Ferdinand the Bull

Once upon a time in sunny Spain,

there was a little bull and his name was Ferdinand.

All the other little bulls he lived with would run and jump

and butt their heads together.

But not Ferdinand.

He had his favourite spot out in the pasture under a cork tree.

And he would sit just quietly in its shade all day

and smell the flowers.

Sometimes his mother,

who was a cow, would worry about him.

She was afraid he would be lonesome all by himself.

Now, Ferdinand,

why don't you play with all the other little bulls and butt your head.

But Ferdinand would shake his head.

I like it better here,

where I can sit just quietly

and smell the flowers.

And because she was an understanding mother,

even though she was a cow,

she let him just sit there

and be happy.

As the years went by,

Ferdinand grew and grew and grew.

Until he was very big and very strong.

All the other bulls wanted most of all

to fight at the bullfights in Madrid.

But not Ferdinand.

He still liked to sit just quietly under the cork tree

and smell the flowers.

One day, five men came in funny hats

to pick the biggest, fastest, roughest bull to fight in the bullfights.

All the other bulls ran around, leaping and puffing and butting their heads

so the men would think they were strong and fierce

and pick them.

But not Ferdinand.

He knew they wouldn't pick him.

And he didn't care.

So he went out under his favourite cork tree to sit down.

But he didn't look where he was sitting and he sat on a bumblebee.

Ferdinand ran around puffing and swatting as if he were crazy.

The five men saw him and they all shouted with joy.

Look at him go.

Bravo.

This is the one.

So they took him away for the bullfighting day in a cart.