Version 1

In a big, old castle, a Count paced back and forth. He had a son, but oh dear, the Count thought his son wasn't very clever at all. "He learns nothing!" the Count grumbled. "I'll send him to a wise teacher."

So, off the boy went. A year later, he returned. "What have you learned, son?" asked the Count.
"Father," said the boy, "I learned what the dogs bark about!"
The Count sighed. "Is that all? What a waste! Off to another teacher you go."

After another year with a new teacher, the boy came home. "And now, what have you learned?" the Count asked, hoping for something better.
"Father," the boy replied, "I learned what the birds chirp about!"
The Count threw his hands up. "Birds? First dogs, now birds! One last chance. Go to a third teacher."

A year later, the boy stood before his father again. "Tell me, please tell me you've learned something useful!" begged the Count.
"Father," said the boy proudly, "I learned what the frogs croak about!"
The Count was so cross, he told his son to leave and never come back.

The boy wandered far and wide until he came to a spooky tower. Dogs were barking wildly! But the boy understood them. "They're guarding treasure!" he realized. He spoke to the dogs in their own language, and they wagged their tails and let him pass to find gold and jewels.

He traveled on and reached a great city called Rome. Just then, the Pope, the most important person in the church, had passed away. Everyone wondered who would be next. Suddenly, two white doves flew down and landed on the boy’s shoulders! "It's a sign!" the people cried. "He will be our new Pope!"

The boy was a bit worried. He didn't know all the important songs and prayers. But that night, as he sat by a pond, he heard the frogs croaking. And guess what? They were croaking the very words he needed to know! He listened carefully, and the next day, he was a wonderful Pope, all thanks to the languages he had learned.

Version 2

There once was a young fellow, let's call him Leo, whose father, a rich Count, thought he was a bit of a daydreamer. "He needs to learn a proper trade!" the Count would often say. So, he sent Leo to a famous school.

After a year, Leo came home. "Well?" asked his father. "What important things did you master?"
"I can understand what dogs are saying!" Leo chirped, his eyes shining.
His father just shook his head. "That's not what I meant. Try another school."

Leo went away for another year. When he returned, his father asked, "And this time? What grand knowledge have you gained?"
"Oh, Father, it's wonderful! I can understand the language of the birds!"
The Count groaned. "Useless! One more try, and if you don't learn something sensible, you're on your own!"

So, Leo spent a third year learning. He came back, and his father asked, almost afraid to hear the answer, "What is it now?"
"I've learned what the frogs say when they croak!" Leo announced happily.
That was the last straw for the Count. He gave Leo some money and told him to go make his own way in the world.

Leo wasn't too sad. He set off on his own. One night, he heard dogs barking fiercely near an old castle. "They're saying there's treasure inside, but it's guarded!" Leo understood. He whistled a friendly tune he'd learned from a happy spaniel, and the guard dogs wagged their tails, letting him find a chest full of shiny coins.

He journeyed to a big city where the people were sad because their leader, the Pope, had gone to heaven. As they prayed for a new one, two gentle doves fluttered down and settled right on Leo’s head! "He is chosen!" everyone shouted.

Leo was happy but also a little scared. He didn't know the special church songs. That evening, by a little stream, he heard frogs singing. "Ribbit, croak, these are the holy words!" they seemed to say. Leo listened all night, and the next day, he knew exactly what to do, and everyone agreed he was a very special Pope indeed.

Version 3

Picture this: a grand Count with a son who just didn't seem interested in sums or history. "He must learn *something*!" declared the Count, stroking his beard thoughtfully. So, the son was packed off to a teacher.

When he came back, the Count asked, "What amazing skill did you master?"
The son grinned. "I know what woof woof means, and grrr, and yip yip!"
The Count frowned. "Dog talk? That's it? Go to another teacher, and learn something better!"

A year passed. The son returned. "And now?" the Count inquired.
"Now I can tell you what every tweet, chirp, and coo means! I understand the birds!"
"Birds!" exclaimed the Count, getting rather red in the face. "One more chance, my boy. Learn something truly important, or else!"

After his third year of study, the son came home. "Well?" his father demanded.
"I've learned the language of the frogs!" the son said with a smile.
The Count had had enough. "Out of my sight!" he roared. "Go and talk to your frogs!"

So the son left. He wandered until he heard a pack of dogs near a ruined fort. "They're saying, 'Big treasure here, but scary to get!'" he understood. He barked back in a friendly way, and the dogs showed him a secret path to riches!

His travels took him to the famous city of Rome. The city needed a new Pope. As everyone waited, two snow-white doves swooped down and perched on the son’s shoulders. "A miracle!" the people cheered. "He's the one!"

Now, being Pope meant knowing lots of special chants. The son worried. But that night, he heard a chorus of frogs by a pond. "Croak-croak, sing these words, croak-croak!" they sang. He learned them all, and everyone thought he was the wisest Pope ever, even if his father never understood how useful talking to animals could be.

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