giant Ennui, who ravages our country,
you would be as great a hero in our set as St. George of England was in
his."

Jack laughed. "Let him but get in the way of my car," said he, "and I'll
knock him into the middle of next month."

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
mass 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 passion 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 e