"If he had yellow stockings like ours," said another duckling, "instead of red-topped boots."
"Stop your quacking," cried Mrs. Duck. "Did you hear what I said about waddling just now?"
"Yes," said the little ones, and then
She went on to explain:
"A well bred duck turns in his toes
As I do—try again."
Puss, Junior, turned in his toes exactly the way they did, which made them laugh; even Mrs. Duck chuckled. "Look out," she cried, "or Puss, Junior, will do it better than you."
"Thank you, ma'am," said Puss with a grin.
"Won't you try to do better?" said Mrs. Duck, turning to her brood with an anxious expression on her kind face.
"Yes," said the Ducklings, waddling on,
"That's better," said their mother;
"But well bred ducks walk in a row,
Straight, one behind the other."
"I wish I had a drum," cried Puss, "I'd beat time. We could make believe we were soldiers." But Mrs. Duck did not answer. "Do your best," she said to her little brood.