[Illustration]
It was beautiful in the country. It was summertime. The wheat was
yellow, the oats were green, the hay was stacked up in the green
meadows, and the stork paraded about on his long red legs, talking
in Egyptian, which language he had learnt from his mother.
The fields and meadows were skirted by thick woods, and a deep lake lay
in the midst of the woods. Yes; it was indeed beautiful in the country!
The sunshine fell warmly on an old mansion, surrounded by deep canals,
and from the walls down to the water's edge there grew large burdock
leaves, so high that children could stand upright among them without
being seen.
This place was as wild as the thickest part of the wood, and on that
account a Duck had chosen to make her nest there. She was sitting on
her eggs; but the pleasure she had felt at first was now almost gone,
because she had been there so long, and had so few visitors, for the
other Ducks preferred swimming on the canals to sitting among the
burdock leaves gossiping with her.
At last the eggs cracked one after another, "Chick, chick!" All the eggs
were alive, and one little head after another peered forth. "Quack,
quack!" said the Duck, and all got up as well as they could. They peeped
about from under the green leaves; and as green is good for the eyes,
their mother let them look as long as they pleased.
"How large the world is!" said the little ones, for they found their new
abode very different from their former narrow one in the egg-shells.
"Do you imagine this to be the whole of the world?" said the mother.
"It extends far beyond the other side of the garden in the pastor's
field; but I have never been there. Are you all here?" And then she got
up. "No, not all, for the largest egg is still here. How long will this
last? I am so weary of it!" And then she sat down again.
"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."
[Illustration: _The Ugly Duckling_
"What is the Matter?" asked the Old Woman]
"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. "Chick! chick!" said the little one, and
out it tumbled--but, oh! 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-cock? 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
canal. 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 quite easily. Their legs moved
without effort. All were there, even the ugly grey one.
"No; it is not a turkey," said the old Duck; "only see how prettily it
moves its legs, how upright it holds itself! It is my own child. It is
also really very pretty, when you look more closely at it. Quack! quack!
now come with me, I will take you into the world and introduce you in
the duck-yards. But keep close to me, or someone may tread on you; and
beware of the Cat."
So they came into the duck-yard. There was a horrid noise; two families
were quarreling about the head of an eel, which in the end was carried
off 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 honor 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, "Just 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.
[Illustration]
"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," said the others.
"Those 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-shell, 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, so it does not matter so
much. He will fight his way through."
[Illustration]
"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."
So they made themselves at home.
But the poor little Duckling, who had come last out of its egg-shell,
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-cock, who had come
into the world with spurs on, and therefore fancied he was an emperor,
puffed himself up like a ship in full sail, and marched up to the
Duckling quite red with passion. 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 passed 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, "May the Cat take
you, you nasty creature!" The mother said, "Ah, if you were only far
away!" The Ducks bit him, the Hens pecked him, and the girl who fed the
poultry kicked him.
He ran through the hedge, and 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, very tired
and comfortless. In the morning the Wild Ducks flew up, and saw 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.
[Illustration]
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-shells,
which accounts for their impertinence.
"Hark ye," said they; "you are so ugly that we like you very well. Will
you come with us and be a bird of passage? 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.
There was a grand hunting party. The hunters lay in ambush all around;
some were even sitting in the trees, whose huge branches stretched far
over the moor. The blue smoke rose through the thick trees like a mist,
and was dispersed as it fell over the water. The hounds splashed about
in the mud, the reeds and rushes bent in all directions.
How frightened the poor little Duck was! He turned his head, thinking
to hide it under his wings, and in a moment a most formidable-looking
Dog stood close to him, his tongue hanging out of his mouth, his eyes
sparkling fearfully. He opened wide his jaws at the sight of our
Duckling, showing him his sharp white teeth, and, splash, splash!
he was gone--gone without hurting him.
"Well! let me be thankful," sighed he. "I am so ugly that even the Dog
will not eat me."
And now he lay still, though the shooting continued among the reeds,
shot following shot.
The noise did not cease till late in the day, and even then the poor
little thing dared not stir. He waited several hours before he looked
around him, and then hurried away from the moor as fast as he could.
He ran over fields and meadows, though the wind was so high that he
had some difficulty in moving.
Towards evening he reached a wretched little hut, so wretched that it
knew not on which side to fall, and therefore remained standing. The
wind blew violently, so that our poor little Duckling was obliged to
support himself on his tail, in order to stand against it; but it
became worse and worse. He then noticed that the door had lost one
of its hinges, and hung so much awry that he could creep through the
crack into the room. So he went in.
In this room lived an old woman, with her Tom-cat and her Hen. The Cat,
whom she called her little son, knew how to set up his back and purr;
indeed, he could even throw out sparks when stroked the wrong way. The
Hen had very short legs, and was therefore called "Chickie Short-legs."
She laid very good eggs, and the old woman loved her as her own child.
The next morning the new guest was discovered, and the Cat began to mew
and the Hen to cackle.
[Illustration]
"What is the matter?" asked the old woman, looking round. But her eyes
were not good, so she took the young Duckling to be a fat Duck who had
lost her way. "This is a capital catch," said she, "I shall now have
Duck's eggs, if it be not a Drake. We shall see."
And so the Duckling was kept on trial for three weeks, but no eggs made
their appearance. Now the Cat was the master of the house, and the Hen
was the mistress, and always used to say, "We and the world," for they
imagined themselves to be not only the half of the world, but also by
far the better half. The Duckling thought it was possible to be of a
different opinion, but that the Hen would not allow.
"Can you lay eggs?" asked she.
"No."
"Well, then, hold your tongue."