Monday, December 27, 2010

'Jack and the Beanstalk' by Roald Dahl.

This poem is Roald Dahl’s version of ‘Jack and the Beanstalk.’

Jack’s mother said, “We’re stony broke!
Go out and find some wealthy bloke
Who’ll buy our cow, just say she’s sound
And worth at least a hundred pound.
But don’t you dare to let him know
That she’s as old as billy-o.”
Jack led the old brown cow away,
And came back later in the day,
And said, “Oh mumsie dear, guess what
Your clever little boy has got.
I got, I really don’t know how,
A super trade-in for our cow.”
The mother said, “You little creep,
I’ll bet you sold her much too cheap.”
When Jack produced one lousy beam,
His started mother, turning green,
Leaped up high in the air and cried,
“I’m absolutely stupefied!
You crazy boy! D’you really mean
You sold our daisy for a bean?”
She snatched the bean. She yelled, “You chump!”
And flung it on the rubbish dump.
Then summoning up all her power,
She beat the boy for half an hour,
Using (and nothing could be meaner)
The handle of a vacuum cleaner.
At ten p.m. or thereabout,
The little bean began to sprout.
By morning it had grown so tall
You couldn’t see the top at all.
Young Jack cried, “Mum, admit it now!
It’s better than a rotten cow!”
The mother said, “You lunatic!
Where are the beans I can pick?
There’s not one bean! It’s bare as bare!”
“No no!” cried jack. “You look up there!
Look very high and you’ll behold
Each single leaf is solid gold!”
By gollikins, the boy was right!
Now glistening in the morning light,
The mother actually perceives
A mass of lovely golden leaves!
She yells out loud, “My sainted souls!
I’ll sell the Mini, buy a Rolls!
Don’t stand and gape, you little clot!
Get up there quick and grab the lot!”
Jack was nimble, Jack was keen.
He scrambled up the mighty bean.
Up up he went without a stop,
But just as he was near the top,
A ghastly frightening thing occurred-
Not far above his head he heard
A big deep voice, a rumbling thing
That made the very heavens ring.
It shouted loud, “FE FI FO FUM
Jack was frightened, Jack was quick,
And down he climbed in half a tick.
“Oh Mum!” he gasped. “Believe you me
There’s something nasty up our tree!
I saw him, Mum! My gizzard froze!
A Giant with a clever nose!”
“A clever nose!” his mother hissed.
“You must be going round the twist!”
“He smelled me out, I swear it, Mum!
He said he smelled an Englishman!”
The mother said, “And well he might
I’ve told you every single night
To take a bath because you smell,
But would you do it! Would you hell!
You even make your mother shrink
Because of your unholy stink!”
Jack answered, “Well, if you’re so clean
Why don’t you climb the crazy bean.”
The mother cried, “By Jove, I will!
There’s life within the old dog still!”
She hitched her skirts above the knee
And disappeared right up the tree.
Now would the Giant smell his mum?
Jack listened for the fee-fo-fum.
He gazed aloft. He wondered when
The dreaded words would come… And then…
From somewhere high above the ground
There came a frightful crunching sound.
Jack heard the Giant mutter twice,
“By gosh, that tasted very nice.
Although” (and this in grumpy tones)
“I wish there weren’t so many bones.”
“By Christopher!” Jack cried. “By gum!
The Giant’s eaten up my mum!
He smelled her out! She’s in his belly!
I had a hunch that she was smelly.”
Jack stood there gazing longingly
Upon the huge and golden tree.
He murmured softly, “Golly-gosh,
I guess I’ll have to take a wash
If I am going to climb this tree,
Without the Giant smelling me.
In fact, a bath’s my only hope…”
He rushed indoors and grabbed the soap
He scrubbed his body everywhere.
He even washed and rinsed his hair.
He did his teeth, he blew his nose
And went out smelling like a rose.
Once more he climbed the mighty bean.
The Giant sat there, gross, obscene,
Muttering through his vicious teeth
(While Jack sat tensely just beneath)
Muttering loud, “FEE FI FO FUM,
Jack waited till the Giant slept,
Then out along the boughs he crept
And gathered so much gold, I swear
He was an instant millionaire.
“A bath,” he said, “does seem to pay.
I’m going to have one every day.”

Sadly, I could't get any of the illustrations from the Internet. I hope you had a good laugh.

Friday, December 10, 2010

Roald Dahl, A writer of childrens books.

 Roald Dahl was born in 1916 in Llandaff, South Wales. His parents were Norwegian, but lived in Britain. His parents were Harold and Sofie Dahl. His father died shortly after his one sister, Astri, when Roald was only three. He went to school at Llandaff Cathedral School for two years only, and then his mother sent him to St. Peters School.

  It was during this time that Roald had the car accident. After his first year at St. Peters School, during the December holidays, his family bought a motor-car (as it was referred to then) which his ancient half-sister would drive. During the drive, they had an accident, and Roald’s nose was cut almost right off his face. The doctor sewed it on again, though.
  Roald Dahl went to high school at Repton High School. Here he was good at games and he took up photography. After school he went on an exploring trip to Newfoundland. After this, he got a job in the Shell Oil Company which sent him to Africa. During this adventure, in 1939, World War II broke out, and Roald went to Nairobi to join the RAF. While in the Air Force, he got shot down and was rescued by six soldiers.
  Later in his life, Roald began his career writing for adults, but then became interested in writing children’s books by making up bedtimes stories for his daughters. His first children’s novel was James and the Giant peach, published in 1961.His other books include: Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator, Matilda, The Twits, The Enormous Crocodile, Danny the Champion of the World, The Witches, George’s Marvelous Medicine, The Magic Finger, The BFG, Fantastic Mr. Fox, Esio Trot, The Giraffe and the Pelly and Me, The Wonderful story of Henry Sugar, Revolting Rhymes, Dirty Beasts, The Minpins, Rhyme Stew, and the three books about his life, Boy, Going Solo and My Year. The books Dirty Beasts and Revolting Rhymes are made up of rhymes. He took a lot of stories and rewrote them in a humorous way, but he also changes the story a bit.
  We like his books, and have read most of them. I will post one of his poems soon.
  Here is a photo of him.