The Ugly Duckling

It was lovely summer weather in the country, and the golden corn, the green oats, and the haystacks piled up in the meadows looked beautiful. The stork, walking about on his long red legs, chattered in the Egyptian language, which he had learned from his mother. The cornfields and meadows were surrounded by large forests, with deep pools in their midst. It was, indeed, enjoyable to walk in the country. In a sunny spot stood a pleasant old farmhouse close by a deep river, and from the house down to the waterside grew great burdock leaves, so high that a little child could stand upright under the tallest of them. The spot was as wild as the center of a thick wood. In this snug retreat sat the Mother Duck on her nest, watching for her young ones to hatch; she was beginning to get tired of her task, for the little ones were a long time coming out of their shells, and she seldom had any visitors. The other ducks much preferred to swim in the river than to climb the slippery banks and sit under a burdock leaf to gossip with her. At last one shell cracked, and then another, and from each egg came a living creature that lifted its head and cried, “Peep, peep.” The mother called to them, and then they all called back as well as they could, and looked about them on every side at the large green leaves. Their mother let them look as much as they liked, because green is good for the eyes. “How large the world is,” said the young ducks, when they found how much more room they had now than while they were inside the eggshell. “Do you imagine this is the whole world?” asked the mother. “Wait till you have seen the garden; it stretches far beyond that to the parson’s field, but I have never ventured that far. Are you all out?” she continued, rising. “No, I declare, the largest egg is still there. I wonder how long this is to last. I am quite tired of it;” and she sat down on the nest again.