Tales From The Riverbank

By Benjamin Francks

Far from the hustle and bustle of the city, in the fictional countryside of Buckington, down on the quiet and charming riverbank lives a very special set of creatures! The lonesome grasshopper, the know-it-all mouse, the lost dragonfly, the arrogant toad and the venturing newt are all waiting for you to come and share in their stories as they learn life's lessons and experience everyday challenges.

Share in these five richly-woven short stories as each riverbank animal takes his own tale, detailing a journey on how these characters live and how their adventures develop. While they may live separately, they also know when to ask for help and show that you're never truly alone when you have a friend. Ideal for young readers who enjoy Beatrix Potter or The Wind in the Willows, these future classics will be ones you return to again and again.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Troubador Publishing Ltd
• Release date: Aug 28, 2023
• ISBN: 9781805146292

Benjamin Francks

Benjamin Francks has been writing for ten years. His inspiration for his debut came from his daughter who longed for something different to read. Tales from the Riverbank is the result.

Book preview

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Copyright © 2023 Benjamin Francks

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Matador

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Harrison Road, Market Harborough,

Leicestershire. LE16 7UL

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Web: www.troubador.co.uk/matador

Twitter: @matadorbooks

ISBN 978 1805146 292

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

Matador is an imprint of Troubador Publishing Ltd

I would like to dedicate these tales to my daughter Lydia Francks, for her love of animals

Contents

The Lonesome Grasshopper

Know-It-All Mouse

The Lost Dragonfly

The Arrogant Toad

The Venturing Newt

Over the mountains and past the hills

In the grassy lands of Buckingham,

Its blue skies and white fluffy clouds,

Upon its greenery, sun shining down,

Bringing light to the wildlife below.

Robins fly, branch to branch,

Past the long grass, through the parting tree,

There lies a riverbank, where everyone is free.

Its banks are wide and its plants tall

A river that flows far and deep

Where the otters and toads swim.

Animals awaken to the sun’s twinkle

Mice call the undergrowth home

Flowers dance in the morning winds

The riverbank, home to many things.

The Lonesome Grasshopper

The riverbank was home to many animals. Some lived underwater, some lived in the long grasses, others flew amongst the trees and some lived right here down amongst the flowers, and life for them was different indeed.

Eagles hovered over the holly bushes and owls slept in trees. There were those whose lives barely left the soil, ants carried food back to the colony and squirrels hollowed out the parting trees. Life amongst the embankment was not just full of excitement and joy, danger lurked here for a sleeping grasshopper, days here were not as dull as they seemed. Something all too familiar for Raymond, who lived amongst the fallen leaves.

Raymond’s house was made of mud, with sticks lining the walls, a roof made of leaves and a leaf hammock to sleep in. There was a small stove in the room’s corner and a chair made of stalks from neighbouring plants. Raymond’s life was a never-changing routine. After rising from the hammock, he slipped into his leather shoes, put on his chequered coat and, cane in hand, headed out for his mid-afternoon walk. Raymond bumped into an old friend pecking at the soil, a robin hoping to catch a worm.

Good afternoon, Clementine said.

It is indeed, Raymond replied.

How are you today? Clementine said.

I’m just fine, but I can’t talk. I must hurry. Good day, Raymond replied.

Sauntering across the embankment, lush plants stemmed out from the river, its flow brought the afternoon current and rush of fishery traffic. Sunbathing frogs lay on top of the lily pads, butterflies fled the oncoming racing cod and daily commute of wooden sailing boats and stick-woven canoes. Using his cane as a coat stand, he placed it into the watered soil. Edging closer to the embankment’s edge, with bent knees and opened wings, Raymond leapt forward, gliding across the water to the outreached stalks. Hovering above the target, he surveyed the area, and, once he declared it safe, he landed to gather up stalks. Flying back across the water, Raymond landed on the embankment’s edge. Placing the stalks on the ground, slipping back into his shoes and coat, Raymond headed for home.

Walking home, stalks in hand, daydreaming about how best to cook them. Eating them raw, steaming until soft or cooking them in soup. The thought brought a spring in his step all the way home, eager to ease a rumbling tummy.

Oh, what to do? What to do? Raymond’s mind wondered.

The water was brought