Once upon a time, across seven hundred and seventeen countries, there was a frog. The frog met the mouse and the sausage. The three of them started talking and decided to be friends forever.
The mouse was put in as a sweeper, the frog as a procurer and the sausage as a cook. So things went on for a month. The frog was the procurer, because he could jump well and come and go quickly, the mouse was the sweeper and brought in wood and water, and the sausage was the cook.
Well, the sausage made such good food that they were licking their lips forever. No matter how much they ate, they couldn't get enough because the food was so good. When the month was over, the sausage would say:
- Well, the thing is, which one of you is going to be the chef?
- So be the frog.
They made the frog cook. He cooked for three or four days, and then the cook was fired. They said:
- You are not a good cook.
The frog was ashamed.
- Well, who's cooking then?
Says the sausage:
- We put the mouse there.
They put the mouse there. He cooked for two or three days, but he couldn't cook very well either. They forced the sausage on him:
- Only you cook!
The sausage kept saying:
- I've cooked my month, and if you don't want to cook, we'd rather end the friendship.
Somehow they just asked for the sausage, yet he agreed to cook for another day or two. The frog figured he would learn how to cook the sausage in the meantime. He started to see what he was doing.
Well, when the juice was boiling, after a while the sausage, seeing that there was no one around, threw himself into the juice. He turned himself in it and came out.
"Oops," thought the frog, "now I know how to do it! The soup is so good because he threw himself in it."
Then he offered:
- Well, now I'm going to be the cook, now I can cook too!
He chuckled and put a big pot of water by the fire. He built a good fire and cooked and cooked. When he thought he had cooked all the stuff he had put in, he didn't wait for the juice to cool a little, but when it was hottest he pushed it in.
Well, he could barely get out, he was all stitched up, the skin on his back was running together. He's had a toad ever since.
He stopped cooking, barely able to move, burnt by the hot juice. The sausage and the mouse, when he told them how it had gone, spat it out.
The friendship broke up, and from then on everyone lived apart. They are still alive today, if not dead.
(Ágnes Kovács: Folk tales for kindergarten children)
