Jack the Giant-Killer – Joseph Jacobs tales

Jack The Giant Killer Film

When good King Arthur reigned, there lived near the Land’s End of England, in the county of Cornwall, a farmer who had one only son called Jack. He was brisk and of a ready lively wit, so that nobody or nothing could worst him.

In those days the Mount of Cornwall was kept by a huge giant named Cormoran. He was eighteen feet in height, and about three yards round the waist, of a fierce and grim countenance, the terror of all the neighbouring towns and villages. He lived in a cave in the midst of the Mount, and whenever he wanted food he would wade over to the main- land, where he would furnish himself with whatever came in his way. Everybody at his approach ran out of their houses, while he seized on their cattle, making nothing of carrying half-a-dozen oxen on his back at a time; and as for their sheep and hogs, he would tie them round his waist like a bunch of tallow-dips. He had done this for many years, so that all Cornwall was in despair.

One day Jack happened to be at the town-hall when the magistrates were sitting in council about the Giant. He asked: “What reward will be given to the man who kills Cormoran?” “The giant’s treasure,” they said, “will be the reward.” Quoth Jack: “Then let me undertake it.”

Continue reading

The Frog King, or Iron Henry (Grimm’s Fairy)



In olden times when wishing still helped one, there lived a king

whose daughters were all beautiful, but the youngest was so beautiful

that the sun itself, which has seen so much, was astonished whenever

it shone in her face.  Close by the king’s castle lay a great dark

forest, and under an old lime-tree in the forest was a well, and when

the day was very warm, the king’s child went out into the forest and

sat down by the side of the cool fountain, and when she was bored she

took a golden ball, and threw it up on high and caught it, and this

ball was her favorite plaything.


Now it so happened that on one occasion the princess’s golden ball

did not fall into the little hand which she was holding up for it,

but on to the ground beyond, and rolled straight into the water.  The

king’s daughter followed it with her eyes, but it vanished, and the

well was deep, so deep that the bottom could not be seen.  At this

she began to cry, and cried louder and louder, and could not be

comforted.  And as she thus lamented someone said to her, “What ails

you, king’s daughter?  You weep so that even a stone would show pity.”

Continue reading