"No."
"Then you had better keep your opinions to yourself when people of
sense are speaking!"
The duckling sat in the corner nursing his ill-humor; then he began to
think of the fresh air and the sunshine, an uncontrollable longing
seized him to float on the water, and at last he could not help
telling the hen about it.
"What on earth possesses you?" she asked. "You have nothing to do;
that is why you get these freaks into your head. Lay some eggs or take
to purring, and you will get over it."
"But it is so delicious to float, on the water," said the duckling;
"so delicious to feel it rushing over your head when you dive to the
bottom."
"That would be a fine amusement," said the hen. "I think you have gone
mad. Ask the cat about it, he is the wisest creature I know; ask him
if he is fond of floating on the water or diving under it. I say
nothing about myself. Ask our mistress yourself, the old woman; there
is no one in the world cleverer than she is. Do you suppose she has
any desire to float on the water or to duck underneath it?"
"You do not understand me," said the duckling.
"Well, if we don't understand you, who should? I suppose you don't
consider yourself cleverer than the cat or the old woman, not to
mention me. Don't make a fool of yourself, child, and thank your stars
for all the good we have done you! Have you not lived in this warm
room, and in such society that you might have learned something? But
you are an idiot, and there is no pleasure in associating with you.
You may believe me I mean you well, I tell you home truths, and there
is no surer way than that of knowing who are one's friends. You just
see about laying some eggs, or learn to purr, or to emit sparks."
"I think I will go out into the wide world," said the duckling.
"Oh, do so by all means!" said the hen.
So away went the duckling; he floated on the water and ducked
underneath it, but he was looked askance at by every living creature
for his ugliness. Now the autumn came on, the leaves in the woods
turned yellow and brown; the wind took hold of them, and they danced
about. The sky looked very cold, and the clouds hung heavy with snow
and hail. A raven stood on the fence and croaked Caw! Caw! from sheer
cold; it made one shiver only to think of it. The poor duckling
certainly was in a bad case.
One evening the sun was just setting in wintry splendor when a flock
of beautiful large birds appeared out of the bushes. The duckling had
never seen anything so beautiful. They were dazzlingly white with long
waving necks; they were swans; and, uttering a peculiar cry, they
spread out their magnificent broad wings, and flew away from the cold
regions to warmer lands and open seas. They mounted so high, so very
high, and the ugly little duckling became strangely uneasy; he circled
round and round in the water like a wheel, craning his neck up into
the air after them. Then he uttered a shriek so piercing and so
strange that he was quite frightened by it himself. Oh, he could not
forget those beautiful birds, those happy birds! And as soon as they
were out of sight he ducked right down to the bottom, and when he came
up again he was quite beside himself. He did not know what the birds
were or whither they flew, but all the same he was more drawn towards
them than he had ever been by any creatures before. He did not even
envy them in the least. How could it occur to him even to wish to be
such a marvel of beauty; he would have been thankful if only the ducks
would have tolerated him among them--the poor ugly creature!
The winter was so bitterly cold that the duckling was obliged to swim
about in the water to keep it from freezing, but every night the hole
in which he swam got smaller and smaller. Then it froze so hard that
the surface ice cracked, and the duckling had to use his legs all the
time, so that the ice should not close in round him; at last he was so
weary that he could move no more, and he was frozen fast into the ice.
Early in the morning a peasant came along and saw him; he went out
onto the ice and hammered a hole in it with his heavy wooden shoe, and
carried the duckling home to his wife. There it soon revived. The
children wanted to play with it, but the duckling thought they were
going to ill-use him, and rushed in his fright into the milk pan, and
the milk spurted out all over the room. The woman shrieked and threw
up her hands; then it flew into the butter cask, and down into the
meal tub and out again. Just imagine what it looked like by this time!
The woman screamed and tried to hit it with the tongs, and the
children tumbled over one another in trying to catch it, and they
screamed with laughter. By good luck the door stood open, and the
duckling flew out among the bushes and the new fallen snow, and it lay
there thoroughly exhausted.
But it would be too sad to mention all the privation and misery it
had to go through during that hard winter. When the sun began to shine
warmly again the duckling was in the marsh, lying among the rushes;
the larks were singing, and the beautiful spring had come.
Then all at once it raised its wings, and they flapped with much
greater strength than before and bore him off vigorously. Before he
knew where he was he found himself in a large garden where the
apple-trees were in a full blossom, and the air was scented with
lilacs, the long branches of which overhung the indented shores of the
lake. Oh! the spring freshness was so delicious!
Just in front of him he saw three beautiful white swans advancing
towards him from a thicket; with rustling feathers they swam lightly
over the water. The duckling recognized the majestic birds, and he was
overcome by a strange melancholy.
"I will fly to them, the royal birds, and they will hack me to
pieces, because I, who am so ugly, venture to approach them! But it
won't matter; better be killed by them than be snapped at by the
ducks, pecked by the hens, or spurned by the henwife, or suffer so
much misery in the winter."
So he flew into the water, and swam towards the stately swans; they
saw him, and darted towards him with ruffled feathers.
"Kill me, oh, kill me!" said the poor creature, and bowing his head
towards the water he awaited his death. But what did he see reflected
in the transparent water?
He saw below him his own image; but he was no longer a clumsy, dark,
gray bird, ugly and ungainly. He was himself a swan! It does not
matter in the least having been born in a duckyard if only you come
out of a swan's egg!
He felt quite glad of all the misery and tribulation he had gone
through; he was the better able to appreciate his good-fortune now,
and all the beauty which greeted him. The big swans swam round and
round him, and stroked him with their bills.
Some little children came into the garden with corn and pieces of
bread, which they threw into the water; and the smallest one cried
out: "There is a new one!" The other children shouted with joy: "Yes,
a new one has come!" And they clapped their hands and danced about,
running after their father and mother. They threw the bread into the
water, and one and all said that "the new one was the prettiest; he
was so young and handsome." And the old swans bent their heads and did
homage before him.
[Illustration: Some little children threw pieces of bread into the
water]
He felt quite shy, and hid his head under his wing; he did not know
what to think; he was so very happy, but not at all proud; a good
heart never becomes proud. He thought of how he had been pursued and
scorned, and now he heard them all say that he was the most beautiful
of all beautiful birds. The lilacs bent their boughs right down into
the water before him, and the bright sun was warm and cheering, and he
rustled his feathers and raised his slender neck aloft, saying, with
exultation in his heart: "I never dreamed of so much happiness when I
was the Ugly Duckling!"