The Frog Princess
Authors: E. D. Baker
Tags: #Fiction, #Frogs, #Humorous Fiction, #Fairy Tales
PRAISE FOR
THE
FROG
PRINCESS
"An amusing fairy-tale adventure that takes the frog-turned-prince story a Little further."
—SCHOOL LIBRARY JOURNAL
"Adventures abound when the frog prince and, princess hop their way through the swamp."
—VOYA
"Comical scenes and witty dialogue."
—OHIO LIBRARY MEDIA CONNECTION
"Not only is this a clever and amusing twist on the
old story, it's well-told, energetic and lively.
Emma's headstrong and independent and occasionally
quarrelsome,... and Eadric's the perfect foil for her
attitude and stubbornness. Together, they're an
entertaining pair on a bizarre quest."
—CHRONICLE magazine
Books by E.D. Baker
THE TALES OF THE FROG PRINCESS:
THE FROG PRINCESS
DRAGON'S BREATH
ONCE UPON A CURSE
NO PLACE FOR MAGIC
THE SALAMANDER SPELL
THE
FROG
Princess
Book One in
the Tales of the Frog Princess
E. D. BAKER
Copyright © 2002 by E. D. Baker
First published by Bloomsbury U.S.A. Children's Books in 2002
Paperback edition published in 2004
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used
or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written
permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief
quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Published by Bloomsbury U.S.A. Children's Books
175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010
Distributed to the trade by Holtzbrinck Publishers
The Library of Congress has cataloged the hardcover edition
as follows:
Baker, E. D.
The frog princess / E. D. Baker,
p. cm.
Summary: After reluctantly kissing a frog, an awkward,
fourteen-year-old princess suddenly finds herself a frog, too,
and sets off with the prince to seek the means—and
the self-confidence—to become human again.
eISBN: 978-1-59990-398-9
[1. Fairy tales. 2. Frogs—Fiction. 3. Princesses—Fiction.
4. Princes—Fiction. 5. Witches—Fiction. 6. Humorous stories.] I. Title.
PZ8.B173Fr2oo2 [Fic]—dc21 2002074506
Typeset, by Dorchester Typesetting Group Ltd.
Printed in the U.S.A. by Quebecor World Fairfield
12 14 16 18 20 19 17 15 13
All papers used by Bloomsbury U.S.A. are natural, recyclable
products made from wood grown in well-managed forests. The
manufacturing processes conform to the environmental regulations
of the country of origin.
This book is dedicated to Ellie, Kimmy, and Nate
for their encouragement and support.
I would also like to thank Victoria Wells Arms,
Nancy Denton, and Rebecca Gardner
for their comments and suggestions.
Contents
E
ven as a little girl, I had thought that the swamp was a magical place where new lives began and old ones ended, where enemies and heroes weren't always what one expected, and where anything could happen, even to a clumsy princess. Although I'd believed this for most of my life, I had no proof until Prince Jorge came to visit and I met the frog of my dreams.
I had gone to the swamp to avoid the prince, a favorite of my mother's but never of mine. My escape hadn't been planned, yet the moment I heard that Jorge was coming, I knew I couldn't stay. Normally, few people in the castle ever seemed to notice me, so it was easy to sneak away undetected and flee to the swamp. It was only after I was secure in my escape that I began to worry about how my mother would react. I could almost see the disdain in her eyes as she gave me her usual speech about the proper behavior of a princess. Although I saw her as infrequently as we both could manage, I'd long since grown accustomed to that look.
Thinking more about my mother than I was about my surroundings, I almost stepped on a snake that had slithered onto the path from the tall grass. I shrieked and jumped back, catching my heel on the root of an old willow tree. With my arms flung wide, I tried to keep my balance, but my long, heavy skirts and usual clumsiness overwhelmed me and I landed hard on the rain-soaked earth. Grasshoppers exploded up from the ground as I floundered about, struggling to get to my feet, my gown soaking in the pungent odor of the swamp. Unfortunately, being born a princess doesn't automatically make a girl graceful or confident, a fact I've lamented for most of my fourteen years.
When I'd finally gathered my skirts and pushed myself off the ground, the snake had disappeared into the tall swamp grass. I edged away, searching for something that I could use to defend myself should the snake reappear.
"Thanks a lot!" said a throaty voice.
I looked around, but there was no one in sight. "Who said that?" I asked. Aside from my aunt Grassina, I was the only one from the castle who ever visited the swamp.
"It's me, over here. You aren't very observant, are you?"
I turned toward the voice and looked high and low, but all I could see was the pond, its murky water partially rimmed with a halo of algae, and a stand of cattails at the far end. Aside from the dragonflies, mosquitoes, and water striders, the only other living creature was a frog glaring at me from the edge of the pond. I jumped when he spoke again, although it wasn't so much his words that surprised me as seeing his lips move. I'm used to magic, for my aunt Grassina is a witch, but no animal had ever spoken to me before.
"I was going to eat those grasshoppers for lunch, but because of you I'll never catch them now!" The frog scowled, shaking his webbed finger in my direction. "A big, galumphing girl like you should be more careful where she puts her feet!"
"I'm sorry," I said, offended. "I didn't mean to. It was an accident."
"Hah!" said the frog. "Apologies won't bring back my lunch! But then, it wouldn't matter to you, would it? I bet you've never gone hungry a day in your life!"
The frog annoyed me. It was enough that I had to watch my tongue around my mother. I wasn't about to do it around a frog as well. "For your information," I said, frowning at the little creature, "I haven't eaten a thing all day. My mother invited Prince Jorge to visit and I left home before he arrived. I couldn't bear the thought of spending an entire day with him."
"What is wrong with you?" demanded the frog, curling his lip. "Missing a meal because you don't like some one! You would never catch me doing that! I know Jorge and even he isn't..." The frog blinked and his eyes opened wide. He leaned closer, scrutinizing me from head to toe as if seeing me for the first time. "Wait a minute ... If your mother invited a prince to visit, does that mean that you're a princess?"
"Maybe," I said.
The frog grinned from eardrum to eardrum. Straightening his smooth green shoulders, he bowed from where his waist would have been if he'd had one. "I do apologize, Your Highness! If I had realized that you were such an exalted personage, I would never have made such churlish comments."
I groaned and rolled my eyes. "Give me a break. I hate it when people talk that way. I liked you better before you knew I was a princess."
"Ah-hah!" said the frog. He hopped toward me, his eyes never leaving my face. "I'm delighted to hear that you like me! In that case, would you be so kind as to do me the eensy-weensiest little favor?"
"And what might that be?" I asked, regretting my question even before the words were out of my mouth.
"Would you do me the honor of giving me a kiss?"
I couldn't help but laugh. I guffawed, I chortled, I wheezed. I laughed like I always do. Startled blackbirds took to the air as if hurled from a little boy's slingshot. A turtle basking in the sun scuttled off his rock and plopped into the water. The frog stared at me through narrowed eyes. "Are you sure you're a princess? You don't laugh like one."
"I know," I said, wiping away tears. "My mother tells me that all the time. According to her, a princess's laughter should sound like the tinkling of a bell, not the bray of a donkey. I've told her that I can't help it. My laugh is not something I can control, not if it's sincere. I don't think about it. It just happens."
"Whatever you say," said the frog. "So how about that kiss?" Puckering his lips, he rose up on his toes and raised his face in my direction.
I shook my head. "Sorry, I'm not interested in kissing a frog."
"I've been told that kissing a frog is good for the complexion," he said, sidling toward me.
"I doubt it. Anyway, my complexion is fine."
"What about the old saying, kissing a frog would bring you luck?"
"I've never heard that saying. It can't be too old. I think you just made it up. All kissing a frog would bring me is slimy lips." I shuddered and backed away. "The answer is no, so quit asking!"
The frog sighed and scratched the side of his head with his toe. "Maybe you would feel otherwise if you knew that I was a prince turned into a frog by an evil witch. I had the misfortune to criticize her fashion sense. She didn't take kindly to my comments."
"What does that have to do with a kiss?"
"If I can get a princess to kiss me, I'll turn back into a prince!"
"That's not very flattering to me, now, is it? All you need is a kiss from any old princess. A girl likes to think that her very first kiss will be something special. Well, I'm not going to kiss you! I have no idea where you've been. I could catch some awful disease. Besides, considering what you must eat, I bet you have awful breath."
"Well!" said the frog. He drew himself up to his full froggy height. "Now you're being rude. I simply asked you for the courtesy of a small favor and instead you insult me."
"That was a big favor and you know it. I kiss only people I like, and I just met you!"
"But this is important. It's a matter of life or frog-hood!"
"I'm sorry. I'm not in the habit of kissing strangers, regardless of their species. Can't you get someone else to kiss you? There must be another princess you could ask. Someone petite who doesn't trip over her own feet." Although I wasn't about to admit it to the frog, his comment about my size still rankled. I had heard the same kind of remark from my mother many times, but it never stopped bothering me.
"Sure! I'll ask one of the hundreds of other princesses who are hanging around the swamp, begging to be kissed!"
I'd had enough. Gathering my skirts in one hand, I turned to go. "If that's the way you're going to be, I'm leaving. I left the castle today so I wouldn't have to visit with an obnoxious prince. Now here I am, talking to an obnoxious frog who says he's a prince."
"No! Wait! Come back!" called the frog. "You can't go now! This is an emergency! Where's your compassion? Where's your sympathy? Where's my kiss?"
I stopped at the edge of the path and tried to speak in a calm voice. It wasn't easy, and I'm afraid my words came out sounding short and sharp. "I don't care if it's the end of the world as we know it," I said between gritted teeth. "I have better things to do with my time than listen to unreasonable requests from a frog. Good day, Frog."
The last thing I saw before I turned to leave was the hopeless look in the frog's eyes. It was the look of someone in terrible trouble. It was a look that would haunt me for the rest of the day.