At length[1], one shell cracked, and soon another, and from each came a duckling that lifted its head and cried “Peep, peep.”
“Quack, quack!” said the mother; and then they all tried to say it, too. They looked all about them[2] on every side at the tall green leaves. Their mother allowed them to look about as much as they liked, because green is good for the eyes.
“What a great world it is!” said the ducklings, when they found how much more room they had than when they were in the eggshell.
“Is this all the world?” said the mother. “No. Wait till you see the garden. It stretches down to the pastor’s field, though I never went there. Are you all here?” she continued. “No, not all; the largest egg still lies there, I see. I wonder how long. I’m really tired of it!”
And she sat down again.
“Well, and how are you today?” quacked an old duck who came to pay her a visit[3].
“Look, there’s one egg more. The shell is hard and does not break,” said the mother, who sat still upon her nest. “But just look at the others. What a pretty family! Are they not the prettiest little ducklings in the world? They are the image of their father! But he never comes to see me”.
“Let me see the egg that does not break,” said the old duck. “I think it’s a Guinea fowl’s egg[4]. The same thing happened to me once, and it gave me a lot of trouble. They are afraid of the water. I quacked and clucked, but all in vain[5]. Let me take a look at it. Yes, I am right; it’s a Guinea fowl, believe me. Take my advice and leave it where it is. Come to the water and teach the other children to swim.”
“I think I will sit a little while longer,” said the mother. “A day or two more won’t matter.”
“Very well,” said the old duck. She rose and went away.
At last the great egg broke, and the latest bird cried “Peep, peep,” when he crept forth from the shell. How big and ugly he was! The mother duck stared at him and did not know what to think.
“Really,” she said, “this is an enormous duckling, and it is not at all like the others. Is he really a Guinea fowl? Well, we shall see when we get to the water. He must go into the water. If he won’t, I’ll push him”.
On the next day the weather was delightful. The sun shone brightly on the green burdock leaves. The mother duck took her whole family down to the water and jumped in with a splash. “Quack, quack!” cried she, and one after another the little ducklings jumped in. The water closed over their heads, but they came up again in an instant and swam quite prettily. Their legs were paddling under them easily. The ugly gray duckling was also in the water, he was swimming with them.
“Oh,” said the mother, “that is not a Guinea fowl. See how well he uses his legs! How erect he holds himself! He is my own child, and he is not so very ugly after all, if you look at him properly. Quack, quack! Come with me now. I will take you into grand society and introduce you to the farmyard. But you must keep close to me[6]. Someone may tread upon you. Furthermore, beware of the cat!”
When they reached the farmyard, they heard a riot. Two families were fighting for an eel’s head. But, after all, the cat carried it away.
“See, children, that is the life,” said the mother duck. He was whetting her beak, she wanted the eel’s head, too. “Come, now, use your legs, and let me see how well you can behave. You must bow your heads prettily to that old duck yonder. She is the highest duck here and has Spanish blood. Do you see she has a red rag on her leg? It is something very grand and a great honor for a duck. It shows that every one is anxious not to lose her. Both man and beast can notice her. Come, now. A well-bred duckling spreads his feet wide apart, just like his father and mother. Now bend your necks and say ‘Quack!’”
The ducklings did it, but the other ducks stared, and said, “Look, here comes another brood! No room for them! And what a queer-looking bird one of them is; we don’t want him here!
And then one flew out and bit the poor duckling in the neck.
“Leave him alone,” said the mother; “he is not doing any harm”.
“Yes, but he is so big and ugly,” said the spiteful duck, “and therefore we must beat him. It will do him good.”
“The others are very pretty children,” said the old duck with the rag on her leg, “all but that one. Transform him; he is really ill-favored.”
“That is impossible, your grace,” replied the mother. “He is not pretty, but he has a very good heart. Moreover, he swims as well as the others or even better. I think he will grow up pretty, and perhaps be smaller. He was too long in the egg, and therefore his figure is not properly formed”.
Then she stroked his neck and smoothed the feathers and said:
“It is a drake, and drake may be not very beautiful. I think he will grow up strong and smart”.
“The other ducklings are graceful enough,” said the old duck. “Now make yourself at home[7], and if you find an eel’s head you can bring it to me”.
And so they made themselves comfortable. But everybody began to bite and push and beat the poor duckling who crept out of his shell last of all and looked so ugly. Not only the ducks but all the poultry.
“He is too big,” they all said; and the turkey cock, who had spurs and fancied himself really an emperor. The turkey cock puffed himself out like a vessel in full sail and flew at the duckling. He became quite red in the head with passion. At first, the poor little duckling did not know where to go, and was quite miserable. He was very ugly and the whole farmyard laughed at him.
So it went on from day to day; it got worse and worse. Everybody was driving the poor duckling away; even his brothers and sisters were unkind to him. They were saying:
“Ah, you ugly duckling! When will the cat eat you?”
And his mother was asking all the time: “Why were you born? What for?”
The ducks pecked him, the chickens beat him, and the girl who fed the poultry pushed him with her feet. So at last he ran away. He frightened the little birds in the hedge as he flew over the palings.
“They are afraid because I am so ugly,” he said.
So he ran farther, until he came out on a large moor. Wild ducks inhabited it. Here he remained the whole night. He was feeling very sorrowful.
In the morning, when the wild ducks rose in the air, they stared at their new comrade.
“What sort of a duck are you?” they all said and came round him.
He bowed to them politely, but he did not reply to their question.
“You are exceedingly ugly,” said the wild ducks; “but that will not matter if you do not want to marry one of our family.”
The poor duckling had no thoughts of marriage. All he wanted was permission to lie among the rushes and drink some of the water on the moor.
He was on the moor for two days, there came two wild geese, or rather goslings.
“Listen, friend,” said one of them to the duckling; “you are so ugly that we like you very well. Will you go with us and become a real bird? Not far from here is another moor, in which there are some wild geese. All of them are unmarried. It is a chance for you to get a wife”.
“Bang, bang”, sounded in the air, and the two wild geese fell dead among the rushes. The water was tinged with blood.
“Bang, bang”, echoed far and wide in the distance, and whole flocks of wild geese rose up from the rushes.
The sound continued from every direction. The sportsmen surrounded the moor. Some were even