Listen to the story of Jemima Puddle-duck, who was annoyed because the farmer's wife would not let her hatch her own eggs.
Her sister-in-law, Mrs. Rebeccah Puddle-duck, was perfectly1 willing to leave the hatching to someone else— "I have not the patience to sit on a nest for twenty-eight days; and no more have you, Jemima. You would let them go cold; you know you would!"
She tried to hide her eggs; but they were always found and carried off.
Jemima Puddle-duck became quite desperate. She determined4 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.
When she reached the top of the hill, she saw a wood in the distance.
She thought that it looked a safe quiet spot.
Jemima Puddle-duck was not much in the habit of flying. She ran downhill a few yards flapping 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 waddle7 about in search of a convenient dry nesting place. She rather fancied a tree stump8 amongst some tall foxgloves.
But—seated upon the stump, she was startled to find an elegantly dressed gentleman reading a newspaper. He had black prick9 ears and sandy colored whiskers.
"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 mighty11 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 sandy whiskers, looking curiously at Jemima. He folded up the newspaper and put it in his coattail pocket.
Jemima complained of the superfluous12 hen.
"Indeed! How interesting! I wish I could meet with that fowl13. I would teach it to mind its own business!
"But as to a nest—there is no difficulty: I have a sackful 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.
It was built of faggots and turf, and there were two broken pails, 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 hospitable15 gentleman.
There was a tumbledown 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 suffocating16; 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 the next day.
He said he loved eggs and ducklings; he should be proud to see a fine nestful in his woodshed.
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 conscientious17 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 savory18 omelet? Sage19 and thyme, and mint and two onions, and some parsley. I will provide lard for the stuff—lard for the omelet," 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, nibbling20 off snippets of all the different sorts of herbs that are used for stuffing roast duck.
The collie dog Kep met her coming out, "What are you doing with those onions? Where do you go every afternoon by yourself, Jemima Puddle-duck?"
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 trotted23 down the village. He went to look for two foxhound puppies who were out at walk with the butcher.
Jemima Puddle-duck 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 sniffed24 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!"
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 them locked it.
Jemima became much alarmed.
A moment afterward26 there were most awful noises—barking, baying, growls27 and howls, squealing28 and groans29.
And nothing more was ever seen of that foxy-whiskered gentleman.
Presently Kep opened the door of the shed and let out Jemima Puddle- duck.
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 Puddle-duck 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 Puddle-duck said that it was because of her nerves; but she had always been a bad sitter.
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收听单词发音
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1
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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2
quack
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| n.庸医；江湖医生；冒充内行的人；骗子 | |
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3
quacked
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| v.（鸭子）发出嘎嘎声( quack的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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4
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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5
poke
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| n.刺，戳，袋；vt.拨开，刺，戳；vi.戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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6
bonnet
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| n.无边女帽；童帽 | |
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7
waddle
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| vi.摇摆地走；n.摇摆的走路(样子) | |
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8
stump
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| n.残株，烟蒂，讲演台；v.砍断，蹒跚而走 | |
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9
prick
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| v.刺伤，刺痛，刺孔；n.刺伤，刺痛 | |
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10
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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11
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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12
superfluous
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| adj.过多的，过剩的，多余的 | |
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13
fowl
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| n.家禽，鸡，禽肉 | |
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14
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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15
hospitable
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| adj.好客的；宽容的；有利的，适宜的 | |
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16
suffocating
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| a.使人窒息的 | |
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17
conscientious
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| adj.审慎正直的，认真的，本着良心的 | |
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18
savory
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| adj.风味极佳的，可口的，味香的 | |
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19
sage
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| n.圣人，哲人；adj.贤明的，明智的 | |
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20
nibbling
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| v.啃，一点一点地咬（吃）( nibble的现在分词 )；啃出（洞），一点一点咬出（洞）；慢慢减少；小口咬 | |
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21
waddled
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| v.（像鸭子一样）摇摇摆摆地走( waddle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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22
awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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23
trotted
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| 小跑，急走( trot的过去分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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24
sniffed
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| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的过去式和过去分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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25
abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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26
afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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27
growls
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的第三人称单数 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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28
squealing
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| v.长声尖叫，用长而尖锐的声音说( squeal的现在分词 ) | |
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29
groans
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| n.呻吟，叹息( groan的名词复数 )；呻吟般的声音v.呻吟( groan的第三人称单数 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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