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 mackintosh!

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 mackintosh, that in less than half a minute it spat him out again; and the only thing it swallowed was Mr. Jeremy’s galoshes.

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 mackintosh 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!

THE STORY OF A FIERCE BAD RABBIT

This is a fierce bad Rabbit; look at his savage whiskers and his claws and his turned-up tail.

This is a nice gentle Rabbit.  His mother has given him a carrot.

The bad Rabbit would like some carrot.

He doesn’t say “Please.”  He takes it!

And he scratches the good Rabbit very badly.

The good Rabbit creeps away and hides in a hole.  It feels sad.

This is a man with a gun.

He sees something sitting on a bench.  He thinks it is a very funny bird!

He comes creeping up behind the trees.

And then he shoots—­bang!

This is what happens—­

But this is all he finds on the bench when he rushes up with his gun.

The good Rabbit peeps out of its
hole . . .

. . . and it sees the bad Rabbit tearing past—­without any tail or whiskers!

THE STORY OF MISS MOPPET