Part 6 (2/2)
The boy set out gaily for the garage, to have the motor repaired, and on the way he met a green-goods grocer who displayed a handful of beautiful red, white, and blue beans. Jack stopped to look at what he supposed was a new kind of poker chip, and the man persuaded the silly youth to exchange the automobile for the beans.
When he brought home the ”chips” his mother laughed loudly. ”You are just like your father; he didn't know beans, either,” she said. ”Dig a hole in the tennis court, Jack, and plant your poker chips, and see what will happen.”
Jack did as he was told to do, and the next morning he went out to see whether anything had happened. What was his amazement to find that a ma.s.s of twisted stalks had grown out of his jackpot and climbed till they covered the high cliff back of the tennis court, disappearing above it.
II
Jack came of a family of climbers. His mother had climbed into society and was still climbing. The funny thing about climbers is that they never deceive anybody; every one knows just what they are up to. As Jack had inherited the climbing pa.s.sion he began without hesitation to ascend the beanstalk, and when he reached the top he was as tired as if he had spent the day laying bricks or selling goods behind a counter; but he perked up when he beheld a fairy in pink tights who looked very much like a coryphee in the first row of ”The Girly Girl.”
”Is this a roof garden?” asked Jack, looking about him curiously.
”No, kid,” replied the Fairy, tapping him playfully with her spear. ”You are in the Land of Pleasure, and in yonder castle lives a horrid Giant called Ennui, who bores everybody he catches to death.”
Jack put on a brave face and lighted a cigarette. ”Has he ever caught you, little one?” he asked.
”No,” she laughed, ”but I'm knocking wood. Fairies don't get bored until they grow old, or at least middle-aged.”
”It's a wonder,” said Jack, ”that the Giant doesn't bore himself to death some day.”
”He might,” said the Fairy, ”if it were not for his wonderful talking harp, which keeps harping upon Socialism, and the single tax, and the rights of labor, and a lot of other mush; but you see it keeps Ennui stirred up, so that he is never bored entirely stiff.”
”Well,” said Jack, ”me for that harp, if I die for it!” And thanking Polly Twinkletoes for her information, and promising to buy her a supper when he got his next allowance, he sauntered toward the castle. As he paused before the great gate it was opened suddenly by a most unpleasant looking giantess.
”Ho! ho!” she cried, seizing Jack by the arm, ”you're the young scamp who sold me that lightning cleaner last week. I'll just keep you till you take the spots out of my husband's Sunday pants. If you don't, he'll knock the spots out of _you_!”
III
While the Giantess spoke she dragged Jack into the castle. ”Into this wardrobe,” said she; ”and mind you don't make the smallest noise, or my man will wring your neck. He takes a nap after dinner, and then you'll have a chance to demonstrate that grease-eradicator you sold me last week.”
The wardrobe was as big as Jack's yacht, and the key-hole as big as a barrel, so the boy could see everything that took place without.
Presently the castle was shaken as if by an earthquake, and a great voice roared: ”Wife! wife! I smell gasoline!”
Jack trembled, remembering that in tinkering around his car that morning he had spilled gas on his clothes.
”Be quiet!” replied the Giantess. ”It's only the lightning-cleaner which that scamp of a peddler sold me the other day.”
The Giant ate a couple of sheep; then, pus.h.i.+ng his plate away, he called for his talking harp. And while he smoked, the harp rattled off a long string of stuff about the equal liability of all men to labor, the abolition of the right of inheritance, and kindred things. Jack resolved that when he got hold of the harp he would serve it at a formal dinner, under a great silver cover. What a sensation it would cause among his guests when it began to sing its little song about the abolition of the right of inheritance!
In a short time the Giant fell asleep, for the harp, like many reformers, became wearisome through exaggeration of statement. Jack slipped from the wardrobe, seized the harp, and ran out of the castle.
”Master! Master!” cried the music-maker. ”Wake up! We are betrayed!”
Glancing back, Jack saw the Giant striding after him, and gave himself up for lost; but at that moment he heard his name called, and he saw the Fairy, Polly Twinkletoes, beckoning to him from a taxicab. Jack sprang into the machine and they reached the beanstalk a hundred yards ahead of the giant. Down the stalk they slipped and dropped, the Giant lumbering after. Once at the bottom, Jack ran to the garage and got out his man-killer, and when the Giant reached ground he was knocked, as Jack had promised, into the middle of the proximate month.
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