Now that Muscadel was a toad he felt he should like to find a quiet damp place to live in, so he crawled to the edge of the basin of the palace fountain.
And when he had found a nice damp crack in the marble he squeezed in and stayed there for some days. But one day, when he went out for a breath of air and a woodlouse or two, a great beak clattered quite near him, and startled him so that he nearly jumped out of his toad's skin.
The person with a beak was a stork, and Muscadel knew what the stork wanted.
'Oh, a toad's life is a dog's life,' said Muscadel; 'I wish I was a stork.'
So he was a stork, and the magic jewel, grown bigger, was round his right leg.
It was fine to be a stork, and he did not envy even the golden eagle that flew down to drink at the fountain. And when the eagle came within a yard or two of him he felt so large and brave that he said:
'Keep to your own side, will you? Where are you shoving to?'
The golden eagle, whose temper is very short, looked at him with evil golden eyes, and said:
'You'll soon see where I am shoving to,' and flew at him.
Muscadel saw that he had made a mistake that might cost him his life.