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Stories about unicorns abound. This page contains ones that are not easy to find elsewhere. Enjoy!


by Scott Adams

November 16-19 1998

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The Unicorn, the frog, and the boy
by Leisha Sagan

There once was a boy, with many a toy
To play to his heart's delight.
There were Martians in cars, which he flew to Mars
In the deepest embrace of the night.
Among all the toys he had many of joys
But one stood out from the rest.
Deep in the bog was a purple frog
Which he loved the very best.
One day said the frog, "Let's go for a jog
To a land which is far away.
It has wonders galore! I'm sure you'll adore
This land, well, waddya say?"
The boy said "yes" as you can guess
And off they flew in a ship
Through all the stars and even past Mars
To a land called Blueberry Dip.
And, oh, what a sight! They were filled with delight
At the majestically beautiful land,
With blueberry trees and purple seas
Along banks of white and green sand.
There were lovely blue skies and deer with green eyes
Roaming throughout the trees,
Bushes of berries and glowing pink faeries,
And even silver-striped bees.
Said the boy to the frog, "Let's go for a jog
Along the sand so white and green.
And we'll see a goose or a chocolate moose,
Are you with me?" The frog said, "That's keen!"
So off were they to the purple bay
And guess what they did see!
A unicorn fair with silvery hair
Next to a blueberry tree!
Said the fair unicorn, "Do you have a horn?
For my shoe I cannot get on."
The boy said "yes" as you can guess
On the grounds for a ride until dawn.
So the frog and the boy jumped on their new toy
And rode through the magical land.
So happy were they as they went on their way,
Until there appeared a black Hand.
It was well before dawn, and the trio looked on
At the Hand which was quite a sight.
It was all black and hairy and ever so scary,
And they nearly fainted with fright.
Said the hand in a voice incredibly hoarse,
"This is my land you have crossed!
A toll you must pay, or to your dismay
In the sea you will quickly be tossed!
There are three things which you shall bring,
Search the land far and wide!
An egg filled with gold, a seashell, and mold,
Find them! Do not try to hide!"
So split the friends in search of an end
To their misfortune terribly grim.
They tried to stay glad, although they were sad,
Their prospects looked terribly dim.
The boy being bold sought the egg filled with gold
And much to his delight
In a nest it was found watched by a mad hound.
The boy feared a terrible fight.
But his instincts he used to concoct a ruse
To lure the hound away.
With a faint groan, he used a large bone
And the dog came darting his way.
With the dog gone he ran past the lawn
To grab the egg out of the nest.
He snatched it up fast, then quickly ran past
The dog with incredible zest.
Next came the frog who jumped on a log
Then dived deep into the sea.
He searched for the shell and gave a yell
When he found it by a blue tree.
A tree in the sea? "Impossible!" said he,
Then grabbed the shell out of the sand.
But he gave a yell, almost dropping the shell,
When the tree suddenly grew hands.
The hands sought the frog but he broke into a jog,
Confusing the hands a lot.
They twisted and turned and jumped and churned
'Till they were tangled into a knot.
At last came the unicorn using his horn
To dig the mold out of the ground.
His task was the worst and he thought he would burst
For mold tastes terrible, he found.
With his mouth he was forced, though not coerced,
To carry the terrible mold.
He ran with great haste to deliver the waste,
He'd have preferred the egg filled with gold.
At last they were done and it was not at all fun
To pay the terrible toll.
But alive they would stay to the hand's dismay
They were not thrown into a hole.
So they ended their trip to Blueberry Dip,
The unicorn, the frog, and the boy.
An adventure they had, so they were not sad,
No, they were filled with great joy.

About the Author:

Leisha Sagan lives in Kamloops, British Columbia, Canada and plans someday to be a writer. She has her own homepage at called The Write Stuff for young people to get published on. I love getting e-mail!

You can send mail to the author at

The Unicorn in the Garden
by James Thurber
reprinted from
Fables For Our Time

Once upon a sunny morning a man who sat in a breakfast nook looked up from his scrambled eggs to see a white unicorn with a golden horn quietly cropping the roses in the garden. The man went up to the bedroom where his wife was still asleep and woke her. "There's a unicorn in the garden," he said. "Eating roses." She opened one unfriendly eye and looked at him.

"The unicorn is a mythical beast," she said, and turned her back on him. The man walked slowly downstairs and out into the garden. The unicorn was still there; now he was browsing among the tulips. "Here, unicorn," said the man, and he pulled up a lily and gave it to him. The unicorn ate it gravely. With a high heart, because there was a unicorn in his garden, the man went upstairs and roused his wife again. "The unicorn," he said,"ate a lily." His wife sat up in bed and looked at him coldly. "You are a booby," she said, "and I am going to have you put in the booby-hatch."

The man, who had never liked the words "booby" and "booby-hatch," and who liked them even less on a shining morning when there was a unicorn in the garden, thought for a moment. "We'll see about that," he said. He walked over to the door. "He has a golden horn in the middle of his forehead," he told her. Then he went back to the garden to watch the unicorn; but the unicorn had gone away. The man sat down among the roses and went to sleep.

As soon as the husband had gone out of the house, the wife got up and dressed as fast as she could. She was very excited and there was a gloat in her eye. She telephoned the police and she telephoned a psychiatrist; she told them to hurry to her house and bring a strait-jacket. When the police and the psychiatrist arrived they sat down in chairs and looked at her, with great interest.

"My husband," she said, "saw a unicorn this morning." The police looked at the psychiatrist and the psychiatrist looked at the police. "He told me it ate a lilly," she said. The psychiatrist looked at the police and the police looked at the psychiatrist. "He told me it had a golden horn in the middle of its forehead," she said. At a solemn signal from the psychiatrist, the police leaped from their chairs and seized the wife. They had a hard time subduing her, for she put up a terrific struggle, but they finally subdued her. Just as they got her into the strait-jacket, the husband came back into the house.

"Did you tell your wife you saw a unicorn?" asked the police. "Of course not," said the husband. "The unicorn is a mythical beast." "That's all I wanted to know," said the psychiatrist. "Take her away. I'm sorry, sir, but your wife is as crazy as a jaybird."

So they took her away, cursing and screaming, and shut her up in an institution. The husband lived happily ever after.

Moral: Don't count your boobies until they are hatched.