THE KING OF THE FEN (Adapted)

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“I will be King of the Fen!” said Croaker the Frog, leaping out of the brook upon the dry land.

“You King, indeed!” said Slyboots, a fine, fat Field Mouse with a long tail and bright eyes, jumping out of his hole at the foot of a hazel bush which grew near. “I am larger than you, and I will be King, and the frogs shall be my subjects and cut rushes and bring me dry moss to line my nest.” And Slyboots strutted about and gave himself a great many airs.

Frog and the mouse

“I will never consent to be ruled by a Mouse,” replied the Frog with a disdainful air. “How finely King Slyboots would sound!”

“Quite as well as King Croaker!” retorted the Mouse.

Then the Frog flew into a great passion and hopped so high and croaked so loud that the Mouse crept a little farther from him (for frogs, like children, look very ugly when they are out of temper); and Slyboots did not much like the idea of being touched by his cold paws, and he said to himself: “In spite of this Frog’s looking so fierce and talking so loud I should not wonder if he were a coward at heart.”

So he turned to the Frog and said: “As we both wish to be King of the Fen I know of no way of ending the dispute but by fighting, and the one that wins the fight shall be King over the other.”

Then the Frog said: “Very well! We will each bring a friend to see fair play. To-morrow at twelve o’clock I shall be ready to take the field; and if you fail to meet me here I shall be King of the Fen, and the mice shall be my servants.” For Croaker thought Slyboots was braver in word than in deed, as cowards are often the foremost to talk of fighting.

Then the Frog retired among the bulrushes and the Mouse ran home to his hole under the nut tree.

The two rivals awoke next morning by break of day to prepare for the combat, which was to take place at noon. The Frog was very much afraid of Slyboots’s sharp teeth and claws, so he fell to work and made a shield from the bark of an old willow tree, and then he plucked a long bulrush for a spear. “Now,” said he, “I am well armed: I have a shield to defend myself and a spear to attack the enemy with. If I had but a brave friend to be my second in the fight I should do very well.”

“I will be your second,” said a great Pike, raising his head above the water; “I will lie close to the bank among these rushes, and if you break your spear come to me and I will procure you another.”

The Frog was well pleased at this offer. “I shall beat Slyboots in a little time,” said he, “with such weapons and so good a friend.”

Slyboots in the meantime was not idle; he sharpened his teeth and his claws and chose a light twig from the hazel bush and said: “I only want now a friend to be my second and see fair play.” A great Hawk, which was hovering near, said: “Mr. Slyboots, you may command my services at any hour you please to name.”

Now Slyboots was somewhat afraid of the Hawk, for he thought he had rather a hungry look about the eyes and beak, but he dared not refuse his offer lest he should give offence; so he thanked him for his kindness, and at the appointed hour they went to the spot where the Frog was waiting for them. The Pike lay in the hole among the rushes and the Hawk sat on the bough of a tree close by.

frog and mouse battling
“THE BATTLE WAS LONG AND FIERCE ON BOTH SIDES.”

The Frog and the Mouse looked at one another for a few minutes and shook their weapons. At last the Hawk and the Pike gave signal for the fight to begin. The battle was long and fierce on both sides, and for some time it was doubtful which would win. At last the Frog seemed to gain ground, but at the very minute that he seemed to be winning his spear broke in pieces.

“Alas!” croaked he in a tone of dismay, “what shall I do? Who will give me another weapon?”

“Here is one,” cried his friend, the Pike, from among the rushes.

The Frog gave a leap of joy and sprang toward the Pike, who, opening his mouth, quickly put an end to the battle by swallowing the hapless Frog at one mouthful.

“I am King of the Fen now!” cried Slyboots with a joyful squeak. “Long live your Majesty!” exclaimed the crafty Hawk. As he spoke he darted from the tree and, pouncing upon the new monarch, bore him away in his claws and put an end to his reign and his life at the same moment.


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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