The Junior Classics V1, by Willam Patten

The Ugly Duckling

By Hans Christian Andersen

IT was so glorious out in the country; it was summer; the cornfields

were yellow, the oats were green, the hay had been put up in stacks in

the green meadows, and the stork went about on his long red legs, and

chattered Egyptian, for this was the language he had learned from his

good mother.  All around the fields and meadows were great forests, and

in the midst of these forests lay deep lakes.  Yes, it was right

glorious out in the country.  In the midst of the sunshine there lay an

old farm, with deep canals about it, and from the wall down to the

water grew great burdocks, so high that little children could stand

upright under the loftiest of them.  It was just as wild there as in

the deepest wood, and here sat a Duck upon her nest; she had to hatch

her ducklings; but she was almost tired out before the little ones

came; and then she so seldom had visitors.  The other ducks liked

better to swim about in the canals than to run up to sit down under a

burdock, and cackle with her.

At last one egg-shell after another burst open.  "Piep!  piep!" it

cried, and in all the eggs there were little creatures that stuck out

their heads.

"Quack!  quack!" they said; and they all came quacking out as fast as

they could, looking all round them under the green leaves; and the

mother let them look as much as they chose, for green is good for the

eye.

"How wide the world is!" said all the young ones, for they certainly

had much more room now than when they were in the eggs.

"D'ye think this is all the world?" said the mother.  "That stretches

far across the other side of the garden, quite into the parson's field;

but I have never been there yet.  I hope you are all together," and she

stood up.  "No, I have not all.  The largest egg still lies there.  How

long is that to last?  I am really tired of it." And she sat down

again.

"Well, how goes it?" asked an old Duck who had come to pay her a visit.

"It lasts a long time with that one egg," said the Duck who sat there.

"It will not burst.  Now, only look at the others; are they not the

prettiest little ducks one could possibly see?  They are all like their

father: the rogue, he never comes to see me."

"Let me see the egg which will not burst," said the old visitor.  "You

may be sure it is a turkey's egg.  I was once cheated in that way, and

had much anxiety and trouble with the young ones, for they are afraid

of the water.  Must I say it to you, I could not get them to venture

in.  I quacked and I clacked, but it was no use.  Let me see the egg.

Yes, that's a turkey's egg.  Let it lie there, and teach the other

children to swim."

"I think I will sit on it a little longer," said the Duck.  "I've sat

so long now that I can sit a few days more."

"Just as you please," said the old Duck; and she went away.

At last the great egg burst.  "Piep!  piep!" said the little one, and

crept forth, it was very large and very ugly.  The Duck looked at it.

"It's a very large duckling," said she; "none of the others look like

that: can it really be a turkey chick?  Well, we shall soon find out.

It must go into the water, even if I have to thrust it in myself."

The next day, it was bright, beautiful weather; the sun shone on all

the green trees.  The Mother Duck went down to the canal with all her

family.  Splash!  she jumped into the water.  "Quack!  quack!" she

said, and one duckling after another plunged in.  The water closed over

their heads, but they came up in an instant, and swam capitally; their

legs went of themselves, and they were all in the water.  The ugly gray

Duckling swam with them.

"No, it's not a turkey," said she; "look how well it can use its legs,

and how straight it holds itself.  It is my own child!  On the whole

it's quite pretty, if one looks at it rightly.  Quack!  quack!  come

with me, and I'll lead you out into the great world, and present you in

the duckyard; but keep close to me, so that no one may tread on you,

and take care of the cats!"

And so they came into the duckyard.  There was a terrible riot, going

on in there, for two families were quarreling about an eel's head, and

the cat got it after all.

"See, that's how it goes in the world!" said the Mother Duck; and she

whetted her beak, for she too wanted the eel's head.  "Only use your

legs," she said.  "See that you can bustle about, and bow your heads

before the old Duck yonder.  She's the grandest of all here; she's of

Spanish blood-that's why she's so fat; and d'ye see she has a red rag

round her leg; that's something particularly fine, and the greatest

distinction a duck can enjoy; it signifies that one does not want to

lose her, and that she's to be known by the animals and by men too.

Shake yourselves-don't turn in your toes; a well-brought-up duck turns

its toes quite out, just like father and mother-so!  Now bend your

necks and say 'Quack!'"

And they did so: but the other ducks round about looked at them, and

said quite boldly:

"Look there!  now we're to have these hanging on, as if there were not

enough of us already! And- fie!-how that Duckling yonder looks; we

won't stand that!"  And one duck flew up at it, and bit it in the neck.

"Let it alone," said the mother: "it does no harm to anyone."

"Yes, but it's too large and peculiar," said the Duck who had bitten

it; "and therefore it must be put down."

"Those are pretty children that the mother has there," said the old

Duck with the rag round her leg.  They're all pretty but that one; that

was rather unlucky.  I wish she could bear it over again."

"That cannot be done, my lady," replied the Mother Duck.  "It is not

pretty, but it has a really good disposition, and swims as well as any

other; yes, I may even say it, swims better.  I think it will grow up

pretty, and become smaller in time; it has lain too long in the egg,

and therefore is not properly shaped."  And then she pinched it in the

neck, and smoothed its feathers.  Moreover it is a drake," she said,

"and therefore it is not so much consequence.  I think he will be very

strong: he makes his way already."

"The other duckling's are graceful enough," said the old Duck.  "Make

yourself at home; and if you find an eel's head, you may bring it to

me."

And now they were at home.  But the poor Duckling which had crept last

out of the egg, and looked so ugly, was bitten and pushed and jeered,

as much by the ducks as by the chickens.

"It is too big!" they all said.  And the turkey cock, who had been born

with spurs, and therefore thought himself an emperor, blew himself up

like a ship in full sail, and bore straight down upon it; then he

gobbled and grew quite red in the face.  The poor Duckling did not know

where it should stand or walk; it was quite melancholy because it

looked ugly, and was the butt of the whole duckyard.

So it went on the first day; and afterward it became worse and worse.

The poor Duckling was hunted about by everyone: even its brothers and

sisters were quite angry with it, and said: "If the cat would only

catch you, you ugly creature!"  And the mother said: "If you were only

far away!"  And the ducks hit it, and the chickens beat it, and the

girl who had to feed the poultry kicked at it with her foot.

Then it ran and flew over the fence, and the little birds in the bushes

flew up in fear.

"That is because I am so ugly!" thought the Duckling; and it shut its

eyes, but flew on further; and so it came out into the great moor,

where the wild ducks lived.  Here it lay the whole night long; and it

was weary and downcast.

Toward morning the wild chicks flew up, and looked at their new

companion.

"What sort of a one are you?" they asked; and the Duckling turned in

every direction, and bowed as well as it could.  You are remarkably

ugly!" said the Wild Ducks.  "But that is nothing to us, so long as you

do not marry into our family."

Poor thing!  it certainly did not think of marrying, and only hoped to

obtain leave to lie among the reeds and drink some of the swamp water.

Thus it lay two whole days; then came thither two wild geese, or,

properly speaking, two wild ganders.  It was not long since each had

crept out of an egg, and that's why they were so saucy.

"Listen, comrade," said one of them.  "You're so ugly that I like you.

Will you go with us, and become a bird of passage?  Near here, in

another moor, there are a few sweet lovely geese, all unmarried, and

all able to say 'Rap?'  You've a chance of' making your fortune, ugly

as you are."

"Piff!  paff!" resounded through the air; and the two ganders fell down

dead in the swamp, and the water became blood red.  "Piff paff!" it

sounded again, and the whole flock of wild geese rose up from the

reeds.  And then there was another report.  A great hunt was going on.

The sportsmen were lying in wait all round the moor, and some were even

sitting up in the branches of the trees, which spread far over the

reeds.  The blue smoke rose up like clouds among the dark trees, and

was wafted far away across the water; and the hunting dogs came-splash,

splash!-into the swamp, and the rushes and the reeds bent down on every

side.  That was a fright for the poor Duckling!  It turned its head,

and put it under its wing; but at that moment a frightful great dog

stood close by the Duckling.  His tongue hung far out of his mouth, and

his eyes gleamed horrible and ugly; he thrust out his nose close

against the Duckling, showed his Sharp teeth, and-splash, splash!-on he

went, without seizing it.

"O, Heaven be thanked!" sighed the Duckling.  "I am so ugly, that even

the dog does not like to bite me!"

And so it lay quite quiet, while the shots rattled through the reeds

and gun after gun was fired.  At last, late in the day, all was still;

but the poor Duckling did not dare to rise up; it waited several hours

before it looked round, and then hastened away out of the moor as fast

it could.  It ran on over field and meadow; there was such a storm

raging that it was difficult to get from one place to another.

Toward evening the Duck came to a little miserable peasant's hut.  This

hut was so dilapidated that it did not itself know on which side it

should fall; and that's why it remained standing.  The storm whistled

round the Duckling in such a way that the poor creature was obliged to

sit down, to stand against it; and the wind blew worse and worse.  Then

the Duckling noticed that one of the hinges of the door had given way,

and the door hung so slanting that the Duckling could slip through the

crack into the room; and that is what it did.

Here lived a woman, with her Cat and her Hen.  And the Cat, whom she

called Sonnie, could arch his back and purr, he could even give out

sparks; but for that one had to stroke his fur the wrong way.  The Hen

had quite little short legs, and therefore she was called Chickabiddy

Shortshanks; she laid good eggs, and the woman loved her as her own

child.

In the morning the strange Duckling was at once noticed, and the Cat

began to purr and the Hen to cluck.

"What's this?" said the woman, and looked all round; but she could not

see well, and therefore she thought the Duckling was a fat duck that

had strayed.  "This is a rare prize!" she said, "Now I shall have

ducks' eggs.  I hope it is not a drake.  We must try that."

And so the Duckling was admitted on trial for three weeks; but no eggs

came.  And the Cat was master of the house, and the Hen was the lady,

and always said "We and the world!" for she thought they were half the

world, and by far the better half.  The Duckling thought one might have

a different opinion, but the Hen would not allow it.

"Can you lay eggs?" she asked.

"No."

"Then will you hold your tongue!"

And the Cat said, "Can you curve your back, and purr, and give out

sparks?"

"No."

"Then you will please have no opinion of your own when sensible folks

are speaking.

And the Duckling sat in a corner and was melancholy; then the fresh air

and the sunshine streamed in; and it was seized with such a strange

longing to swim on the water, that it could not help telling the Hen of

it.

"What are you thinking of?" cried the Hen.  "You have nothing to do,

that's why you have these fancies.  Lay eggs, or purr, and they will

pass over."

"But it is so charming to swim on the water!" said the Duckling, "so

refreshing to let it close over one's head, and to dive down to the

bottom."

"Yes, that must be a mighty pleasure, truly," quoth the Hen.  "I fancy

you must have gone crazy.  Ask the Cat about it-he's the cleverest

animal I know-ask him if he likes to swim on the water, or to dive

down: I won't speak about myself.  Ask our mistress, the old woman; no

one in the world is cleverer than she.  Do you think she has any desire

to swim, and to let the water close above her head?"

"You don't understand me," said the Duckling.

"We don't understand you?  Then pray who is to understand you?  You

surely don't pretend to be cleverer than the Cat and the woman-I won't

say anything of myself.  Don't be conceited, child, and thank your

Maker for all the kindness you have received.  Did you not get into a

warm room, and have you not fallen into company from which you may

learn something?  But you are a chatterer, and it is not pleasant to

associate with you.  You may believe me, I speak for your good.  I tell

you disagreeable things, and by that one may always know one's true

friends!  Only take care that you learn to lay eggs, or to purr, and

give out sparks!"

"I think I will go out into the wide world," said the Duckling.

"Yes, do go," replied the Hen.

And so the Duckling went away.  It swam on the water, and dived, but it

was slighted by every creature because of its ugliness.

Now came the autumn.  The leaves in the forest turned yellow and brown;

the wind caught them so that they danced about, and up in the air it

was very cold.  The clouds hung low, heavy with hail and snowflakes,

and on the fence stood the raven, crying, "Croak!  croak!" for mere

cold; yes, it was enough to make one feel cold to think of this.  The

poor little Duckling certainly had not a good time.  One evening-the

sun was just setting in his beauty-there came a whole flock of great,

handsome birds out of the bushes; they were dazzlingly white, with

long, flexible necks; they were swans.  They uttered a very peculiar

cry, spread forth their glorious great wings, and flew away from that

cold region to warmer lands, to fair open lakes.  They mounted so high,

so high!  and the ugly Duckling felt quite strangely as it watched

them.  It turned round and round in the water like a wheel, stretched

out its neck toward them, and uttered such a strange, loud cry as

frightened itself.  Oh!  it could not forget those beautiful, happy

birds; and so soon as it could see them no longer, it dived down to the

very bottom, and when it came up again, it was quite beside itself.  It

knew not the name of those birds, and knew not whither they were

flying; but it loved them more than it had ever loved anyone.  It was

not at all envious of them.  How could it think of wishing to possess

such loveliness as they had?  It would have been glad if only the ducks

would have endured its company the poor, ugly creature!

And the winter grew cold, very cold!  The Duckling was forced to swim

about in the water, to prevent the surface from freezing entirely; but

every night the hole in which it swam about became smaller and smaller.

It froze so hard that the icy covering crackled again; and the Duckling

was obliged to use its legs continually to prevent the hole from

freezing up.  At last it became exhausted, and lay quite still, and

thus froze fast into the ice.  Early in the morning a peasant came by,

and when he saw what had happened, he took his wooden shoe, broke the

ice crust to pieces, and carried the Duckling home to his wife.  Then

it came to itself again.  The children wanted to play with it; but the

Duckling thought they wanted to hurt it, and in its terror fluttered up

into the milk pan, so that the milk spurted down into the room.  The

woman clasped her hands, at which the Duckling flew down into the

butter tub, and then into the meal barrel and out again.  How it looked

then!  The woman screamed, and struck at it with the fire tongs; the

children tumbled over one another in their efforts to catch the

Duckling; and they laughed and they screamed!-well it was that the door

stood open, and the poor creature was able to slip out between the

shrubs into the newly fallen snow-there it lay quite exhausted.

But it would be too melancholy if I were to tell all the misery and

care which the Duckling had to endure in the hard winter.  It lay out

on the moor among the reeds, when the sun began to shine again and the

larks to sing: it was a beautiful spring.

Then all at once the Duckling could flap its wings: they beat the air

more strongly than before, and bore it strongly away; and before it

well knew how all this happened, it found itself in a great garden,

where the elder trees smelled sweet, and bent their long green branches

down to the canal that wound through the region.  Oh, here it was so

beautiful, such a gladness of spring!  and from the thicket came three

glorious white swans; they rustled their wings, and swam lightly on the

water.  The Duckling knew the splendid creatures, and felt oppressed by

a peculiar sadness.

"I will fly away to them, to the royal birds!  and they will beat me,

because I, that am so ugly, dare to come near them.  But it is all the

same.  Better to be killed by them than to be pursued by ducks, and

beaten by fowls, and pushed about by the girl who takes care of the

poultry yard, and to suffer hunger in winter!"  And it flew out into

the water, and swam toward the beautiful swans: these looked at it, and

came sailing down upon it with outspread wings.  "Kill me!" said the

poor creature, and bent its head down upon the water, expecting nothing

but death.  But what was this that it saw in the clear water?  It

beheld its own image; and, lo!  it was no longer a clumsy, dark-gray

bird, ugly and hateful to look at, but a-swan!

It matters nothing if one is born in a duck yard, if one has only lain

in a swan's egg.

It felt quite glad at all the need and misfortune it had suffered, now

it realized its happiness in all the splendor that surrounded it.  And

the great swans swam round it, and stroked it with their beaks.

Into the garden came little children, who threw bread and corn into the

water; and the youngest cried, "There is a new one!" and the other

children shouted joyously, "Yes, a new one has arrived!"  And they

clapped their hands and danced about, and ran to their father and

mother; and bread and cake were thrown into the water; and they all

said, "The new one is the most beautiful of all so young and handsome!"

and the old swans bowed their heads before him.

Then he felt quite ashamed, and hid his head under his wings, for he

did not know what to do; he was so happy, and yet not at all proud.  He

thought how he had been persecuted and despised; and now he heard them

saying that he was the most beautiful of all birds.  Even the elder

tree bent its branches straight down into the water before him, and the

sun shone warm and mild.  Then his wings rustled, he lifted his slender

neck, and cried rejoicingly from the depths of his heart:

"I never dreamed of so much happiness when I was the Ugly Duckling!"