So I didn't worry about my kids.

I thought they'd be better off without me.

And like I said, they were already adults living on their own anyway.

Right.

But I was worried about my mother, and I didn't want to do that to her.

She had already lost one child, so it was kind of a point of I can't stand this life like this just not doing anything, just being in this dark space in my head and being depressed.

And the nightmares were still coming and just barely living.

And so I had to make some sort of change.

And I actually went to the doctor before I even thought of therapy.

And the doctor is the one who set up therapy.

I was a nurse for 14 years, and I recently switched careers.

But at that time, I wasn't working as a nurse, obviously.

But when I went to the doctor, I was thinking meds.

I was thinking I need depression medication or anxiety medication.

That's what I was thinking.

And I did have some for a little while, but they also put me in therapy.

And I didn't even think of therapy because I thought, what am I going to go to therapy for, right?

Which is crazy.

I'm doing okay.

I'm out of the house.

Well, what I really thought was, what am I going to tell them, right?

What is my purpose?

Why am I here?

I don't know.

I was beat up a year ago, and now I can't handle it because that's what I thought at the time.

I thought, how did this one thing happen?

And now I just can't do anything.

At that time, I didn't realize it was the whole life leading up to that.

How did you go from being in therapy to now doing the therapy?

Yeah.

Oh, my gosh.

So like I said, I had been a licensed nurse.

And so I eventually, after a year of therapy, I went back to nursing just so I can sort of be more on my own, make my own money, be more independent.

I was feeling much better mentally and everything.

And even before all of that happened, I was more interested in more holistic.

Therapies the nursing field wasn't what it was really cracked up to be for me.

It didn't feel like we were really helping our patients.

We didn't have the resources we needed in so many ways.

And you always left feeling like you could have or you should have been able to do better for your patience or that's how I felt anyway, and that you were just had your hands tied in so many ways.

Right.

And so I had looked into a healing arts school and got a little bit of an intro and a lot of different holistic modalities.

And then there was hypnotherapy I was introduced to.

And so I went down that road, and I took the level one and level two.

But because of the husband that I had at the time, I had to continue nursing because I had to take care of the bills and everything, I wasn't able to make that switch over.

So I was already had this in my mind, in the back of my head that I loved hypnotherapy, that it was just a dream of mine.

I thought I had lost it.

I thought it was gone, and I was getting really fed up with nursing.

I was doing this again.

I was finding myself feeling the same way.

And then I saw like on Facebook, like Sacramento Hypnotherapy, because I had moved from the Midwest to California.

Okay.

During that time that I was down and it was like a last ditch effort.

I'm going to move far away and everything would be great because I kind of thought my fear was of the ex husband finding me or something, you know.

So I moved across the country.

I feel like that's probably pretty popular issue for people, though, is thinking that, yeah.

So you move across the country.

And I'm fed up with nursing again or still, but I'm doing well independent, taking care of myself.

And so then I see just on Facebook a year ago, those memories come up that I saw Sacramento Hypnotherapy and I said, I wish, I wish, I wish.

And I posted their page.

And then that came up in my memories.

And I was like, maybe that's what I should do.

Maybe that's what I should go back to.

And it just was a whirlwind from there.

So then I went back for classes.

I got certified, and it just took off.

And then the pandemic happened.

So I was able to do everything by Zoom.

Yeah.

It was a good thing, though.

It was a good thing because now I have clients all over the place.

I always have to ask, like we discussed, I always have to ask, what time zone are you in if they don't tell me in the initial contact.

So now I have clients anywhere and everywhere because of the pandemic, I didn't have to worry about just sticking to this one little area.

And I love it.

So now you get to work from home.

Yeah.

I know.

We've gotten away from your book.

Well, my wife is my book.

Yeah.

So I assume.

Have you helped anyone through the same kind of situation that you had been through?

Yeah, those are my people.

Those are my clients.

Those are the ones that I reach out to people that are kind of middle aged and older.

They feel stuck in life that they don't know.

Either they've been through a lot of therapy and just don't find it helping them, or they've just sort of given up.

And they're in this stuck space of either feeling that they're in a rut feeling that they're on the verge of a breakdown.

So these are the people that I help mostly.

Yeah.

So when I have somebody come to me for something else, it's kind of like I kind of give a second thought to should I refer them out?

Because of course I know other ones.

Yeah.

But I'll try to do what I can with them, but that's my main focus.

People that are feeling the way I did and I feel like they know that I've been through it because a lot of my marketing is things that I've been through this and just sharing my story out there.

And look, it's possible you can make it out.

So have you had someone find come to you as a patient because they found your book?

I have not, no, but I just published it in January.

Okay.

Time will tell.

Yeah, time will tell.

I've had people that are not on social media, and that's pretty much where I mean, I have a website, but because of the pandemic, too, I think it is that I really only advertise on social media for my business.

But it will be interesting to see when somebody comes to me that's not from social media.

Where did you find me?

I saw your book because, of course, I have the information at the end of it.

Right.

In fact, I've narrated a couple of books that at the end they wanted me to read the here's how to get in contact with us kind of thing.

When I'm narrating a book, I'll do whatever they want me to do.

But I did a horse book and she wanted me to read actually.

She kept telling me, you can leave all the links at the end of.

But I'm like, you gave all this great information and the links are more great information.

Why would I leave all that off?

Yeah, I wouldn't know about that.

It would seem like it's just sort of advertising.

It's like, do you put the ad in your narration?

But if it's part of the person, what the story is about, I guess, right.

There's a wide range of things that people ask you to put.

Pamela's favorite fairy tales are ones that include triumph over difficult situations.

Jack and the Beanstalk is an English fairy tale.

It appeared as the story of Jack Spriggans and the Enchanted Bean in 1734 and as Benjamin Taberts Moralized The History of Jack and the Beanstalk in 18 seven.

Henry Cole Publishing under the pen name Felix Summerlee, popularized the tale in the Home Treasury 1845, and Joseph Jacobs rewrote it in English Fairy Tales 1890.

Jacobs version is most commonly reprinted today and is believed to be closer to the oral versions than Tabort's because it lacks the moralizing.

Jack and the Beanstalk is the best known of the Jack's Tales, a series of stories featuring the archetypal Cornish and English hero and stock character Jack.

According to researchers at Durham University and Universidad Nova de Lisboa, the story originated more than five millennia ago, based on a widespread archaic story form, which is now classified by folklorists as Atu 328, The Boy Who Stole Ogre's Treasurer.

Today we'll be reading Jack and the Beanstalk by Joseph Jacobs.

Don't forget, we are also continuing the original story of Beauty and the Beast on our Patreon.

Jack and the Beanstalk, an old English fairy tale a long, long time ago when most of the world was young and folk did what they liked because all things were good.

There lived a boy called Jack.

His father was bedridden, and his mother, a good soul, was busy early morns and late Eves, planning in placing how to support her sick husband and her young son by selling the milk and butter which Milky White, the beautiful cow gave them without stint, for it was summertime, but winter came on.

The herbs of the fields took refuge from the frosts in the warm Earth, and though his mother sent Jack to gather what fodder he could get in the hedgerows, he came back as often as not with a very empty sack, for Jack's eyes were so often full of wonder at all the things he saw that sometimes he forgot to work.

So it came to pass that one morning MILKWHITE gave no milk at all, not one drain.

Then the good, hardworking mother threw her apron over her head and sobbed, what shall we do?

What shall we do now?

Jack loved his mother.

Besides, he felt just a bit sneaky at being such a big boy and doing so little to help.

So he said, Cheer up, cheer up.

I'll go and get work somewhere.

And he fell as he spoke, as if he would work his fingers to the bone.

But the good woman shook her head mournfully.

You've tried that before, Jack, she said, and nobody would keep you.

You are quite a good lad, but your Wits go a wool gathering.

No, we must sell Milky White and live on the money.

It is no use crying over milk that is not here to spill, you see.

She was a wise as well as a hardworking woman, and Jack's spirits rose just so.

He cried, we will sell Milky White and be richer than ever.

It's an ill wind that blows no one good.

So as it is market day.

I'll just take her there and we shall see what we shall see.

But, began his mother.

But doesn't butter parsnips, laughed Jack.

Trust me to make a good bargain.

So as it was washing day, and her sick husband was more ailing than usual, his mother let Jack set off to sell the cow.

Not less than £10.

She bawled after him as he turned the corner.

£10 indeed.

Jack had made up his mind to 2020 solid golden sovereigns.

He was just settling what he should buy his mother as a fairing out of the money when he saw a queer little old man on the road who called out, Good morning, Jack.

Good morning, replied Jack with a polite bow, wondering how the queer little old man happened to know his name.

Though to be sure, Jacks were as plentiful as blackberries.

And where may you be going?

Asked the queer little old man.

Jack wondered again.

He was always wondering, you know what the queer little old man had to do with it.

But being always polite, he replied, I am going to market to sell Milky White.

And I mean to make a good bargain.

So you will, so you will.

Chuckled the queer little old man.

You look the sort of chap for it.

I bet you know how many beans make?

Five.

Two in each hand and one in my mouth, answered Jack readily.

He really was as sharp as a needle.

Just so, just so.

Chuckled the queer little old man, and as he spoke he drew out of his pocket five beans.

Well, here they are.

So give us Milky White.

Jack was so flabbergasted that he stood with his mouth open as if he expected the fifth bean to fly into it.

What?

He said at last.

My Milky White for five common beans.

Not if I know it, but they aren't common beans.

Put in the queer little old man, and there was a queer little smile on his queer little face.

If you plant these beans overnight, by morning they will have grown up right into the very sky.

Jack was too flabbergasted this time even to open his mouth.

His eyes opened instead.

Did you stay right into the very sky?

He asked at last.

For see you.

Jack had wondered more about the sky than about anything else.

Right up into the very sky.

Repeated the queer old man with a nod between each word.

It's a good bargain, Jack, and as Fare plays a jewel, if they don't, why meet me here tomorrow morning, and you shall have Milky Wide back again.

Will that please you?

Right as a trivet.

Cried Jack without stopping to think.

And the next moment he found himself standing on an empty road, two in each hand and one in my mouth, repeated Jack.

That is what I said and what I'll do.

Everything in order.

And if what the queer little old man said isn't true, I shall get Milky White back tomorrow morning.

So whistling and munching the bean, he trudged home cheerfully, wondering what the sky would be like if he ever got there.

What a long time you've been, exclaimed his mother, who was watching anxiously for him at the gate.

It is past sunsetting, but I see you have sold Milky White.

Tell me quick how much you got for her.

You'll never guess, began Jack.

Laws of mercy.

You don't say so, interrupted the good woman, and I worrying all day lest they should take you in.

What was it?

£10.15?

Sure it can't be 20.

Jack held out the beans triumphantly.

There, he said.

That's what I got for her.

And a Jolly good bargain, too.

It was his mother's turn to be flabbergasted, but all she said was, what then?

Beans?

Yes, replied Jack, beginning to doubt his own wisdom.

But they're magic beans.

If you plant them overnight, by morning they grow right up into the sky.

Oh, please don't hit so hard, for Jack's mother, for once had lost her temper and was belaboring the boy for all she was worth, and when she had finished scolding and beating, she flung the miserable beans out of the window and sent him supperless to bed.

If this was the magical effect of the beans, thought Jack ruefully, he didn't want any more magic, if you please, however, being healthy and as a rule happy, he soon fell asleep and slept like a top.

When he woke, he thought at first it was moonlight, for everything in the room showed greenish.

Then he stared at the little window.

It was covered as if with a curtain by leaves.

He was out of bed in a Trice, and the next moment, without waiting to dress, was climbing up the biggest Beanstalk you ever saw, for what the queer little old man had said was true.

One of the beans which his mother had chucked into the garden had found soil, taken root, and grown into the night, where up to the very Sky Jack meant to see, at any rate.

So he climbed and he climbed and he climbed.

It was easy work for the big Beanstalk, with the leaves growing out of each side was like a ladder.

For all that he was soon out of breath.

Then he got his second wind and was just beginning to wonder if he had a third when he saw in front of him a wide, shining white road stretching away and away and away.

So he took to walking, and he walked and walked and walked till he came to a tall, shining white house with a wide white doorstep.

And on the doorstep stood a great big woman with a black porridge pot in her hand.

Now Jack, having had no supper, was hungry as a Hunter, and when he saw the porridge pot he said quite politely.

Good morning, I wonder if you could give me some breakfast.

Breakfast?

Echoed the woman, who in truth was an ogre's wife.

If it is breakfast you're wanting, it's breakfast you'll likely be, for I expect my man home every instant, and there is nothing he likes better for breakfast than a boy, a fat boy grilled on toast.

Now Jack was not a bit of a coward, and when he wanted a thing he generally got it.

So he said cheerful.

Like I'd be sadder if I had my breakfast.

Where the ogre's wife laughed and bade Jack come in, for she was not really half as bad as she looked.

But he had hardly finished the great bowl of porridge and milk she gave him when the whole house began to tremble and quake.

It was the ogre coming home.

I smell the blood of an English man thump thump thump into the oven with you.

Sharp, cried the ogre's wife, and the iron oven door was just closed when the ogre strode in.

Jack could see him through the little peephole slide at the top where the steam came out.

He was a big one, for sure.

He had three sheep strung to his belt.

And these he threw down on the table.

Dear wife, he cried, roast me these snippets for breakfast.

They're all I've been able to get this morning.

Worse luck, I hope.

The oven's hot.

And he went to touch the handle while Jack burst out all of a sweat, wondering what would happen next.

Roast, echoed the ogre's wife, poo.

The little things would dry to cinders.

Better boil them, so she set to work to boil them.

But the ogre began sniffing about the room.

They don't smell mutton meat, he growled.

Then he frowned horribly and began the real ogre's rhyme.

I smell the blood of an English man.

Be he alive or be he dead, I'll grind his bones to make my bread.

Don't be silly, said his wife.

It's the bones of the little boy you had for supper that I'm boiling down for soup.

Come eat your breakfast.

There's a good ogre.

So the ogre ate his three sheep, and when he had done he went to a big Oaken chest and took out three big bags of golden pieces.

Easy put on the table and began to count their contents while his wife cleared away the breakfast things, and by and by his head began to nod, and at last he began to snore and snored so loud that the whole house shook.

Then Jack, nipped out of the oven and, seizing one of the bags of gold, crept away and ran along the straight, wide, shining white road as fast as his legs would carry him till he came to the Beanstalk.

He couldn't climb down it with a bag of gold, it was so heavy, so he just flung his burden down first and held her.

Skelter climbed after it, and when he came to the bottom, there was his mother, picking up gold pieces out of the garden as fast as she could, for of course the bag had burst.

Laws of mercy, she says.

Wherever have you been?

See?

It's been raining gold.

No, it hasn't, began Jack.

I climbed up.

Then he turned to look for the Beanstalk, but Lo and behold, it wasn't there at all.

So we knew then it was all real magic.

After that they lived happily on the gold pieces for a long time, and the bedridden father got all sorts of nice things to eat.

But at last a day came when Jack's mother showed a doleful face as she put a big yellow sovereign into Jack's hand and bade him be careful marketing, because there was not one more in the coffer.

After that they must starve.

That night Jack went supperless to bed of his own accord.

If he couldn't make money, he thought, at any rate, he could eat less money.

It was a shame for a big boy to stuff himself and bring no grist to the mill.

He slept like a top, as boys do when they don't overeat themselves.

And when he woke, hay Presto the whole room showed greenish, and there was a curtain of leaves over the window.

Another bean had grown in the night, and Jack was up it like a Lamplighter before you could say knife.

This time he didn't take nearly so long climbing until he reached the straight, wide white road, and in a Trice he found himself before the tall white house, or on the wide white steps.

The Ochre's wife was standing with a black porridge pot in her hand, and this time Jack was his boldest brass.

Good morning, he said.

I've come to ask you for breakfast, for I had no supper and I'm as hungry as a Hunter.

Go away, bad boy.

Replied the ogre's wife.

Last time I gave a boy breakfast, my man missed a whole bag of gold.

I believe you are the same, boy.

Maybe I am, maybe I'm not.

Said Jack with a laugh.

I'll tell you true when I've had my breakfast, but not till then.

So the ogre's wife, who was dreadfully curious, gave him a big bowl full of porridge, but before he had half finished it he heard the ogre coming.

Thump thump thump in with you to the oven.

Shrieked the ogre's wife.

You shall tell me when he has gone to sleep.

This time Jack saw through the steam peephole that the ogre had three fat calves strung to his belt.

Better luck today, wife.

He cried, and his voice shook the house.

Quick roast these trifles for my breakfast.

I hope the oven's hot.

And he went to feel the handle of the door.

But his wife cried out sharply, Gross.

Why you'd have to wait hours before they were done?

I'll boil them, see how bright the fire is, growled the ogre.

And then he began sniffing and calling out.

Vofuum, I smell the blood of an Englishman.

Be he alive or be he dead, I'll grind his bones to make my bread plottle.

Said the ogre's wife.

It's only the bones of the boy you had last week that I've put into the pick bucket.

Said the Ochre harshly.

But he ate the broiled calves.

And then he said to his wife.

Bring me my hen that lays the magic eggs.

I want to see gold.

So the ogre's wife brought him a great big black hen with a shiny red comb.

She plumped it down on the table and took away the breakfast things.

Then the ogre said to the hen, lay, and it promptly laid, what do you think?

A beautiful, shiny yellow golden egg.

None so dusty, Henny Penny, laughed the ogre.

I shan't have to beg as long as I've got you.

Then he said, Bay once more, and Lo and behold there was another beautiful shiny yellow golden egg.

Jack could hardly believe his eyes and made up his mind that he would have that hen come what might.

So when the ogre began to doze, he jut out like a flash from the oven, seized the hen and ran for his life.

But you see, he reckoned without his prize for hens, you know, always cackle when they leave their nests after laying an egg, and this one set up such a scrawling that it woke the ogre.

Where's my hand?

He shouted, and his wife came rushing in, and they both rushed to the door.

But Jack had got the better of them by a good start, and all they could see was a little figure right away down the wide white road, holding a big scrawling cackling fluttering black hen by the legs.

How Jack got down the Beanstalk, he never knew it was all wings and leaves and feathers and cacklings.

But get down he did, and there was his mother, wondering if the sky was going to fall.

The very moment Jack touched ground, he called out Lay, and the black hen ceased cackling and laid a great big shiny yellow golden egg.

So everyone was satisfied, and from that moment everybody had everything that money could buy for whenever they wanted anything, they just said Lay, and the black hen provided them with gold.

But Jack began to wonder if he couldn't find something else Besides money in the sky.

So one fine Moonlight Midsummer night, he refused his supper, and before he went to bed stole out to the garden with a big watering can and watered the ground under his window, for thought he there must be two more beans somewhere, and perhaps it is too dry for them to grow.

Then he slept like a top, and Lo and behold, when he awoke there was the green light shimmering through his room, and there he was in an instant on the Beanstalk, climbing, climbing, climbing for all he was worth.

But this time he knew better than to ask for his breakfast, for the ogre's wife would be sure to recognize him.

So he just hid in some bushes beside the great white house till he saw her in the scullery, and then he slipped out and hid himself in the copper, for he knew she would be sure to look in the oven first thing, and by and by he heard thump, thump, thump and peeping through a crack in the copper lid.

He could see the ogre stalk in with three huge oxen strung at his belt.

But this time no sooner had the ogre got into the house than he began shouting.

I smell the blood of an Englishman.

Be he alive or be he dead.

I'll grind his bones to make my bread for Cu.

The copper lid didn't fit tight like the oven door, and ogre's have noses like a dog's first scent.

Well, I declare, so do I.

Exclaimed the ogre's wife.

It will be that horrid boy who stole the bag of gold in the hen.

If so, he's hiding in the oven.

But when she opened the door, Lo and behold, Jack wasn't there only some joints of meat roasting and sizzling away.

Then she laughed and said.

You and me be fools for sure.

Why, it's the boy you caught last night as I was getting ready for your breakfast.

Yes, we'd be fools to take dead meat for live flesh.

So eat your breakfast.

There's a good ogre.

But the ogre, though he enjoyed roast boy very much, wasn't satisfied, and every now and then would burst out with fee five faux thumb and get up and search the cupboards, keeping Jack in a fever of fear lest he should think of the copper.

But he didn't, and when he had finished his breakfast, he called out to his wife.

Bring me my magic harp.

I want to be amused.

So she brought out a little harp and put it on the table, and the ogre leaned back in his chair and said, Lazily, sing.

And Lo and behold, the harp began to sing.

If you want to know what it sang about, why, it sang about everything, and it sang so beautifully that Jack forgot to be frightened, and the ogre forgot to think of FIFO thumb and fell asleep and did not snore.

Then Jack stole out of the copper like a mouse and crept hands and knees to the table, raised himself up ever so softly, and laid hold of the magic harp, for he was determined to have it, but no sooner had he touched it.

Then it cried out quite loud, Master, master.

So the ogre woke, saw Jack making off, and rushed after him.

My goodness, it was a race.

Jack was nimble, but the ogre stride was twice as long.

So though Jack turned and twisted and doubled like a hair.

Yet at last, when he got to the Beanstalk, the ogre was not a dozen yards behind him.

There wasn't time to think, so Jack just flung himself onto the stalk and began to go down as fast as he could, while the harp kept calling, Master, master, at the top of his 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.

But 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.

After that everyone was quite happy for they had gold and to spare.

And if the bedridden 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 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.