One fine sunny morning, the minister took a walk in the local forest. He had been walking by the small stream when he noticed a sad, sad looking frog sitting on a toadstool.
“What’s wrong with you?” said the minister.
“Well,” said the frog, “the reason I am so sad on this fine day is because I wasn’t always a frog.”
“Really!” said the minister. “Can you explain!”
“Once upon a time I was an 11 year old Choir boy at the local church. I too was walking through this forest when I was confronted by the wicked witch of the forest. ‘Let me pass!’ I yelled, but to no avail. She called me a cheeky little boy and with a flash of her wand, turned me into this frog you see before you.”
“That’s an incredible story” said the minister. “Is there no way of reversing this spell that the witch has cast upon you?”
“Yes” said the frog, “It is said, that if a nice kind person would pick me up, take me home, give me food and warmth and with a good night’s sleep I would wake up a boy once again.”
“Today’s your lucky day!” said the minister, and he picked up the frog and took him home, gave him lots of food, placed him by the fire and at bedtime put the frog on the pillow beside him.
When the minister awoke, he saw the 11-year-old Choirboy next to him in bed.
“And that your Honour is our case for the Defence. . .”
“What’s wrong with you?” said the minister.
“Well,” said the frog, “the reason I am so sad on this fine day is because I wasn’t always a frog.”
“Really!” said the minister. “Can you explain!”
“Once upon a time I was an 11 year old Choir boy at the local church. I too was walking through this forest when I was confronted by the wicked witch of the forest. ‘Let me pass!’ I yelled, but to no avail. She called me a cheeky little boy and with a flash of her wand, turned me into this frog you see before you.”
“That’s an incredible story” said the minister. “Is there no way of reversing this spell that the witch has cast upon you?”
“Yes” said the frog, “It is said, that if a nice kind person would pick me up, take me home, give me food and warmth and with a good night’s sleep I would wake up a boy once again.”
“Today’s your lucky day!” said the minister, and he picked up the frog and took him home, gave him lots of food, placed him by the fire and at bedtime put the frog on the pillow beside him.
When the minister awoke, he saw the 11-year-old Choirboy next to him in bed.
“And that your Honour is our case for the Defence. . .”
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