At the bottom of a high hill lived Jack
and his mother. Their house was near a
small stream which came tumbling over
the high rocks down to the side of their
cottage, and then ran quietly along in the
valley. Jack had never been out of this
quiet little spot, though he sometimes
thought he should very much like to see
what sort of things were going on above;
for up at the top of the hill he could see
some parts of a house that looked much
larger than his mother's little cottage, and
he wanted very much to see whether there
were any people in it, and whether they
had a garden like his mother's and how
things went on above there. Now by the
side of the cottage Jack had planted a very
large bean. He had got some of those
famous beans which you have read about
in the old Jack story, which grow so large
that one may climb them; and when Jack
saw his had grown up, up, up very high, he
thought he would try to see if he could
not make a pleasant journey upon his bean-
stalk. So he eat his breakfast one morning,
and kissed his mother, and took his hatchet
in his hand and began to climb up, and
while he was climbing he sang,--

Hitch my hatchet and up I go,
The sky is above me, the earth below.

And the little birds peeped out of their
nests, and the squirrels stopped while they
were cracking their nuts,and the grass-
hoppers chirped,--

What is the fellow about?
Climbing the bean-stalk tall and stout.

Now Jack climbed up and up and up, till
he began to be quite tired, and at last he
got up so high that he could look down
into his mother's chimney; and he sat down
on one of the strong branches of his bean
and took out of his pocket a large piece of
bread and butter pinned up in a napkin,
and ate it very heartily. Then he wiped
his mouth and put up his napkin, took his
hatchet in his hand, and began again to
climb, and while he was climbing he

Hitch my hatchet and up I go,
The sky is above, and the earth below.

Now when Jack stopped singing he
heard a strange sort of sound, as if some-
body was pouring out a great pitcher full
of water, and then, mixed with it a clap-
ping noise, and little Jack did not know
what it was, but he climbed on, and kept
still singing,--

Hitch my hatchet and up I go,
What is above me I soon shall know.

At last Jack reached the top of the bank,
and there he saw a great smooth pond of
water, very still, not running along like the
little river in the valley, but still and clear
as his mother's looking-glass, and at the
sides of this water he saw great, tall houses,
and Jack wanted very much to see what
was in them. He looked all round to see a
door, but there was none on the side next
him, and he walked along by the edge of
the pond till he came close to one of the
windows, by the side of which grew another
of those large beans such as he had climbed
the hill upon; so he began to climb and

Hitch my hatchet and up I go,
The sky is above, and the water below;

and all the time there was such a clapping
and humming inside the house that he could
hardly hear the sound of his own voice.
At last he came to the top of the window,
and finding it pushed down, he gave a jump,
and found himself in a room where there
were a great many boys and girls sitting
round, and picking among huge piles of
cloth of every size, shape, and color, and
as they picked they sang,--

Pick, pick the black from the white,
Assort the whole bundle before it is night.

Then Jack laid his hatchet down by his
side and began to pick and sort as fast as
the best of them, singing all the while,--

Pick, pick the black from the white,
We'll finish our work before 'tis night.

Jack worked and watched, and saw men,
as fast as the rags were thrown down, pick
them up, and put them into baskets; so he
thought he should like to see what was
done with them; so he followed the men
with his hatchet in his hand, and saw them
throw the cloth in a large, round place,
which looked like his mother's coffee-mill,
only much larger, and as they pored in the
baskets full the men sang,--

Into the hopper the rags we throw,
Grind, grind goes the wheel below.

Now Jack wondered very much at all
this, and thought he would run along a lit-
tle further; and keeping his hatchet in his
hand, he went into another room, where he
saw a long, large thing like his mother's
pig trough, only much larger, and in and
about this were wheels and rollers, which
Jacky did not know the use of, and the
trough seemed full of a white kind of paste
and all the time a great roller was turning
round in the paste the men were watching
it and kept singing,--

The mill has ground the rags to paste,
Roller roller, turn round without haste.

Then Jack came to another place and
saw some of this paste going into a thing
that looked like a sieve, and many other
strange things which he could not very
well understand, till at last there came out
a great sheet of white paper; and then he
came where a number of girls were folding
the paper and kept singing,--

The mill and the water and man with care
Have turned dirty rags to paper fair.

Then Jacky clapped his hands at the
sight and began to sing,

Hitch my hatchet and up I go,
The higher I get the more I know.

Now after Jack had seen all the won-
ders of making paper, he looked up
and saw it was almost sunset, and he thought
it was time for him to go home and see his
good mother. So he took his hatchet in
his hand, and ran down the stairs of the
paper-mill, and soon reached the borders
of the pond on which it was placed, and
looking round he was very glad to see the
top of his great beanstalk, up which he
had climbed in the morning, and which he
knew would lead him directly home. So
he jumped upon it very quickly, and it bore
him without bending, being a great deal
stouter than the beans which grow now-a-
days. These, instead of being strong enough
to hold a little boy, are so weak that
they cannot keep themselves from falling
to the ground, without the help of a string
or a stick to run upon. But this bean of
Jacky's was very different from all this; it
bore him up firmly as he clung about it
with one hand and two legs, holding
his hatchet in the other hand, and while he
went down it smoothly he kept singing,--

Down I go on my wonderful bean,
To tell my dear mother the things I have seen

And as he was sliding down he saw the
little birds who had been singing so merrily
in the morning, sitting in their nests with
their heads under their wings and their
young ones safely sheltered under them.
The squirrels were also tired and had left
off running about in search of nuts, the
cricket was rubbing her still wings toge-
ther and making a sharp shrill noise, which
she thought very pretty to make her little
crickets be still and go to sleep--and every
now and then he heard the great bull-frogs
in the pond above give a hoarse sound by
way of making their pollywogs lie still.
All these evening noises made little Jack
feel quite sleepy, and he felt very happy
when at last his feet hit the ground,
and he saw his dear mother sitting at their
cottage door with her knitting in her hand;
and while she was knitting she would sing--

Quick, quick, let my fingers fly,
For home comes my Jacky by-and-bye.

As soon as Jack's feet touched the ground
he ran to his mother and kissed her, and
told her what a pleasant day he had
passed, and how he had seen people very
busy in making dirty rags into clean
paper. "And now, dear mother," said he,
"I should like to know what they are going
to do with all this white paper?" "I will
tell you all I know about it," said his
mother, "while you are eating your supper,
for I think you must be hungry, and here
is a nice bowl of huckleberries and milk
which I have got all ready for you." Jack
clapped his hands at the sight of this nice
supper, and sat down.
While Jack was eating his upper, his
mother said, "As I have always lived
at the bottom of this deep valley, and
have been very busy always about our
own little house, I never knew much that
was going on out of it; but your dear
father, Jack, who died, you know, when
you were a very little boy, was much wiser
than I am, and he used to tell me a great
deal that people did who lived up above
here. Among other things, he told me
much of books, which he said were made
out of this very paper you have been tell-
ing me about. He said it was folded up
very neatly, and then had marks made all
over it in a very curious manner. He said
it was very troublesome to make these
books, and very difficult to learn to read
them; but that there were people who
made a business of teaching children to
read, and that if little boys begin early,
and were quite attentive, they would soon
learn. He said there were a great many
of these books in the world, and that when
people knew how to make use of them
they took the greatest pleasure in reading.
He used to say, that when you got big
enough, he meant to take you up among
the people who knew more than we did,
and that you could learn, and could
read to us when we got old, and amuse us
very much. I have always been thinking
of this, and when you asked me this morn-
ing to allow you to climb the bean-stalk, I
thought to you might perhaps hear something
about these matters, and so, as the weather
was fine, and you have grown a stout lad,
I thought best to let you try."

"I thank you, dear mother; and what you
tell me makes me want very much to go
up again, and perhaps I shall be so lucky
as to find out something more about these
things; but now I have eaten my supper,
and my dayıs work makes me pretty
sleepy, and I think I will bid you good
night, and creep into my little cot bed."

The next morning he awoke quite early,
and put his head out of the window; he
felt in a hurry to begin his travels again,
but every thing was quite still and quiet.
Jack thought he would try to wake people
up, so he opened his mouth and made just
such a noise as the cock does in crowing.
This waked his mother's cock, who imme-
diately answered to Jack, thinking he was
one of his own race, with a shrill cock-a-
doodle-doo. This sounded in the still
morning far up to the village above the
bean-stalk; cock after cock aroused himself,
and uttered his shrill note, and thus it
happened that little Jacky was the means
of waking up the whole village an hour
earlier than usual; last it was no matter,
if they all went gaily to work, for I dare
say they had slept long enough. After
Jack's mother had given him his breakfast,
and a piece of bread and butter in a
napkin, he kissed her, and taking his
hatchet in his hand, scampered off to his
bean, and began to climb, singing--

Hitch my hatchet, and up I go,
There is much above I want to know.

And the little birds and the squirrels
looked out of their nests and began to

What is the little fellow about?
Climbing again to the beanstalk stout.

But they all had enough to do in clearing
up their own nests and teaching their
young ones how to behave, to spend much
time in thinking of other folks' business,
and they soon forgot little Jacky, and he
climbed away bravely till he got to the
top of his bean, then he jumped off and got
safely to the ground above. He saw the
paper mill which he had visited the day
before, so he did not care to go into that
again; he walked along till he reached
another building which was very tall, and
he thought he should like very much to
know what was doing inside of it. He
saw a little boy about as large as himself
coming out of the door and he asked him
what was the name of this building. "It is
called a Type Foundry," said the little boy,
"and it is where they make the letters with
which they print our books." Jack was
very glad that he had come to this house,
and he ran up the stairs with his hatchet
in his hand, and pounded with it as hard
as he could at the door at the top. It was
opened by a man, who said, "What do you
want, little boy?" "I want to come in," said
Jack, "and see how you make the things
with which the letters in books are made."
"But do not you see what is over the door?"
Now on this door was printed, in large
letters, [PAGE]
"I see some strange-looking things of black
on a white board," said Jack, "but I do not
know what they mean." The man then
asked Jack if he could not read. Jack
told him that nobody had ever taught him,
but that he wished very much to read, and
to know how books were made, and that
was the reason he had climbed his bean-
stalk and come to that house. The man,
seeing him such a nice, well-behaved little
boy, told him he might come in, though the
letters on the door were placed there to
keep out idle little boys, who only came in be-
cause they did not know what to do with
themselves. Jacky said he was not one
of those, for he could cut wood with his
hatchet, and do many other things, and all
he wanted was to learn as much as he
could. He followed the man into the room,
and there he saw a very large sort of a
kettle over the fire, filled with something
very bright and shining, different from any
thing he had ever seen in his motherıs ket-
tles; this the man told him was what they
called the type metal. He said, "It is made
of lead, and some other things, which have
such long names that I am afraid you
would not remember if I were to tell them
to you." Then Jack looked and saw a
man take a dipper and dip out some of this
melted stuff and pour it into a mould,
which he held in one of his hands. After
having poured in the metal, he gave it a
hard jerk, and then he saw the
mould open, and out dropped a very smooth
looking little thing, which Jack wanted to
see so much that he was just going to take
it in his fingers; but he remembered that
his mother, though she had not been able
to teach him to read, had taught him never
to meddle with what did not belong to him.
It was lucky he did recollect this; if he
had touched it he would have burned his
fingers sadly, for the type was quite hot.
At a little distance stood a boy, who took
the types from the end of the pile, after
they had had time to cool, and clipped off
the rough pieces of metal which had run
over the crevices in the mould. Jacky
thought he could soon learn to do this; but
while he was thinking about it, he followed
some men who were carrying some of the
types, after they were trimmed, into the
next room, where there were a great many
girls sitting round stone tables, and rubbing
the types; and as they rubbed they sung

Fast we make our fingers go,
And smooth falls the type in the case below.

Jacky was just stepping up to offer to help
them, when he saw a man busy at the
other end of the room; and he went up to
him, and saw a great many of these bright
little things, after they had been run in the
mould by the man, clipped by the boy, and
rubbed by the girls, now placed side by
side in a long case, and the man passed over
them with his strong arm a sharp tool,
which smoothed the two sides which had
not been rubbed even; he then cut a little
notch on one end, the reason of which he
told Jack he would learn when he was
older. They were then placed in a singu-
lar little case, and Jack heard them say
they were to be taken to the printing-office.
Jack asked if he might follow them, and as
he had been so quiet the men gave him
leave; but what he saw there I will tell
you in the next volume.
When I last told you about Jack, he had
been seeing how types are made, and hav-
ing heard that they were to be taken to
the printing-office, he took his hatchet in
his hand and trotted along after the man
who was carrying them. When he saw
this man go into a house, he went in after
him, and when he went up stairs Jack fol-
lowed him. He found it somewhat easier
to go up these stairs than to climb the
bean-stalk, though he could do that pretty
briskly. He did not dare to hitch his
hatchet into the stairs; for though they
did not look very neat, but quite black and
dirty, yet Jacky had been taught by his
mother not to stick his hatchet or his pen-
knife into any thing which he could hurt.
He had got so used to singing to his hatchet,
however, that he could not help singing as
he ran,--

One foot over the other I go,
How to print books I want to know.

When he got to the head of the first flight
of stairs, he saw the man with the types
going up another just like them, but there
was a room just before him, and the door
stood open. Jack thought before he went
up the second flight he would look in and
see what was going on in this room. There
he saw a gentleman sitting before a table,
with a piece of the white paper, such as
he had seen made of the rags, lying in
front of him. In his hand the man had
something which looked to Jack much like
one of the feathers out of his gooseıs tail.
With this feather, which was made sharp
at one end, the gentleman was making
black marks on the paper. To make the
marks black he dipped his feather into a
little thing which stood by his side, which
was filled with a black sort of stuff. Jacky
did not know the name of this stuff, and he
stood looking at it very steadily. The
gentleman at last looked up, and seeing lit-
tle Jacky with his bright eyes and his
round cap and his hatchet over his shoul-
der, he wondered what he wanted, and
said, "Who are you, my little fellow, and
what do you want?" Jacky told him his
story, and how he wanted to see them
make books. So the man told him he had
come to the right place for that, and he
might take the paper on which he had just
been making the marks, and run up the
stairs with it, and tell the man he would
see there that he had brought him some
copy, and ask him to be so kind as to let
him see them print. Jacky was very glad,
and he took the paper carefully and ran
up the stairs; and as he ran he sang

Up I go, to hear and to look,
And try to find out how they make a book.

When he got up to the head of the stairs
he went into a long room, where he saw a
number of men and boys quite busy. Some
of them stood up before large high tables,
the tops of which were made slanting and
divided into little square boxes. Out of
these Jack observed the men took, very
fast, one after another, little types like the
ones he had seen at the foundry, except
that they looked black, instead of being
bright and shining, like the ones he had
seen there. Each man had a piece of pa-
per, like what Jack had brought up from
the gentleman below, at which he looked
every moment, and seemed to place the
types in the same order the letters were on
the paper, in a stick which he held in his
hand. Jack went up to one of these men,
gave them the paper he had brought up,
told them the gentleman below had sent it,
and said he should like to see them print.
The man told him to open his eyes, shut
his mouth, keep his hands still, and his ears
open, and he did not doubt he would soon
learn; but that they did not like noisy
meddling boys in the office. Jack promised
to do no harm, and began to look about
him. He saw one of the men, after getting
his stick full of the types, go and place
them in a case, where there were some
others fixed in the same way. Jack turned
away for a moment to look at something
else, and he heard a little noise, and pre-
sently some one said, in a voice as if he
were sorry, "Dear me, itıs all pi!" Now
Jack, who began to be hungry, did not feel
very sorry at the thought of there being
plenty of pie near at hand, for, like most
little boys, he was quite fond of pie. He
loved apple pie, and cranberry pie, and
mince pie, and indeed almost any kind of
pie. But on looking a little more sharply
he found that it was none of these kinds
of pie that the printers were talking about,
but that they had a funny fashion, when by
any chance these types fell into a heap, to
call it tumbling into pi. This made Jack
laugh, but he stooped down and tried to
help them pick up their types. Finding he
could not place them where they belonged,
because he did not know how, he walked
along a little farther, and saw on a flat sort
of table a great many of the types arranged
in nice order. By the side stood a young
woman, who laid over these types a large
sheet of white paper, and on the other side
a girl took it off, after a large sort of door
had shut down over the paper and the
whole had rolled away to a little distance,
had been pressed hard and had come back
to its old place; here the cover was lifted
up and the girl took the paper off, as I told
you, and laid it on a pile by her side. This
Jack saw was covered all over with nice
regular-looking marks. The girls, as they
were at work, sometimes were singing, and
Jack thought he could hear them say,

Press the ink on the paper with speed,
Out comes a book for a boy to read.

He watched this pile, and saw the large
sheets taken into another room and hung
up, with others like them, on bars or ropes,
something as he had seen his mother hang
her clothes out to dry after she had washed
them. He then trotted along, though he
began to be a little tired, into another
room, where he saw a great many girls.
Some were folding up the papers, and
some stitching them together, and some
covering them; till in a corner he saw a
large pile of things, and heard a man told
to take them to a bookstore. Jack thought
they must be books. He trotted along
after the man, and saw him carry them in-
to a very nice large room, where there
were many more books of different sizes,
large piles of paper, the things he had seen
the gentleman marking with, and much
else, which he did not know any thing
about. Jack was so pleased that he grew
bold, and stepped up to the gentleman who
was there and told him a little about him-
self, and asked him if he would please to
give him a book. The gentleman asked
Jack if he had any money, as he could not
give him the book without money, because
he had been forced to give money to the
people who had worked so hard to make
the paper, and the types, and print the
book. Jack said this was right, but he
was very sorry, for he wanted a book very
much, and wanted to learn to read, but
that he had nothing except his hatchet,
and he could not give that, because he
should want to chop his motherıs wood.
Then the man asked him if he could chop
wood, and Jack told him he could; so the
gentleman told him if he could cut a little
of his wood up small, that was as good as
money, as he should have to give somebody
money to do it for him. He himself was
very busy selling books, and he could not
stop to cut his own wood small. This
pleased Jack very much, and he stepped
back into the wood-house and began to cut
so smartly that the man soon saw, if he
could not read, he was not an idle boy.

After he had chopped a little while,
the man told him that was enough to pay
for a book; he then handed him out a fine
spelling and reading-book, nicely bound,
and told him he might have that for his
own. The sight of it pleased Jacky so
much that he laughed very loud, and so
heartily that he came very near dropping
his hatchet on his toes. After he had done
laughing, however, he began to look a little
sad, and he said to the gentleman, "If you
could be so kind as to tell me what all
these marks in my new book mean, I
would chop a very large pile of wood for
you." "That I should like to do," said
the bookseller, "if I had time, but as I
have not I will let my lad lead you to a
good lady, who sits all day long in a room,
teaching little boys and girls who do not
know how to read." "Oh, what a nice
lady," said Jack; "let us make haste."

The lad took Jack by the hand and led
him into a school close by. Here he saw
a number of children sitting in their desks
and on benches, some reading to them-
selves, and others aloud to the mistress.
As soon as Jacky entered the room, he
made a bow, and stepped up to the lady,
and told her all about his bean-stalk, and
what he had seen since he had climbed it,
and how he wished very much to know
how to read. The lady saw that he was
a nice bright-looking boy, and said, "Very
well, master Jack, sit down on that bench,
and as soon as I have done hearing little
Billy read his letters I will tell you the
names of yours." Jacky sat very still, and
listened to what she told the other boy, so
that when his turn came he was able to
tell what they called two or three of the
letters, The school-mistress told him he
was a very attentive little boy, and she
thought he would soon learn to read.
After a little while she told the children
that school was done, and Jacky took his
cap and hatchet, and his book, and went
out with the rest. He ran along to the
brink of the pond, then trotted till he found
his bean, and quickly slid down it. He
managed to keep his book by putting it
inside his cap, He found his mother sitting
by her door, knitting, as usual; and as she
knit she sung,--

Fast, fast let my needles fly,
For home comes Jacky by-and-bye.

Jacky ran up to her and showed her his
new book, and told her all he had seen,
and how, if she would let him, he should
like to go to school every day. "But, dear
mother," said he, "I have been up and
down my bean so often, that the stalk is
almost worn out, and I am afraid it will
break down under me some day." "Well,
Jacky," said his mother, "run now and
hang up your hatchet, and eat your supper
and go to bed, and I will think what we
shall do about the matter; for it would
certainly be a pity you should not learn to
read this nice book now you have got it."
Jack minded his mother, and ate his supper
and went to bed; and as he was very tired
he slept soundly. He awoke in the morn-
ing, and when he had eaten his breakfast
his mother told him she had been thinking
all night about what he had told her, and
she had at last concluded to move up into
the village herself, and live there; and
that he would be near to school, and not
have the trouble of climbing the bean-
stalk every day. "But, mother," said Jack,
"I never saw you climb; how will you get
up the bean-stalk?" "I shall not go up
the bean-stalk, my child, said she; "but I
remember the path which your father and
I walked when we first came to this val-
ley, and I shall know the way out again."