"...there was a pit pat, paddle pat! and the three Puddle-ducks came along the hard high road..."
That would be a wonderful opening sentence for "The Tale of Jemima Puddle-Duck" - but it's actually from Beatrix Potter's previous book. In "The Tale of Tom Kitten," the three ducks try on the fine clothing that had earlier been foisted on some kittens by their mother. Then they waddle off with them, establishing an important principle: that ducks have a short attention span. "The Tale of Jemima Puddle-Duck" seems to pick up where that book left off...
There's beautiful watercolor illustrations of the farm where the ducks live, and according to Wikipedia those illustrations were based on Beatrix Potter's own farm in the English village of Sawrey. Both her barn and her porch appear in the backgrounds, and in one picture Potter even draws in the real-life children of her farm's manager, John Cannon. It was Mrs. Cannon who'd believed that ducks were bad at hatching their own eggs, and always transported them for warming in the nest of a hen. That's apparently what inspired this story, since Jemima Puddle-duck is annoyed that the farmer's wife won't let her hatch her own eggs!
Her sister-in-law, Rebeccah Puddle-duck, was "perfectly willing" to leave hatching duties to another bird, since she didn't have the patience to sit for 28 days. But Jemima has a different opinion, notes Potter sympathetically. "She tried to hide her eggs; but they were always found and carried off." Jemima ultimately decides to build a nest further away from the farm.
Jemima sets off wearing a shawl and a bonnet, until she spots a quiet spot in the woods. And then she runs and jumps down a hill, until she's flying over the treetops. It's an especially fun moment, because Potter's characters are so human, it's almost surprising to be reminded that her ducks can still fly! Unfortunately, once she's in the woods, Jemima Puddle-duck meets "an elegantly dressed gentleman...with sandy whiskers" who looks suspiciously like a fox in a waistcoat.
The fox offers to let her nest in a sackful of feathers in his woodshed, promising "you will be in nobody's way." The duck nestles into the enormous pile of feathers - never stopping to consider where all those feathers have come from. And the fox promises he'll take good care of her nest, since "he loved eggs and ducklings..." Potter is an excellent story-teller, noting that Jemima came back to the nest every afternoon, eventually laying nine greeny white eggs that were very large.
Before she settles in for 28 days of hatching, the fox invites the duck over for a dinner party. She sends her to the garden to harvest some herbs (which, coincidentally, are also useful for stuffing a roast duck). Potter drops enough hints that soon even the youngest readers should realize that the duck is headed for trouble. But fortunately, she explains her situation to a friendly neighborhood collie....
There's still a couple gruesome details. Jemima Puddle-duck only hears the fox being confronted by the collie and two foxhound puppies - but the collie returns with a bite on his ear, while both of the puppies are limping. And this scene has one of the book's most surprising sentences, that reminds the readers that we're still dealing with farm animals. After the collie opens the door to where Jemima Puddle-duck had been nesting, "the puppies rushed in and gobbled up all the eggs before he could stop them." The book's second-to-last page show Jemima Puddle-duck, returning home to the farm in tears.
But she eventually hatches more ducklings the next June, though only four of them hatched because, as Potter admits honestly, "she had always been a bad sitter." But besides the funny ending, fans of Beatrix Potter know that this book holds a special significance. According to Wikipedia, two years before her death, at the age of 75, Beatrix Potter referred a visitor to the illustration of Jemima Puddle-duck rushing down a hill with her bonnet and shawl fluttering in behind her. "That is what I used to look like to the Sawrey people," she said fondly.
"I rushed about, quacking industriously..."