The Orange Fairy Book

ellow, the oats were green, the hay was dry and delicious to roll in, and from the old ruined house which nobody lived in, down to the edge

puzzled about that egg, and how it came to be so different from the rest. Other birds might have thought that when the duck went down in the morning and evening to the water to stretch her legs in a good swim, some lazy mother might have b

the morning and evening that were necessary for health. But at length she grew tired of sitting there all day. ‘Surely eggs take longer hatching than they did,’ she said to herself; and she pined for a little amusement also. Still, she knew that if she left h

of that day. Next morning she was rewarded by noticing cracks in the whole five eggs, and by midday two little yellow heads were poking out from the shells. This encouraged her so much that, after breaking the shells with her

n; so she pushed the rest out over the side, and felt delighted to have some company to talk to till the big egg hatched. But day after day went on

o her neighbour who had called in to pay her a visit. ‘Why I co

oung, they tricked me to sitting on a brood of turkey’s eggs myself, and when they were hatched the crea

hours, I will just leave it alone and teach the rest of them to swim properly and to find their own food. I really can’

hought she saw a tiny crack in the upper part of the shell. Filled with hope, she went back to her duties, though she could hardly sleep all night for excitement. When she w

u won’t need any teaching when you are once in the water,’ she told him, with a glance of surprise at the dull brown which covered his back,

t is not a young turkey, certainly,’ whispered she in confidence to the mother, ‘for though it is lean and skinny,

bts of its loveliness. ‘Of course, when you see it by itself it is all right, though it is di

ard, where a very old duck was sitting, who was t

ng her head in the direction of the old lady, ‘and keep your legs well apart, as you

ments of their mother, and the old lady was quite pleased with them; but

ing quite as ugly as that great tall creature? He is a disgrace to any brood. I shall go and c

the first time he had felt any pain, an

cely, ‘or I will send for his fa

ough the duckling did not understand the meaning of the words, he felt he was being blamed, a

ifferent from these beautiful darlings.

d, and did not know where to look, but

he swims better, and is very strong; I am sure he

yone when they thought his mother was not looking. Even the turkey-cock, who was so big, never passed him without mocking words, and his broth

der cover of the burdock leaves scrambled on by the bank of the canal, till he reached a wide grassy moor, full of soft marshy places where the reeds grew. Here he lay down, but he was too tired and too frighten

f ours, unless you wish to marry one of our daughters, and that we should not allow.’ And the duckling answ

er of the moorland pool, till he felt himself quite strong again. He wished he might stay were he was for eve

rs caught sight of him as they were having their eve

-morrow we think of trying another, where the lakes are

nd the words were hardly out of his mouth, when ‘Pif! pah

in the rushes flew into the air, and

re he got there he met a huge creature on four legs, which he afterwards knew to be a dog, who stood and gazed at him with a long red tongue hanging out of his mouth. The d

‘Well, that is a great mercy.’ And he curled himself up i

me, and there were only stars to see

e, which seemed too tumbledown for the stones to hold together many hours longer. Even the door only hung upon one hinge, and as the only light in the room sprang from a tiny fire, the duckling edged h

he old woman, who passed all her days in spinning yarn, which she sold at the nearest town, loved both the cat and the hen as he

rembling before them, with his eye on the door ready to escape at any moment. They did not

ked the hen. And the d

which the hen turned her ba

pleased?’ said she. And again the duckling had to admit that he co

t straight off to the old

y said. ‘It calls itself a duckling; but it can neit

It is all nonsense about it not laying eggs. Anyway, we

ggs happened at all. Then the sun came out, and the air grew soft, and the duckling grew tired of being in a hut,

asked the hen; and t

t think how delicious it is to put your head u

‘And I don’t think the cat would like it either.’ And the cat

water,’ repeated the duck. And the cat and the

ell the

spite of himself, he could not help a thrill of joy when he was out in the air and water once more, and cared little for the rude glances of the creatures he met. For a while he was quite happy and content; but soon

fallen during the night, and their long necks with yellow bills were stretched southwards, for they were going — they did not quite know whither — but to a land where the sun shone all day. Oh, if he only could have gone with them! But that was not possible, of course; a

er to say that he never was warm at all; and at last, after one bitter night, his legs moved so slowly that the ice crept

is work, and saw in a moment what had happened. He had on thick wooden shoes, and he went and stamped so hard on the ice that it

been since he had left the old woman’s cottage. They were kind little children, and wanted to play with him; but, alas! the poor fellow had never played in his life, and thought they wanted to tease him, and flew straight into

fter, the sun hotter, the birds sang, and the flowers once more appeared in the grass. When he stood up, he felt different, somehow, from what he had done before he fell asleep among the reeds to which he had w

it was made up of apple blossoms growing beside a cottage whose garden ran down to the banks of the canal. He fluttered slowly to the ground and paused for a few minutes under a thicket of syringas, and while he was gazing ab

hem than suffer all I have suffered from cold and hunger, and from the ducks and fowls who should ha

directly they saw him coming some of the younger ones swam out to meet him with cries of welcome, which again the duckling hardly understo

now why I was ever hatched, for I am too ugly to live.’ And a

s, and, without thinking, he looked for the dull grey body and the awkward skinny nec

eathers are whiter and his beak more golden than the rest.’ And when he heard that, the duckling thought that it was worth while having und

rsen.]