‘That cannot be, please your highness,’ said the mother. ‘Certainly he is not handsome, but he is a very good child, and swims as well as the others, indeed rather better. I think he will grow like the others all in good time, and perhaps will look smaller. He stayed so long in the egg-shell, that is the cause of the difference,’ and she scratched the duckling’s neck, and stroked his whole body. ‘Besides,’ added she, ‘he is a drake; I think he will be very strong, therefore it does not matter so much; he will fight his way through.’
‘The other ducks are very pretty,’ said the old duck, ‘pray make yourselves at home, and if you find an eel’s head you can bring it to me.’
And accordingly they made themselves at home.
But the poor little duckling, who had come last out of its egg-shell, and who was so ugly, was bitten, pecked, and teased by both ducks and hens. ‘It is so large,’ said they all. And the turkey-cock, who had come into the world with spurs on, and therefore fancied he was an emperor, puffed himself up like a ship in full sail, and marched up to the duckling quite red with passion. The poor little thing scarcely knew what to do; he was quite distressed, because he was so ugly, and because he was the jest of the poultry-yard.
HE CAME TO A WIDE MOOR
So passed the first day, and afterwards matters grew worse and worse; the poor duckling was scorned by all. Even his brothers and sisters behaved unkindly, and were constantly saying, ‘The cat fetch thee, thou nasty creature!’ The mother said, ‘Ah, if thou wert only far away!’ The ducks bit him, the hens pecked him, and the girl who fed the poultry kicked him. He ran over the hedge; the little birds in the bushes were terrified. ‘That is because I am so ugly,’ thought the duckling, shutting his eyes, but he ran on. At last he came to a wide moor, where lived some wild ducks; here he lay the whole night, so tired and so comfortless. In the morning the wild ducks flew up, and perceived their new companion. ‘Pray, who are you?’ asked they; and our little duckling turned himself in all directions, and greeted them as politely as possible.
‘You are really uncommonly ugly,’ said the wild ducks; ‘however that does not matter to us, provided you do not marry into our families.’ Poor thing! he had never thought of marrying; he only begged permission to lie among the reeds, and drink the water of the moor.
There he lay for two whole days—on the third day there came two wild geese, or rather ganders, who had not been long out of their egg-shells, which accounts for their impertinence.
‘Hark ye,’ said they, ‘you are so ugly that we like you infinitely well; will you come with us, and be a bird of passage? On another moor, not far from this, are some dear, sweet, wild geese, as lovely creatures as have ever said “hiss, hiss.” You are truly in the way to make your fortune, ugly as you are.’