At last they all were hatched, and came out stretching their wings.
“How big the world is!” they said. “We certainly are glad to get out of those shells; it was so close and stuffy in them we could hardly breathe.” After that they all went into the barn yard to be introduced to the friends of their mother.
They were beautiful little ducks—all but one—and he was big and ugly and almost fell over when he walked.
“I am afraid he is a turkey,” said the old duck; but when they got to the duck pond he jumped in and swam off. The ugly duckling swam as well as any, and even dived under the water.
“No, he is not a turkey,” said the old duck, “for he swims very well. He must be a goose anyway,” and the old duck let it go at that.
When they came to the barn yard all the ducks came around to see the new family. Even the old Spanish duck, with a red rag around his foot, came up to say he was glad to see the old duck back again.
“But what an ugly duck that one is!” they all cried, and before the mother could prevent it, one duck bit him on the neck until the blood came.
“Let him alone!” cried his mother. “He is not doing you any harm. He may be ugly, but he is my duck, and you keep away!” So the ugly duck kept close to his mother, who, after all was quite ashamed of him.
Poor little ugly duckling! When his mother was not looking he was pushed and bitten by the other ducks until he was sore all over. The turkey gobbler swelled up and gobbled at him, and grew red in the face. The old rooster picked at him if he came anywhere near. His sisters and brothers kept out of his way because he was so big and awkward and ugly. Even the yard man kicked at him with his foot.