The Tale of Jemima Puddle-Duck

Quick Answer

Why This Story Works for Bedtime

It’s suspenseful but ultimately safe. The language is cozy, and the ending reassures: Jemima is protected. Great for bedtime talks about listening and safety with strangers.

Story Synopsis

Jemima Puddle‑Duck is tired of having her eggs taken away, so she decides to find a quiet place and hatch them herself. She waddles off in search of a secret nest, feeling proud and independent. Along the way she meets a charming, well‑mannered gentleman—who is, in fact, a fox. The fox flatters Jemima and suggests a comfortable place for her to sit on her eggs. Jemima, hopeful and not very suspicious, follows his advice. The fox collects herbs and onions, preparing for a ‘dinner’ Jemima doesn’t understand. Meanwhile, a keen farm dog senses something wrong. In time, the dog rushes in, the fox flees, and Jemima is rescued. Jemima’s eggs don’t survive the ordeal, and the story ends with a tender mix of comfort and lesson: independence is good, but safety and good guidance matter too. It’s a gentle, cozy cautionary tale with a safe resolution.

Story Excerpt

What a funny sight it is to see a brood of ducklings with a hen! Listen to the story of Jemima Puddle-duck, who felt very cross because the farmer’s wife would not let her hatch her own eggs. At the farm, Jemima lived among many busy birds. Her sister-in-law, Mrs. Rebeccah Puddle-duck, did not mind at all if someone else did the hatching. “I have not the patience to sit on a nest for twenty-eight days,” said Mrs. Rebeccah. “And no more have you, Jemima. You would let them go cold; you know you would!” But Jemima lifted her bill and quacked firmly, “I wish to hatch my own eggs; I will hatch them all by myself.” She tried to hide her eggs. She tucked them behind barrels, and under straw, and in corners that seemed quite secret. But every time, the eggs were found and carried away. Jemima grew more and more upset. At last she decided she would make a nest far away from the farm, where no one would bother her. So one fine spring afternoon she set off along the cart-road that led over the hill. She wore a shawl around her shoulders and a poke bonnet on her head, and she tried to look as if she had a perfectly sensible errand.

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