Write a story about catching a frog
The mud made a squelching sucking noise as Ben sloshed his way along the shallow end of the duck pond. As he waded through the bright green duckweed, his gumboots left a trampled trail of destruction. Reaching down, he ran his hand over the surface of the weed. It was like a cool carpet under his fingers. What a pity that his boots were mangling it, but it couldn't be helped. They had always called it the duck pond, even though there were no ducks here. There were frogs instead - big, green ones.

Katie hovered on the bank with one glass jar. She wasn't allowed in the water ever since the day she had fallen in and Ben had had to rescue her. That day, both of them had gone home wet and dirty.

Ben tied the bale twine belt tighter around his waist and hitched up his brown furry trousers. His mother had made them too big on purpose. She said they would last him longer, but he found them irritating as they often fell down. Now, the sleeves of his jersey were soaked as he'd forgotten to roll them up. "It's too late to do anything about it now," he thought to himself as the soggy sleeves dripped into the pond. Later, when he got home, perhaps he could hide the jersey so that his mother wouldn't find it. Ben picked up both jars from the grassy bank and turned towards his sister.

"Come on. Let's go home," he said, feeling pleased that he'd found a small bright green frog.