Golden Grain Garnered from the World's Great Harvest-field of Knowledge: Comprising Selections from the Ablest Modern Writers of Prose, Poetry, and Legendary Lore
General
Golden Grain Garnered from the World's Great Harvest-field of Knowledge: Comprising Selections from the Ablest Modern Writers of Prose, Poetry, and Legendary Lore
American literature
"I'll just sit upon it a bit longer," said the duck; "for since I have
sat so long, a few days more won't make much odds."
"Please yourself," said the old duck, as she went away.
At length the large egg cracked. "Peep! peep!" squeaked the youngster,
as he crept out. How big and ugly he was, to be sure! The duck looked
at him, saying: "Really this is a most enormous duckling! None of the
others are like him. I wonder whether he is a guinea-chick after all?
Well, we shall soon see when we get down to the water; for in he shall
go, though I push him in myself."
On the following morning the weather was most delightful, and the sun
was shining brightly on the green burdock-leaves. The mother duck took
her young brood down to the canal. Splash into the water she went.
"Quack! quack!" cried she, and forthwith one duckling after another
jumped in. The water closed over their heads for a moment; but they
soon rose to the surface again, and swam about so nicely, just as if
their legs paddled them about of their own accord; and they had all
taken to the water; even the ugly, gray-coated youngster swam about
with the rest.
"Nay, he is no guinea-chick," said she, "only look how capitally he
uses his legs, and how steady he keeps himself--he's every inch my
own child! 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, and introduce you to the duck-yard; but mind you
keep close to me, that nobody may tread upon you; and above all, beware
of the cat."
They now reached the farm-yard, where there was a great hubbub. Two
families were fighting for an eel's head, which, in the end, was
carried off by the cat.
"See, children, that's the way with the world!" remarked the mother
of the ducklings, licking her beak, for she would have been very glad
to have had the eel's head for herself. "Now, move on!" said she,
"and mind you cackle properly, and bow your head before that old duck
yonder; she is the noblest born of them all, and is of Spanish descent,
and that's why she is so dignified; and look! she has a red rag tied
to her leg, which is the greatest mark of distinction that can be
bestowed upon a duck, as it shows an anxiety not to lose her, and that
she should be recognized by both beast and man. Now cackle--and don't
turn in your toes; a well-bred duckling spreads his feet wide apart,
like papa and mamma, in this sort of way. Now bend your neck and say
'Quack!'"
[Illustration: "WHAT A QUEER LOOKING CHAP ONE OF THE DUCKLINGS IS TO BE
SURE!"]
The ducklings did as they were bid; but the other ducks, after looking
at them, only said aloud; "Now look! here comes another set, as if we
were not numerous enough already. And bless me! what a queer looking
chap one of the ducklings is to be sure--we can't put up with him!" And
one of the throng darted forward and bit him in the neck.
"Leave him alone," said the mother, "he did no harm to anyone."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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