THE
TALE
OF
MR.
JEREMY
FISHER
BY
BEATRIX
POTTER
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!
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
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
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
horse-hair,
and
he
tied
a
little
wriggling
worm
at
the
end.
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.
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."
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!
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.
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!
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.
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!"
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,
And
Mr.
Alderman
Ptolemy
Tortoise
brought
a
salad
with
him
in
a
string
bag.
And
instead
of
a
nice
dish
of
minnows
they
had
a
roasted
grasshopper
with
lady-bird
sauce;
which
frogs
consider
a
beautiful
treat;
but
I
think
it
must
have
been
nasty!
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