Jack and the Giants by Headline Books / Zoom Into Books

Multi-headed giants block Jack’s attempts to earn his fortune. He out-wits the entire giant family in a unique and humorous fashion. This is another tale in the ancient American Jack Tale cycle. Salsi, a known interpreter of American folklore, retells the story with magical twists and turns that are matched by Young’s dynamic illustrations. This is yarn-spinning at its best. “Did you ever see a giant with three heads? You’ll enjoy watching Jack outsmart two of them, and their kin, in this colorful story from Appalachian folklore traditions. Lynn Salsi knows her Jack Tales, and after you’ve read this lively retelling of one of Jack’s most incredible adventures, you’ll want to “fetch it out” and read it again.” —Tina Hanlon, PhD, Associate Professor of English Ferrum College and Hollins University Graduate Program in Children’s Literature

“This is a clever retelling of “Jack the Giant-Killer,” mixed with elements from “Jack and the Varmints.” Lynn Salsi orients this tale towards elementary-age schoolchildren, and they are sure to enjoy it as well as the illustrations by James Young. Salsi has a way with the Appalachian dialect, preserving the flavor of the original tradition.” —James E. Doan, PhD, Nova Southeastern University

“Jack is in trouble again. The boy is a Giant magnet. This is another satisfying entry in Lynn Salsi’s Jack Tale series. I know what my great-niece is getting for Christmas this year. This story made me yearn for a whomping stick of my own.” —Timons Esaias, Seton Hill University

Lynn Salsi, author of 19 books, is the recipient of many writing awards, including an American Library Association Notable Book Award and Historian of the Year. She is also a Jacqueline Lougheed World Understanding Lecturer (Alpha Delta Kappa). Lynn is known for retelling ancient tales of America’s first settlers and for her travels to 18 countries to study global stories.

James Young is an illustrator and author/illustrator of 24 books. He is known for his colorful, dynamic illustrations that engage readers. He enjoys teaching writers, students, and teachers the art of creating picture books. He’s a librarian with the Greensboro Public Library. In his free time he plays banjo with the Nutbush Ramblers.

Lynn and James present literature and author programs for libraries, schools, conferences, festivals, and museums. They share a Clark Cox Award and a Gold Medal presented by Military Writers Society of America for Jack and the Dragon.

Lynn Salsi

Illustrated by James Young

by Lynn Salsi Illustrated by James Young

For Morgan Elizabeth (L.S.) and for Mary (J.Y.)

Jack and the Giants by Lynn Salsi illustrated by James Young copyright ©2013 Lynn Salsi All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any other form or for any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording or any information storage system, without written permission from Headline Books. To order additional copies of this book or for book publishing information, or to contact the author: Headline Kids P. O. Box 52 Terra Alta, WV 26764 www.headlinekids.com Tel: 800-570-5951 Email: mybook@headlinebooks.com www.headlinebooks.com Published by Headline Books Headline Kids is an imprint of Headline Books ISBN-13: 978-0-938467-52-6

Library of Congress Control Number: 2012947099 Salsi, Lynn Jack and the giants / by Lynn Salsi ; illustrated by James Young p. cm. ISBN 978-0-938467-52-6 1. Appalachian traditional tale--fiction. 2. Jack Tale--fiction. 5. Domestic fiction. I. Young, James P R I N T E D I N T H E U N I T E D S TAT E S O F A M E R I C A

One day, Jack buckled on his belt, stuck a corn pone in his pocket, and hugged his mama. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m going to seek my fortune. I’ll come back soon.” His mama waved goodbye, as Jack walked over the ridge.

Soon he spotted a piece of wood along the road. I’ll make something to protect myself from varmints, Jack thought, as he sat on a stump and whittled out a whomping stick.

When he finished, he walked until he came to a muddle-puddle where horse flies buzzed around. Jack slapped down his stick—whomp! “One, two, three, four, five, six,” he counted, “seven with one whack!”

He was mighty proud and set off again, whistling as pretty as he pleased.

Directly, Jack came to a village where a blacksmith was hammering horseshoes. “I’m looking for work. You need a helper?” The blacksmith stopped working. “Naw, you look too scrawny. But there’s a farmer over yander who needs help clearing land. He might take you on.”

“That’ll do,” Jack said. “Say, Mr. Blacksmith, before I go, please cut some words on my leather belt. Make it say—BIG MAN JACK KILLED SEVEN WITH ONE WHACK.”

The blacksmith obliged, and Jack buckled on his belt. He tramped on and on till he found the farmer out chopping wood.

“I’ve come to help clear land,” Jack said. The farmer waved his hand toward a thick forest. “I need all those trees cleared, so I can plant crops. But you look too puny to do heavy work.” “I may look little, but I’m strong,” Jack said. “How do you feel about giants?” the farmer asked. “I’ll pay ya!” “Giants!” Jack backed away. Then he thought of the money he’d earn. “I can handle giants.” “They’re pretty rough,” the farmer said. “There’s a Daddy and a Mama. Their young ‘uns have eight heads among them. They carry off a cow when they’re hungry and pick their teeth with fence posts. I can’t plant nary a seed till they’re run off my land.” “Bedad,” Jack said, “where I come from, we use giants for ridey horses.” “Sorry,” the farmer said, “you’re just too little.” That made Jack fly mad. When he turned to walk away, the farmer noticed his belt—BIG MAN JACK KILLED SEVEN WITH ONE WHACK. 8

“Hold on,” the farmer called, “are you up to the writing on your belt?” “Of course I am,” Jack said. “Come on. Let’s have supper, and we’ll talk.”

The farmer’s wife set out more food than Jack had ever seen. He ate squash, fried chicken, cornbread, cabbage, ‘taters, collard greens, gravy, pole beans, apple pie, and fruitcake. There was plenty of fresh milk to drink. Jack decided to save some for later. He slipped open the pouch on his belt and filled it with food. Then he poured in milk to make it nice and sloshy.

The next morning the farmer got Jack up for breakfast. “Okay, Jack, I’ll give you a thousand guineas to run off the giants. Clear the land for plowing for an extra five hundred.” Jack agreed. The farmer handed him a big ol’ two-headed ax. “You’ll need this.” “No thanks,” Jack said, I only need my whomping stick.” He set off, and after a spell, came to a good climbing tree. He settled on a sturdy branch and leaned against the tree trunk like he was sitting in a chair. Jack took the whomping stick and banged on the branch—kachunk, kachunk, kachunk. He rested a spell, and started again, kachunk, kachunk, kachunk. Before long a two-headed Giant Boy came up. “Who are you?”

“Can’t you read?” Jack pointed to his belt. “BIG…MAN…JACK….” The Giant Boy yelled so loudly the tree shook. “What are you doing up there?” “I’m clearing new ground,” Jack said calmly. “I’ve never seen a man clear ground while sitting in a tree.” “We do it this way in my country,” Jack said. “I can do a lot of things you can’t do.” “I can do anything,” the Giant Boy said. “Can you squeeze milk from a rock?” Jack asked. “No, show me, or I’ll shake you down and eat you.” He tossed a rock to Jack. Jack jabbed a hole in his pouch with his whittling knife. He squeezed the rock against it until milk dribbled out and landed at the Giant Boy’s feet.

“Gar,” the Giant Boy yelled. “Throw me that rock. It must be magic.” He squeezed it until both his faces turned red. The rock turned to powder, but no milk came out. That made the Giant Boy mad. He shook the tree so hard Jack had to hold on with both hands. “Stop! Watch this!” Jack hollered. “I can cut open my stomach and show you my guts. Then, I’ll sew myself back up with a piece of twine.” “Show me,” the Giant said. Jack sliced open the pouch. The sloshy food oozed out. After that Jack took a needle and twine from his pocket and sewed it up. “I can do that,” the Giant Boy said. He took his pocket knife and sliced his belly wide open. “Yow,” he cried, as he ran off screaming in pain, hollering for his mama. Jack climbed down. This giant thing might be dangerous. I’d better head home and forget about the guineas.

Suddenly he heard trees a-crashing and a-smashing. Something big was headed his way. Jack jumped inside a hollow log beside the path. He peeped out through a knothole and saw threeheaded Giant Twins. “We need to find the boy who hurt our brother,” one said. “I’ll smoosh him like a butter biscuit,” the other one said. “I’ll turn him inside out like a raggedy ol’ sock.” They yakked so long Jack was ready to pop out and say, “Here I am, smoosh me.”

The Giant Twins spied the ol’ log. “Don’t forget. Mama told us to bring kindling wood,” the first one said. He pointed where Jack was hiding. “We’ll look for that boy later. Let’s get this home.” They lifted the log up on their shoulders and started down the path. Jack crawled to the front end. He reached out and whomped the Giant Twin on one of his heads.

“Hey, why did you hit me?” Jack slid to the other end and whomped the other Twin. “Now, who’s hitting who?” Jack hit the first one again. Then he went back and forth until all six heads had taken a good thunk from his whomping stick. The Giant Twins threw down the log and started fighting. When it got quiet, Jack poked his head out and saw the Giants lying in the road. They had knocked themselves out. Jack jumped out and tore off down the road. Blinded by panic, he bumped right into ol’ Daddy Giant who was looking for his sons. “Who are you?” he roared. “I’m Jack.” He stood frozen to the ground. “Well, my wife’s at home sewing up my littlest boy. Are you the man that bested him?”

“That’s me,” Jack said. “I’m helping the farmer clear new ground.” “My boys can get rough,” Daddy Giant said, “but I never met a human that could beat a giant.” “Well, don’t go any farther. Your Twins are spraddled out in the road.” Daddy Giant got scared. “You should come home with me so we can talk.”

Jack was too afraid to run away. When they got to the cabin, Daddy Giant hollered, “Mama, here’s that Big Man Jack who’s been whupping on our boys.” Mama Giant’s big head was bobbing mad. “Pshaw, he doesn’t look big to me. I’ll bet he can’t squash a squiggly bug.” Then she whispered to Daddy Giant, “Test his strength. Play the crowbar game.” Daddy Giant picked up a stout crowbar like it was a feather and threw it to Jack. “Throw it back to me.”

Jack couldn’t pick up a gigantic steel bar. Instead, he climbed on top of it and hollered, “Hey, Uncle! Hey, Uncle! Hey, Uncle! Answer me!” “What are you doing?” Daddy Giant hollered. “I’m calling my uncle who lives way over the mountain. He’s a blacksmith and can use this metal bar in his work. When he answers, I’ll throw it to him. Shucks, throwing it to you is a baby game. Hey, Uncle!” Jack yelled again. “Don’t throw it away. I need it for my work.” Daddy Giant didn’t want to take a chance of losing his crowbar. “Come on inside, Jack. Supper’s on the table.”

Jack was the only one eating. The Boy Giant’s belly was sore from the stitches, and the Twin Giants were too tired from their beating. They went straight to bed. Daddy Giant was afraid to eat, and Mama Giant was too mad. Jack ate enough for all five of them. Daddy Giant insisted that Jack spend the night. “It’s too dangerous for you to walk through the woods alone.” Jack didn’t sleep a wink. He sat in the gigantic bed and planned an escape. At dawn he tried to sneak out. But Mama Giant was waiting for him. “Come over here, Jack. Help me light my stove, so I can cook breakfast.” 24

Jack took a length of stove wood and got a fire going. Then he put his hand up to his ear and said, “Hark.” “What is it, Jack?” Mama Giant asked. “I hear my brother, Tom, calling. He’s a lot bigger than me. He says that he’s coming this way. He pure detests giants.” “Land!” Mama Giant yelled. “Hide me! Don’t let him get me!” 25

“Quick!” Jack said, “get in the stove. I’ll tell him you left an hour ago.” Mama Giant jumped right in, and Jack shut the door. Then he sat to wait. Soon the others smelled something cooking and rushed into the kitchen. They looked for Mama, but they only saw Jack. Daddy Giant said, “Where’s my wife?”

Jack opened the stove door, and she popped out. Mama Giant lit out the front door, ran to the creek, and jumped in the water to cool off. “Who’s next?” Jack said, holding the stove door open.

The Giants got on their knees. “Please, Jack, don’t hurt us,” they begged. “We’ll give you all of our treasure.”

“Fetch it out,” Jack said. The Giants pulled out a chest full of gold and silver and all kinds of jewels. Daddy Giant held up a pair of silver ankle boots. “When you wear these, they’ll let you travel forty miles in one leap.”

“Okay,” Jack said. “It ain’t much, but I’ll take it. There’s only one more thing.” “What’s that?” Daddy Giant asked. “Git out of here—don’t come back.” The giants gitted. They ran straight through the forest and knocked down every tree, clearing a new field. As they raced by the farmer’s house, they yelled, “We’re going to the end of the earth to get away from Big Man Jack.”

Jack walked down the mountain and collected his guineas from the farmer. He put on the magic boots and arrived safely at home in two leaps. His mama was so happy that she baked a ginger cake. Jack used the money wisely to plant a spring crop. He promised his mama they would never go hungry again. On cold winter nights, Jack warmed by the fire and told his kin how he beat the giants. He kept the magic boots handy in case a giant infestation ever came on his land and he needed a fast get-away. The End 32

Lynn Salsi

Illustrated by James Young