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The Tale Of Jemima Puddle-Duck A Farmyard Tale
By Helen Beatrix Potter
For Ralph And Betsy
WHAT a funny sight it is
to see a brood of
ducklings with a hen!
--Listen to the story of
Jemima Puddle-duck, who was
annoyed because the farmer's
wife would not let her hatch
her own eggs.
HER sister-in-law, Mrs.
Rebeccah Puddle-duck,
was perfectly willing to leave
the hatching to some one else
--"I have not the patience to
sit on a nest for twenty-eight
days; and no more have you,
Jemima. You would let them
go cold; you know you would!"
"I wish to hatch my own
eggs; I will hatch them all
by myself," quacked Jemima
Puddle-duck.
SHE tried to hide her eggs;
but they were always found
and carried off.
Jemima Puddle-duck
became quite desperate. She
determined to make a nest
right away from the farm.
SHE set off on a fine spring
afternoon along the cart-
road that leads over the hill.
She was wearing a shawl
and a poke bonnet.
WHEN she reached the top
of the hill, she saw a
wood in the distance.
She thought that it looked
a safe quiet spot.
JEMIMA PUDDLE-DUCK
was not much in the habit
of flying. She ran downhill a
few yards flapping her shawl,
and then she jumped off into
the air.
SHE flew beautifully when
she had got a good start.
She skimmed along over the
tree-tops until she saw an open
place in the middle of the wood,
where the trees and brushwood
had been cleared.
JEMIMA alighted rather
heavily, and began to
waddle about in search of a
convenient dry nesting-place.
She rather fancied a tree-stump
amongst some tall fox-gloves.
But--seated upon the stump,
she was startled to find an
elegantly dressed gentleman
reading a newspaper.
He had black prick ears and
sandy coloured whiskers.
"Quack?" said Jemima
Puddle-duck, with her head
and her bonnet on one side--
"Quack?"
THE gentleman raised his
eyes above his newspaper
and looked curiously at
Jemima--
"Madam, have you lost your
way?" said he. He had a long
bushy tail which he was sitting
upon, as the stump was somewhat
damp.
Jemima thought him mighty
civil and handsome. She
explained that she had not
lost her way, but that she was
trying to find a convenient
dry nesting-place.
"AH! is that so? indeed!" said
the gentleman with sandy
whiskers, looking curiously at
Jemima. He folded up the
newspaper, and put it in his
coat-tail pocket.
Jemima complained of the
superfluous hen.
"Indeed! how interesting!
I wish I could meet with that
fowl. I would teach it to mind
its own business!"
"BUT as to a nest--there is
no difficulty: I have a
sackful of feathers in my wood-
shed. No, my dear madam,
you will be in nobody's way.
You may sit there as long as
you like," said the bushy long-
tailed gentleman.
He led the way to a very
retired, dismal-looking house
amongst the fox-gloves.
It was built of faggots and
turf, and there were two broken
pails, one on top of another,
by way of a chimney.
"THIS is my summer
residence; you would not
find my earth--my winter
house--so convenient," said
the hospitable gentleman.
There was a tumble-down
shed at the back of the house,
made of old soap-boxes. The
gentleman opened the door,
and showed Jemima in.
THE shed was almost quite
full of feathers--it was
almost suffocating; but it was
comfortable and very soft.
Jemima Puddle-duck was
rather surprised to find such a
vast quantity of feathers. But
it was very comfortable; and
she made a nest without any
trouble at all.
WHEN she came out, the
sandy whiskered gentleman
was sitting on a log
reading the newspaper--at
least he had it spread out, but
he was looking over the top
of it.
He was so polite, that he
seemed almost sorry to let
Jemima go home for the night.
He promised to take great care
of her nest until she came back
again next day.
He said he loved eggs and
ducklings; he should be proud
to see a fine nestful in his
wood-shed.
JEMIMA PUDDLE-DUCK
came every afternoon; she
laid nine eggs in the nest.
They were greeny white and
very large. The foxy gentleman
admired them immensely.
He used to turn them over
and count them when Jemima
was not there.
At last Jemima told him
that she intended to begin to
sit next day--"and I will bring
a bag of corn with me, so that
I need never leave my nest
until the eggs are hatched.
They might catch cold," said
the conscientious Jemima.
"MADAM, I beg you not
to trouble yourself with
a bag; I will provide oats.
But before you commence your
tedious sitting, I intend to give
you a treat. Let us have a
dinner-party all to ourselves!
"May I ask you to bring up
some herbs from the farm-
garden to make a savoury
omelette? Sage and thyme,
and mint and two onions, and
some parsley. I will provide
lard for the stuff-lard for the
omelette," said the hospitable
gentleman with sandy whiskers.
JEMIMA PUDDLE-DUCK
was a simpleton: not even
the mention of sage and onions
made her suspicious.
She went round the farm-
garden, nibbling off snippets
of all the different sorts of
herbs that are used for stuffing
roast duck.
AND she waddled into the
kitchen, and got two
onions out of a basket.
The collie-dog Kep met her
coming out, "What are you
doing with those onions?
Where do you go every afternoon
by yourself, Jemima
Puddle-duck?"
Jemima was rather in awe
of the collie; she told him the
whole story.
The collie listened, with his
wise head on one side; he
grinned when she described
the polite gentleman with
sandy whiskers.
HE asked several questions
about the wood, and
about the exact position of the
house and shed.
Then he went out, and
trotted down the village. He
went to look for two fox-hound
puppies who were out at walk
with the butcher.
JEMIMA PUDDLE-DUCK
went up the cart-road for
the last time, on a sunny afternoon.
She was rather burdened
with bunches of herbs
and two onions in a bag.
She flew over the wood, and
alighted opposite the house of
the bushy long-tailed gentleman.
HE was sitting on a log;
he sniffed the air, and
kept glancing uneasily round
the wood. When Jemima
alighted he quite jumped.
"Come into the house as
soon as you have looked at
your eggs. Give me the herbs
for the omelette. Be sharp!"
He was rather abrupt.
Jemima Puddle-duck had
never heard him speak like
that.
She felt surprised, and
uncomfortable.
WHILE she was inside she
heard pattering feet
round the back of the shed.
Some one with a black nose
sniffed at the bottom of the
door, and then locked it.
Jemima became much
alarmed.
A MOMENT afterwards
there were most awful
noises--barking, baying,
growls and howls, squealing
and groans.
And nothing more was ever
seen of that foxy-whiskered
gentleman.
PRESENTLY Kep opened
the door of the shed, and
let out Jemima Puddle-duck.
Unfortunately the puppies
rushed in and gobbled up all
the eggs before he could stop
them.
He had a bite on his ear
and both the puppies were
limping.
JEMIMA PUDDLE-DUCK
was escorted home in tears
on account of those eggs.
SHE laid some more in June,
and she was permitted to
keep them herself: but only
four of them hatched.
Jemima Puddle-duck said
that it was because of her
nerves; but she had always
been a bad sitter.
THE END
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