It was a lovely summer weather in the country,
and the golden corn,
the green oats,
and the haystacks piled up in the meadows
looked beautiful.
















































The stork walking about on his long red legs
chattered in the Egyptian language,
which he had learnt from his mother.






























The corn-fields and meadows were surrounded by
large forests,
in the midst of which were deep pools.




































It was, indeed,
delightful to walk about in the country.


































In a sunny spot stood a pleasant old
farm-house close by a deep river,
and from the house down to the water side grew great burdock leaves, so high,
that under the tallest of them a little child could stand upright.



















The spot was as wild as the centre of a thick wood.

In this snug retreat sat a duck on her nest,
watching for her young brood to hatch;




































She was beginning to get tired of her task,
for the little ones were a long time coming out of their shells, and she seldom had any visitors.



























The other ducks liked much better to swim about in the river,
than to climb the slippery banks and sit under a burdock leaf,
to have a gossip with her.


































At length one shell cracked,


















and then another,






























and from each egg came a living creature that lifted its head and cried, “Peep, peep.”





































“Quack, quack,” said the mother,


















































and then,
they all quacked as well as they could,
and looked about them on every side at the large green leaves.





































Their mother allowed them to look as much as
they liked,
because green is good for the eyes.

“How large the world is,”
said the young ducks,
when they found how much more room they now had than while they were inside the egg-shell.



















































“Do you imagine this is the whole world?”
asked the mother;




























































“Wait till you have seen the garden;
it stretches far beyond that to the parson’s field, but I have never ventured to such a distance.
























































Are you all out?”
she continued, rising;


































“No, I declare, the largest egg lies
there still.















































I wonder how long this is to last,
I am quite tired of it;”
and she seated herself again on the nest.

“Well, how are you getting on?”
asked an old duck, who paid her a visit.
















































“One egg is not hatched yet,” said the duck, “
it will not break.
But just look at all the others,
are they not the prettiest little ducklings you ever saw?




















































They are the image of their father,
who is so unkind, he never comes to see.”




















“Let me see the egg that will not break,”
said the duck;
“I have no doubt it is a turkey’s egg.














































I was persuaded to hatch some once,
and after all my care and trouble with the young ones, they were afraid of the water.





















































I quacked and clucked, but all to no purpose.
I could not get them to venture in.

















Let me look at the egg.























Yes, that is a turkey’s egg;
take my advice, leave it where it is and teach the other children to swim.”






















































“I think I will sit on it a little while longer,”
said the duck;
“as I have sat so long already, a few days will be nothing.”
“Please yourself,” said the old duck, and she went away.
















































At last the large egg broke,
and a young one crept forth crying, “Peep, peep.” It was very large and ugly.
The duck stared at it and exclaimed, “It is very large and not at all like the others.
I wonder if it really is a turkey.


































































We shall soon find it out,
however when we go to the water.
It must go in, even if I have to push it myself.”

On the next day the weather was delightful,
and the sun shone brightly on the green burdock
leaves,
so the mother duck took her young brood 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 about quite prettily with their legs paddling under them as easily as possible,
and the ugly duckling was also in the water swimming with them.




























































“Oh,” said the mother, “that is not a turkey;
how well he uses his legs,
and how upright 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 or you may be trodden upon;
and, above all, beware of the cat.”







































When they reached the farmyard,
there was a great disturbance,
two families were fighting for an eel’s head,
which, after all, was carried off by the cat.




































“See, children, that is the way of the world,”
said the mother duck, whetting her beak,
for she would have liked the eel’s head
herself.


































“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 born of them all,
and has Spanish blood, therefore, she is well off.

Don’t you see she has a red flag tied to her leg,
which is something very grand,
and a great honor for a duck;
it shows that every one is anxious not to lose her, as she can be recognized both by man and beast. Come, now, don’t turn your toes,
a well-bred duckling spreads his feet wide apart, just like his father and mother,
in this way; now bend your neck, and say ‘quack.’”

































The ducklings did as they were bid,
but the other duck stared, and said,
“Look, here comes another brood,
as if there were not enough of us already!
and what a queer looking object one
of them is; we don’t want him here,”
and then one flew out and bit him in the neck.

“Let 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 he must be turned out.”
















































“The others are very pretty children,”
said the old duck, with the rag on her leg,
“all but that one;
I wish his mother could improve him a little.”

“That is impossible, your grace,”
replied the mother;
“he is not pretty; but he has a very good
disposition, and swims as well or even better than the others.
I think he will grow up pretty,
and perhaps be smaller; he has remained too long in the egg, and therefore his figure is not
properly formed;”
and then she stroked his neck and smoothed the feathers, saying,
“It is a drake, and therefore not of so much consequence.
I think he will grow up strong, and able to
take care of himself.”















































“The other ducklings are graceful enough,”
said the old duck.
“Now make yourself at home,
and if you can find an eel’s head,
you can bring it to me.”