The Tale of Jemima Puddle-Duck by Beatrix Potter

Don't Run without thinking of Where you are Running off to! In this lively edition of The Tale of The Tale of Jemima Puddle-Duck, join Rae Wilson for an energetic reading of Beatrix Potter’s classic story. Perfectly paced for a mid-day break or story time at home, this version is designed to keep listeners entertained.

While parenting styles and social norms have evolved since these fables were first told, the lessons they teach—about kindness, hard work, and honesty—remain as relevant as ever.

Looking to read along with Rae? Read along with Rae on YouTube. 

Music in this episode is created by:

"Frost Waltz (Alternate)" Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com)
Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 4.0 License
http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/

"Carpe Diem" Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com)
Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 4.0 License
http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/

Transcript

SPEAKER_01 0:02

Welcome to Forget Me Not a Fairy Tales. Classic stories for book lovers of all ages. Let's begin. The Tale of Jemima Puddleduck. Written and illustrated by Beatrix Potter. What a funny sight it is to see a brood of ducklings with a hen. Listen to the story of Jemima Puddleduck, who was annoyed because the farmer's wife would not let her hatch her own eggs. Her sister-in-law, Mrs. Rebecca Puddled, was perfectly willing to leave the hatching to someone else. I have not the patience to sit on a nest for 28 days. And no more have you, Jemima. You would let them go cold. You know you would. Quacked Jemima Puddleduck. She tried to hide her eggs, but they were always found and carried off. Jemima Puddleduck 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 it looked like a safe, quiet spot. Jemima Puddle Duck was not much in the habit of flying. She ran downhill a few yards, clapping 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 treetops 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 foxgloves. But, seated upon the stump, she was startled to find an elegantly dressed gentleman reading a newspaper. He had black prick ears and sandy colored whiskers. Quack, said Jemima Puddleduck with her head and her bonnet on one side. Quack. The gentleman raised his eyes above his newspaper and looked curiously at Jemima. Um, 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 the sandy whiskers. He looked curiously at Jemima. He folded up the newspaper and put it in his coattail pocket. Jemima complained of the superflorous pen. Indeed, how interesting. I wish I could have met with that fowl. I would teach it to mind its own business. But as to Aness, there is no difficulty. I have a sack full of feathers in my woodshed. 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 foxclubs. It was built of faggots and turf, and there were two broken tails, 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 nest bull 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 savory omelet? Hmm. Sage, thyme, and mint, and two onions and some parsley. I will provide lard for the stuff. Lard for the omelets, 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, Tep, met her coming out. Hmm, 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 foxhound puppies who were out at walk with the butcher. Jemima Puddled 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 omelet. 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. Someone with a black nose sniffed at the bottom of the door and then locked it. Jemima became much alarmed.

SPEAKER_00 10:34

A moment afterwards, there were most awful noises. Barking, feigning, growls and howls, squealing and groans.

SPEAKER_01 10:46

And nothing more was ever seen of that foxy, whiskered gentleman. Presently, Cap opened the door of the shed and let out Jemima Puddled. 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 Puddleduck was escorted home in tears on account of those eggs. She laid some more in June, and she was permitted to keep them herself. Jemima Puddleduck 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 Puddleduck said that it was because of her nerves, but she had always been a bad sitter. The End I hope you like this story. The Tale of Jemima Puddled. Fairy tales contain many morals. One lesson from this story is think things through before rushing ahead to prove a point. If you don't, you may end up losing more than you realize. Thanks for listening. If you'd like a cosier version of this story, become a member.