The giant suddenly awoke and tried to pursue him; but he had drank so much that he could hardly stand. Jack ran as fast as he could; in a little time the giant recovered sufficiently to walk slowly, or rather to reel after him. Had he been sober, he must have overtaken Jack instantly; but, as he then was, Jack contrived to be first at the top of the bean-stalk. The giant called after him in a voice like thunder, and sometimes was very near him. The moment Jack got down the bean-stalk, he ran for a hatchet. Just at that instant the giant was beginning to descend, but Jack with his hatchet cut the bean-stalk close off at the root, which made the giant fall headlong into the garden, and the fall killed him. At this instant the fairy appeared; she charged Jack to be dutiful to his mother, and to follow his father's good example, which was the only way to be happy. She then disappeared, after recovering her hen and her harp, which Jack gave to her most thankfully, having acquired great riches and revenged the tragical death of his father. THE BABES IN THE WOOD. A great many years ago, there lived in the county of Norfolk a gentleman and his lady. The gentleman was brave, generous, and honourable; and the lady gentle, beautiful, and virtuous; they were beloved by all who knew them, and were blessed with two children, a boy and a girl. The boy was only about three years old, and the girl not quite two, when the gentleman was seized with a dangerous malady, and the lady, in attending her beloved husband, caught the contagion. Notwithstanding every medical assistance, their disorder daily increased; and, as they expected to be soon snatched away from their little babes, they sent for the gentleman's brother, and gave the darlings into his care. "Ah! brother," said the dying man, "you see I have but a short time to live; yet neither death nor pain can pierce my heart with half so much anguish as what I feel at the thought of what these dear babes will do without a parent's care. Brother, they will have none but you to be kind to them, to see them clothed and fed, and to teach them to be good." "Dear, dear brother," said the dying lady, "you must be father, mother, and uncle too, to these dear innocent lambs. First, let William be taught to read; and then he should be told how good his father was. And little Jane--Oh! brother, it wrings my heart to talk of her; think of the gentle usage she will need, and take her fondly on your knee, brother, and she and William too will pay your care with love." "How it does grieve my heart to see you, my dear relatives, in this mournful condition," replied the uncle. "But be comforted, there may yet be hopes of your well-doing; but should we have the misfortune to lose you, I will do all you can desire for your darling children. In me they shall find father, mother, and uncle; but, dear brother, you have said nothing of your wealth."