Now the cat was the master of the house, and the hen was the mistress, and they used always to say, ‘We and the World,’ for they imagined themselves to be not only the half of the world, but also by far the better half. The duckling thought it was possible to be of a different opinion, but that the hen would not allow.
‘Can you lay eggs?’ asked she.
‘No.’
‘Well, then, hold your tongue.’
And the cat said, ‘Can you set up your back? can you purr?’
‘No.’
‘Well, then, you should have no opinion when reasonable persons are speaking.’
So the duckling sat alone in a corner, and was in a very bad humour; however, he happened to think of the fresh air and bright sunshine, and these thoughts gave him such a strong desire to swim again that he could not help telling it to the hen.
‘What ails you?’ said the hen. ‘You have nothing to do, and, therefore, brood over these fancies; either lay eggs, or purr, then you will forget them.’
‘But it is so delicious to swim,’ said the duckling, ‘so delicious when the waters close over your head, and you plunge to the bottom.’