The rain was pouring down， and the ducks quacked with joy.
“It is a grand mourning，” said Mrs Quack to Mrs Webby-feet. “I am going to the pond in the meadow. Such a fine family of frogs live there. They will make a splendid feast.”
“I am going too！” quacked Mrs Webby-feet. “I knew they were there before you！”
Now kindly Mrs Brown Hen had been standing near by listening. While they were quarrelling， off she went to the meadow， and there， on the banks of the pond， stood the fat， green frogs， croaking.
“I have come to tell you that Mrs Quack and Mrs Webby-feet are quarrelling about you， and they are coming to eat you，” said Mrs Brown Hen. “I know a little pond three fields away， near the river. You could make a home there. The ducks never go near it.”
The frogs trembled. Mrs Croaker said：
“It would be such a long， long way to jump. Our children could not jump so far.”
But clever Mrs Brown Hen said：
“You see this great wide leaf lying here？ All of you climb on to it. I will pull you all the way. I want to save your lives.”
Just then， fierce quackings were heard. All the frogs scrambled quickly on to the leaf， and Mrs Brown He took the stem in her beak， and began to run.
And they were just nearing the hole in the hedge when they spied the ducks. But the kind hen gave a pull， and they were safely through into the next field， out of sight.
The frogs had now got over their fear， and were enjoying the ride. Over another field they went， and then they were in a large one， which sloped down to the river. When they came to a tiny pond， Mrs Hen stopped.
All the frogs hopped off the leaf.
“Here we are！” she cried. “No ducks will bother you now！”
“You have been very kind，” said Mr Croaker. “You have saved our lives.”
“I shall often come on a visit，” answered the fluffy hen. And she did！