IV

THE rain rained itself out in the night, and the next morning, when the

little ducklings awoke, they found, to their glee, that the sun was

shining bright and clear. That meant they could go down to the river

for a swim as usual.

Very soon after breakfast the whole family started for the river.

The ducklings ran ahead, while Mother Duck waddled after them. Only

Curly-Tail stayed by her mother’s side, walking beside her, and holding

to a fold of her skirt. She always liked to be close to mother.

“Don’t go in the water until I get there, children,” Mother Duck called

after the others as they ran ahead.

“No, mother, we won’t,” answered the ducklings.

Squdge was a large, stout, active duckling. He could run faster than

any of the others, and so he was the first to reach the river bank.

There he began looking about for any tid-bits he could find in the way

of a fat beetle, a grass-hopper or a tadpole. He was a very greedy

duckling. Often and often his mother was obliged to tell him not to be

so greedy, but to share things with his little brothers and sisters,

but he was not always willing to do this.

Now as he peered about with his bright black eyes he suddenly espied

near the mud-bank a little round hole, and just showing over the edge

of the hole was what looked like the tail of a particularly fine, fat

worm.

“Oh, ho!” thought Squdge to himself. “Here’s a fine fat morsel. I’ll

just pull it out and eat it before any of the others come to share it

with me.”

With his broad little beak he made a dive at the tail, and pinching it

tight he began to pull.

[Illustration: She gave one to Fluffy and one to Curly-tail]

Now the tail did not belong to a worm at all, but to a little brown

snake that had been lying there in the hole (which was its home) fast

asleep.

When it felt some unseen thing nipping its tail and holding it, it

was terribly frightened. It began to pull and struggle, trying to get

loose, and Squdge kept pulling and trying to get it out. It must be a

wonderfully fine fat worm to pull so hard, he thought, and the more it

pulled the more determined he was to have it.

Before he could get it out, however, Queek and the others saw him, and

up they ran, eager for a share of anything he might have caught.

They, too, seized hold of the tail and began to pull. All of them

together were too strong for the snake. It had to come. Out they

dragged it, out and out, longer and longer. Last of all its head

slipped out from the hole. Then it twisted around, hissing with fright.

When the ducklings saw what they had caught—that it was not a worm

but a SNAKE—they were so terrified that they fell over backward on the

ground and lay there, afraid to move. They dared not even look to see

whether the snake had gone or was making ready to swallow them. If they

had only known it, it had been just as much frightened as they, and as

soon as it was free it had slipped away into the water to nurse its

pinched tail in quiet.

They were still lying there when their mother and Curly-Tail reached

the place. At first Mother Duck did not know what had happened to them;

she was afraid they were hurt or sick. But when she had helped them to

their feet, and found they were only frightened and not hurt at all she

began to laugh at them.

“But now you see, children,” she said more seriously, “what comes of

being greedy. If you hadn’t been in such a hurry to catch the worm and

gobble it down you would have waited till I came, and I could soon have

told you it was not a worm you had found, but a snake.”

[Illustration: Around from the other side of the burdock came a great

grey feathery creature]

The little ducks felt quite ashamed of themselves. They felt they had

acted in a very silly and greedy manner. Moreover, they felt quite sad,

for their mother said they were so hot and frightened she could not

allow them to go into the water just yet. They would have to sit on the

bank for a while and cool off.

Then she took Curly-Tail down to a shallow place in the river and

caught a nice little tadpole for her, while her brothers and sisters

had to sit in a row along the bank and look on.

It was not very long, however, before their mother called to them that

they could come, and the little ducklings ran joyously down the slope

and slipped off into the water. There they paddled up and down, and

stood on their heads, and ran water races with each other as merrily as

ever, their adventure with the snake quite forgotten.

V

WHEN the ducklings stayed at home instead of going to the river (that

was when it was too cold and stormy for them to swim) they had a number

of toys to play with. Squdge and Queek had a little cart, and they had

a tame beetle that they had trained to pull it. Sometimes they gave the

dolls a ride in the cart. There were two dolls; one belonged to Fluffy,

and one belonged to Curly-Tail. Mrs. Muskrat had made the dolls for

them;—the same old muskrat who had made the picnic basket for their

mother. The dolls were made of two old gnarled pieces of root that Mrs.

Muskrat had gnawed and shaped with her sharp teeth until they looked

just like two little wooden ducklings.

[Illustration: The two fowls were pleased to see each other]

Fluffy and Curly-Tail loved these two little duckling dolls better

than anything they had; they dressed and undressed them, and took them

to bed with them at night, and sometimes even took them down to the

river with them.

The other ducklings often wished they had dolls, too, but Mrs. Muskrat

had only made the two, one for Fluffy, and one for Curly-Tail. The way

she had happened to make the dolls for them and not for the others was

this:

One day the duck family had gone down to the river for their usual

swim, and afterward Mother Duck felt very sleepy. She sat down on the

bank in the warm sun, and all the little ducklings sat around her, and

blinked and blinked, and after a while they all went to sleep. The

ducklings were the first to waken. They opened their eyes and stirred

about, and presently they said, “Mother, may we go up the river bank a

little way?” For they were tired of staying in one place.

Mother Duck was too sleepy to do more than open her eyes a tiny crack.

“Yes; only don’t go too far, and don’t go in the water.”

The little ducks promised they wouldn’t, and then they ran merrily away

together.

Soon they came to a place where the bank was quite high and overhung

the water. Here they began to amuse themselves by pushing bits of mud

and pebbles over into the water to make a splash.

Presently they heard something stirring and rustling down there

beneath. They stopped and listened and looked. Squdge and Pin-Toes even

crept to the edge of the bank and leaned far over trying to see what

was there. Fluffy was afraid if they did not take care they might fall

into the river.

[Illustration: Instead of taking it Bright Eyes looked quite disgusted]

Suddenly out from under the bank swam old Mrs. Muskrat. Her house was

just exactly under where the ducklings were standing, though they had

not known it. She had been busy finishing her housework and now she

was starting out on some errand she had down the river. She always

swam when she wanted to go anywhere. She could go more quickly and

safely that way than by land. She had on a calico dress and a white

apron, and a pair of big spectacles were on her nose. (All her clothes

were waterproof, and shed off the water just the way a duck’s feathers

do.) She looked so funny with her nose almost under water and her

dress bunching up, and her tail dragging behind her, that some of the

ducklings began to laugh.

“Oh don’t laugh,” begged Fluffy, who was a very polite little duckling.

“She might hear you.”

“No she won’t; she can’t hear us down there,” said Queek.

“I don’t care whether she does or not,” cried Squdge, “she’s so funny

looking.” And he laughed till he almost fell over.

Then all the other ducklings began to laugh, too;—all except Fluffy and

Curly-Tail. Fluffy and Curly-Tail did not laugh. They were troubled to

think their brothers and sister could behave so rudely, and to an older

animal. To be sure Mrs. Muskrat never looked round to see who they

were, and that was some comfort.

Now as it happened the old muskrat did not have to look round in order

to see them, though the ducklings did not know that. When the light

shone on her spectacles it made them just like looking-glasses, and

she could see in them what was happening behind her. She saw, in her

spectacles, that Squdge was laughing and pointing at her. She saw the

others laughing, too, all except Fluffy and Curly-Tail, and she saw

that those two did not laugh, but looked worried and sorry. She saw all

this, but she did not take any notice of it. She just swam quietly on

down the river and out of sight.

But two or three days afterward an old toad knocked at the hollow tree

and said he had a message for Mrs. Duck.

[Illustration: The chicks huddled together on the leaf while the

ducklings pulled it]

This toad had been living down by the river for some time, but it was

so damp there that it had given him rheumatism, so he had determined to

come up and live in the wood where it was dryer.

Mrs. Muskrat had heard of this, and so she asked him, as he would be

going past the hollow tree to leave a message there for her.

This was the message. She wanted Mother Duck to send the two little

ducklings who hadn’t laughed at her the other day down to see her. It

was about something very important.

“That’s me and Curly-Tail, mother! We were the ones who didn’t laugh,”

cried Fluffy. “But what do you s’pose she wants with us, mother?”

“I don’t know, but you had better go and see.”

The two little ducklings were not very anxious to do this. They felt

very shy about going all alone down the river to make a visit.

“_I’ll_ go,” said Squdge. “I don’t mind.”

“No indeed you won’t go,” said the mother. “You’ve been too naughty.

Mrs. Muskrat doesn’t want to see any little duckling that has been as

rude to her as you have been.” At last she told Fluffy and Curly-Tail

that she herself would go part of the way with them.

She took them down within sight of the muskrat’s house, and then she

sent them on alone.

Fluffy and Curly-Tail walked on very slowly, often stopping to look

back at their mother as she stood there watching them.

“Will you knock when we get there, Curly-Tail?” asked Fluffy.

“No, you knock.”

“No, I don’t like to; you knock.”

But as it turned out neither of them had to knock at Mrs. Muskrat’s

door, for when they reached her house she was on the lookout for them.

She came out smiling, and looking quite friendly and pleasant in spite

of her long rat teeth.

[Illustration: The ducklings stood looking on in dismay]

“So you are the two little ducklings who didn’t laugh at me the other

day,” she said. “That’s right! That’s right! I like little animals when

they are polite and respectful. Now I have a present for you that I

think you’ll like.”

She went back into the house, and when she came out again she carried

the two little duckling dolls. “Here; these are for you,” she said, and

she gave one to Fluffy and one to Curly-Tail.

The little ducklings could hardly believe their eyes. They had never

seen anything so cunning and pretty before. “But they’re not for _us_?”

they cried. “Not really?”

“Yes they are,” said Mrs. Muskrat, smiling, and looking almost as

pleased as they.

The two little ducklings hardly knew how to thank her enough. Then they

were eager to show the dolls to their mother. They said good-bye to the

muskrat, and ran back to where Mother Duck was waiting for them, “Look,

mother! Look! Look!” they cried.

Mrs. Duck took the dolls and examined them.

“Why, yes, they are very beautiful,” she said. “Wasn’t Mrs. Muskrat

good to give you such wonderful presents. You must be very careful not

to break them.”

“Oh, yes, we will! We will!” cried the happy little ducklings.

When they got back to the tree, and the others saw the beautiful

presents Mrs. Muskrat had given them they wished they hadn’t laughed at

her either; then perhaps she would have given them dolls too. But it

was too late for wishing that now.

[Illustration: The old duck carried the chick safely over to her

mother]