They did as they were bid, but the other ducks round about looked at them and said, quite loud: “Just look there! now we are to have that tribe! just as if there were not enough of us already, and, oh dear! how ugly that duckling is, we won’t stand him!” and a duck flew at him at once and bit him in the neck.
“Let him be,” said the mother; “he is doing no harm.”
“Very likely not, but he is so ungainly and queer,” said the biter, “he must be whacked.”
“They are handsome children mother has,” said the old duck with the rag round her leg; “all good looking except this one, and he is not a good specimen; it’s a pity you can’t make him over again.”
“That can’t be done, your grace,” said the mother duck; “he is not handsome, but he is a thorough good creature, and he swims as beautifully as any of the others; nay, I think I might venture even to add that I think he will improve as he goes on, or perhaps in time he may grow smaller! he was too long in the egg, and so he has not come out with a very good figure.” And then she patted his neck and stroked him down. “Besides, he is a drake,” said she; “so it does not matter so much. I believe he will be very strong, and I don’t doubt but he will make his way in the world.”
“The other ducklings are very pretty,” said the old duck. “Now make yourselves quite at home, and if you find the head of an eel you may bring it to me!”
After that they felt quite at home. But the poor duckling which had been the last to come out of the shell, and who was so ugly, was bitten, pushed about, and made fun of both by the ducks and the hens. “He is too big,” they all said; and the turkey-cock, who was born with his spurs on, and therefore thought himself quite an emperor, puffed himself up like a vessel in full sail, made for him, and gobbled and gobbled till he became quite red in the face. The poor duckling was at his wit’s end, and did not know which way to turn; he was in despair because he was so ugly and the butt of the whole duckyard.
So the first day passed, and afterwards matters grew worse and worse. The poor duckling was chased and hustled by all of them; even his brothers and sisters ill-used him, and they were always saying, “If only the cat would get hold of you, you hideous object!” Even his mother said, “I wish to goodness you were miles away.” The ducks bit him, the hens pecked him, and the girl who fed them kicked him aside.
Then he ran off and flew right over the hedge, where the little birds flew up into the air in a fright.
“That is because I am so ugly,” thought the poor duckling, shutting his eyes, but he ran on all the same. Then he came to a great marsh where the wild ducks lived; he was so tired and miserable that he stayed there the whole night.