One fine sunny morning, the Irish priest 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 Irish priest.
“Well,” said the frog,
“the reason I am so sad on this fine day is that I wasn’t always a frog.”
“Really!” said the Irish priest. “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 w!tch 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 Irish priest.
“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 & Warmth and with a good night’s sleep would wake up a boy once again.”
“Today’s your lucky day!” said the Irish priest, and picked up the frog and took him home.
The Irish priest gave the frog lots of food, placed him by the fire and at bedtime put the frog on the pillow beside him.
When the Irish priest awoke, he saw the 11-year-old Choirboy beside him in bed,
And that my lord is the case for the Defense……. “
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