“I wouldn’t like a hen for a mother,” cried Squdge; “but I would like to see a farmyard, and to hear a dog bark, and a cow moo. Do they make as big a noise as thunder? Will you take me there some time, mother?”
But Mother Duck told him, no indeed. It would be very dangerous to go back to the farmyard. If the farmer and his wife saw the ducklings they might catch them and shut them up in a coop, and never let them get away again.
The thought of that frightened the other ducklings—only Squdge said stoutly, “She couldn’t catch me! I can peck too hard and run too fast, and I wish you would take me there some time, mother, just to see it all.”
Mother Duck made no answer, for looking up she saw that rain-clouds were gathering over head.
“Hurry, children, hurry,” she cried. “There’s going to be a storm, and we must get home before it begins.”
Down they scrambled in a great hurry, and started off through the woods as fast as they could, and they made such good time that they reached the hollow tree just as the first great drops began to fall.
They were all out of breath and rather tired, especially Curly-Tail, but as their mother said, that did not really matter as long as they had escaped a wetting.
Pinching it tight he began to pull