The Tale of Mr. Jeremy Fisher

For
Stephanie
from
Cousin B.

A frog sits on a lily-leaf fishing. He’s dressed in a white shirt, braces, white socks and black shoes, one of which is dipping in the water.
The frog is now sitting in front of the front door of a house, reading a newspaper. He’s put a red jacket on, but his right foot is still trailing in a puddle. A damselfly is perching on the top of the door.

Once upon a time there was a frog called Mr. Jeremy Fisher; he lived in a little damp house amongst the buttercups at the edge of a pond.

The water was all slippy-sloppy in the larder and in the back passage.

But Mr. Jeremy liked getting his feet wet; nobody ever scolded him, and he never caught a cold!

Mr. Jeremy walks through his house, holding a blue and white jug and two matching plates. The floor is covered in water, and a snail has climbed the wall.
Mr. Jeremy walks out of the front door of his house. There are tall flowers and plants on either side.

He was quite pleased when he looked out and saw large drops of rain, splashing in the pond⁠—

“I will get some worms and go fishing and catch a dish of minnows for my dinner,” said Mr. Jeremy Fisher. “If I catch more than five fish, I will invite my friends Mr. Alderman Ptolemy Tortoise and Sir Isaac Newton. The Alderman, however, eats salad.”

Mr. Jeremy is digging for fishing bait with a spade. Next to him on the earth is a tin marked “Bait,” and to his right an earthworm is poking out of the ground.
Mr. Jeremy hops across the lily-leaves and flowers, holding his rod in one hand and with a basket slung over his back.

Mr. Jeremy put on a macintosh, and a pair of shiny goloshes; he took his rod and basket, and set off with enormous hops to the place where he kept his boat.

The boat was round and green, and very like the other lily-leaves. It was tied to a water-plant in the middle of the pond.

Mr. Jeremy crouches on a lily-leaf, and unties a rope from a leaf stalk that’s sticking out of the water.
Mr. Jeremy stands on his lily-leaf boat, and pushes his way into open water with a long stalk.

Mr. Jeremy took a reed pole, and pushed the boat out into open water. “I know a good place for minnows,” said Mr. Jeremy Fisher.

Mr. Jeremy stuck his pole into the mud and fastened the boat to it.

Then he settled himself cross-legged and arranged his fishing tackle. He had the dearest little red float. His rod was a tough stalk of grass, his line was a fine long white horsehair, and he tied a little wriggling worm at the end.

Mr. Jeremy sits cross-legged on his lily-leaf and carefully prepares his fishing tackle. In his right hand he’s holding his fishing rod and line, and in his left a red and white float. Next to him is his tin of bait and his basket. Behind him on a worm is making a valiant attempt to escape.
Mr. Jeremy sits on his lily-leaf with his line dangling in the water. The leaf is tied to his stalk that’s stuck in the lake bed. It has started to rain.

The rain trickled down his back, and for nearly an hour he stared at the float.

“This is getting tiresome, I think I should like some lunch,” said Mr. Jeremy Fisher.

He punted back again amongst the water-plants, and took some lunch out of his basket.

“I will eat a butterfly sandwich, and wait till the shower is over,” said Mr. Jeremy Fisher.

Mr. Jeremy sits on his lily-leaf with his legs crossed and his left foot trailing in the water. He is munching a white piece of butterfly wing and looking thoughtful.
A big brown water-beetle has swum up to the bottom of Mr. Jeremy’s lily-leaf. It is holding the end of his shoe between its front legs.

A great big water-beetle came up underneath the lily leaf and tweaked the toe of one of his goloshes.

Mr. Jeremy crossed his legs up shorter, out of reach, and went on eating his sandwich.

Once or twice something moved about with a rustle and a splash amongst the rushes at the side of the pond.

“I trust that is not a rat,” said Mr. Jeremy Fisher; “I think I had better get away from here.”

A water vole swims through the water between the lily-leaves. In the background, another stands among the reeds.
Mr. Jeremy sits on his lily-leaf with his legs crossed. He is staring intently at the float attached to his fishing line, which is sitting in the water in front of him.

Mr. Jeremy shoved the boat out again a little way, and dropped in the bait. There was a bite almost directly; the float gave a tremendous bobbit!

“A minnow! a minnow! I have him by the nose!” cried Mr. Jeremy Fisher, jerking up his rod.

But what a horrible surprise! Instead of a smooth fat minnow, Mr. Jeremy landed little Jack Sharp the stickleback, covered with spines!

Mr. Jeremy stands up and, bracing himself, hauls on his fishing rod. On the end of it he has hooked a fish that is half his size.
Mr. Jeremy falls back onto the lily-leaf. In his lap is a large stickleback with three spines and a red belly.

The stickleback floundered about the boat, pricking and snapping until he was quite out of breath. Then he jumped back into the water.

And a shoal of other little fishes put their heads out, and laughed at Mr. Jeremy Fisher.

Mr. Jeremy sits on his lily-leaf, turned away and looking over his shoulder at the fish behind him who are leaping in and out of the water.
Mr. Jeremy sits on his lily-leaf, with his right leg trailing in the water. From underneath looms the open jaws and eye of a large fish.

And while Mr. Jeremy sat disconsolately on the edge of his boat⁠—sucking his sore fingers and peering down into the water⁠—a much worse thing happened; a really frightful thing it would have been, if Mr. Jeremy had not been wearing a macintosh!

A great big enormous trout came up⁠—ker‑pflop‑p‑p‑p! with a splash⁠—and it seized Mr. Jeremy with a snap, “Ow! Ow! Ow!”⁠—and then it turned and dived down to the bottom of the pond!

The blue and grey dappled trout has grabbed Mr. Jeremy between its teeth, and is diving quickly down into the water.
The upset trout has twisted around to look at the departing Mr. Jeremy as he swims back up to the surface.

But the trout was so displeased with the taste of the macintosh, that in less than half a minute it spat him out again; and the only thing it swallowed was Mr. Jeremy’s goloshes.

Mr. Jeremy bounced up to the surface of the water, like a cork and the bubbles out of a soda water bottle; and he swam with all his might to the edge of the pond.

Mr. Jeremy’s head is just poking out of the water as he swims towards a lily-leaf. Behind him bubbles rise up from the bottom of the water.
Mr. Jeremy climbs out of the water and carefully up the bank. He looks a bit shocked, and is only wearing his white shirt.

He scrambled out on the first bank he came to, and he hopped home across the meadow with his macintosh all in tatters.

“What a mercy that was not a pike!” said Mr. Jeremy Fisher. “I have lost my rod and basket; but it does not much matter, for I am sure I should never have dared to go fishing again!”

Mr. Jeremy hops down the path towards his house, which is just visible in the distance.
Just as a tortoise and a newt in a morning coat arrive at Mr. Jeremy’s house, he appears at the gate fully clothed in his original red jacket and looking happy.

He put some sticking plaster on his fingers, and his friends both came to dinner. He could not offer them fish, but he had something else in his larder.

Sir Isaac Newton wore his black and gold waistcoat,

Sir Isaac Newton stands talking to Mr. Jeremy. He’s wearing a long grey morning coat, unbuttoned to display his waistcoat with dappled black and gold patterns.

And Mr. Alderman Ptolemy Tortoise brought a salad with him in a string bag.

Mr. Alderman Ptolemy Tortoise joins Sir Isaac and Mr. Jeremy’s conversation. He’s carrying a net bag filled with soft lettuce, and is wearing the gold chain that signifies his rank.
All three of the dinner companions sit around a table. Mr. Jeremy is holding a carving knife and fork over a platter on which sits a grasshopper. Mr. Ptolemy and Sir Isaac look slightly worried.

And instead of a nice dish of minnows⁠—they had a roasted grasshopper with ladybird sauce; which frogs consider a beautiful treat; but I think it must have been nasty!