Part 25 (1/2)

”Well, and how are you getting on?” asked an old Duck, who had come to pay her a visit.

”This one egg keeps me so long!” said the mother, ”it will not break.

But you should see the others! they are the prettiest little ducklings I have seen in all my days; they are all like their father,--the good-for-nothing fellow, he has not been to visit me once!”

”Let me see the egg that will not break!” said the old Duck; ”depend upon it, it is a turkey's egg. I was cheated in the same way once myself, and I had such trouble with the young ones; for they were afraid of the water, and I could not get them there. I called and scolded, but it was all of no use. But let me see the egg. Ah, yes! to be sure, that is a turkey's egg. Leave it, and teach the other little ones to swim.”

”I will sit on it a little longer,” said the Duck. ”I have been sitting so long that I may as well spend the harvest here.”

”It is no business of mine,” said the old Duck, and away she waddled.

The great egg burst at last. ”Tchick! tchick!” said the little one, and out it tumbled; but O, how large and ugly it was! The Duck looked at it. ”That is a great, strong creature,” said she; ”none of the others are at all like it. Can it be a young turkey-c.o.c.k? Well, we shall soon find out; it must go into the water, though I push it in myself.”

The next day there was delightful weather, and the sun shone warmly upon the green leaves when Mother Duck with all her family went down to the ca.n.a.l; plump she went into the water. ”Quack, quack!” cried she, and one duckling after another jumped in. The water closed over their heads, but all came up again, and swam together in the pleasantest manner; their legs moved without effort. All were there, even the ugly, gray one.

”No! it is not a turkey,” said the old Duck; ”only see how prettily it moves its legs! how upright it hold itself! it is my own child: it is also really very pretty, when one looks more closely at it. Quack!

quack! now come with me, I will take you into the world, introduce you in the duck-yard; but keep close to me, or some one may tread on you; and beware of the cat.”

So they came into the duck-yard. There was a horrid noise; two families were quarrelling about the remains of an eel, which in the end was secured by the cat.

”See, my children, such is the way of the world,” said the Mother Duck, wiping her beak, for she, too, was fond of eels. ”Now use your legs,” said she; ”keep together, and bow to the old duck you see yonder. She is the most distinguished of all the fowls present, and is of Spanish blood, which accounts for her dignified appearance and manners. And look, she has a red rag on her leg! that is considered extremely handsome, and is the greatest distinction a duck can have.

Don't turn your feet inwards; a well-educated duckling always keeps his legs far apart, like his father and mother, just so,--look! now bow your necks, and say, 'quack.'”

And they did as they were told. But the other ducks who were in the yard looked at them, and said aloud, ”Only see! now we have another brood,--as if there were not enough of us already; and fie! how ugly that one is! we will not endure it.” And immediately one of the ducks flew at him, and bit him in the neck.

”Leave him alone,” said the mother; ”he is doing no one any harm.”

”Yes, but he is so large, and so strange-looking, and therefore he shall be teased.”

”These are fine children that our good mother has,” said the old Duck with the red rag on her leg. ”All are pretty except one, and that has not turned out well; I almost wish it could be hatched over again.”

”That cannot be, please your highness,” said the mother. ”Certainly he is not handsome, but he is a very good child, and swims as well as the others, indeed rather better. I think he will grow like the others all in good time, and perhaps will look smaller. He stayed so long in the egg-sh.e.l.l, that is the cause of the difference”; and she scratched the Duckling's neck, and stroked his whole body. ”Besides,” added she, ”he is a drake; I think he will be very strong, therefore it does not matter, so much; he will fight his way through.”

”The other ducks are very pretty,” said the old Duck. ”Pray make yourselves at home, and if you find an eel's head you can bring it to me.”

And accordingly they made themselves at home.

But the poor little Duckling who had come last out of its egg-sh.e.l.l, and who was so ugly, was bitten, pecked, and teased by both Ducks and Hens. ”It is so large!” said they all. And the Turkey-c.o.c.k, who had come into the world with spurs on, and therefore fancied he was an emperor, puffed himself up like a s.h.i.+p in full sail, and marched up to the Duckling quite red with pa.s.sion. The poor little thing scarcely knew what to do; he was quite distressed because he was so ugly, and because he was the jest of the poultry-yard.

So pa.s.sed the first day, and afterwards matters grew worse and worse; the poor Duckling was scorned by all. Even his brothers and sisters behaved unkindly, and were constantly saying, ”The cat fetch thee, thou nasty creature!” The mother said, ”Ah, if thou wert only far away!” The Ducks bit him, the Hens pecked him, and the girl who fed the poultry kicked him. He ran over the hedge; the little birds in the bushes were terrified. ”That is because I am so ugly,” thought the Duckling, shutting his eyes, but he ran on. At last he came to a wide moor, where lived some Wild Ducks; here he lay the whole night, so tired and so comfortless. In the morning the Wild Ducks flew up, and perceived their new companion. ”Pray, who are you?” asked they; and our little Duckling turned himself in all directions, and greeted them as politely as possible.

”You are really uncommonly ugly!” said the Wild Ducks; ”however, that does not matter to us, provided you do not marry into our families.”

Poor thing! he had never thought of marrying; he only begged permission to lie among the reeds and drink the water of the moor.

There he lay for two whole days; on the third day there came two Wild Geese, or rather Ganders, who had not been long out of their egg-sh.e.l.ls, which accounts for their impertinence.

”Hark ye!” said they, ”you are so ugly that we like you infinitely well; will you come with us, and be a bird of pa.s.sage? On another moor, not far from this, are some dear, sweet Wild Geese, as lovely creatures as have ever said 'hiss, hiss.' You are truly in the way to make your fortune, ugly as you are.”

Bang! a gun went off all at once, and both Wild Geese were stretched dead among the reeds; the water became red with blood; bang! a gun went off again; whole flocks of wild geese flew up from among the reeds, and another report followed.