Auguste.
THE POLITICAL UGLY DUCKLING.
(Fragments of a Brummagem Fairy Tale.)
It was in a big town in the Midlands that the Ugly Duckling first chipped shell. "Cheek! Cheek! Cheek!" squeaked the youngster as he crept out. How big and ugly he was, to be sure! Not a bit like the other ducklings. In fact he was a portent, and a puzzle.
However, the ugly, grey-coated youngster, took to the water, and swam about like the rest. "He's every inch my own child, after all," said the old duck. "And really he's very pretty, when one comes to look at him attentively. Quack! quack!" added she; "now, come along, and I'll take you into high society. Now move on, and mind you cackle properly, and bow your head before that old duck yonder, who is the noblest born of them all. Now bend your neck, and say 'Quack!'"
But the Ugly Duckling was an odd bird, as well as an ill-favoured one, and gave much trouble and excited much jealousy in the duck-yard. He quacked indeed, but he would not bend his head or bow to the old duck properly.
"He remained too long in the egg-shell," mused the maternal bird; "and therefore his figure, like his manners, is not properly formed on the true duck model. But as he's a male duck it won't matter so much. I think he'll prove strong, and be able to fight his way through the world." Which was true.
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