‘See, my children, such is the way of the world,’ said the mother-duck, wiping her beak, for she too was fond of roasted eels. ‘Now use your legs,’ said she, ‘keep together, and bow to the old duck you see yonder. She is the most distinguished of all the fowls present, and is of Spanish blood, which accounts for her dignified appearance and manners. And look, she has a red rag on her leg; that is considered extremely handsome, and is the greatest distinction a duck can have. Don’t turn your feet inwards; a well-educated duckling always keeps his legs far apart, like his father and mother, just so--look, now bow your necks, and say “quack.”’ And they did as they were told. But the other ducks who were in the yard looked at them and said aloud, ‘Only see, now we have another brood, as if there were not enough of us already. And fie! how ugly that one is! We will not endure it’; and immediately one of the ducks flew at him, and bit him in the neck. ‘Leave him alone,’ said the mother, ‘he is doing no one any harm.’ ‘Yes, but he is so large, and so strange-looking, and therefore he shall be teased.’ ‘Those are fine children that our good mother has,’ said the old duck with the red rag on her leg. ‘All are pretty except one, and that has not turned out well; I almost wish it could be hatched over again.’ ‘That cannot be, please your highness,’ said the mother. ‘Certainly he is not handsome, but he is a very good child, and swims as well as the others, indeed rather better. I think he will grow like the others all in good time, and perhaps will look smaller. He stayed so long in the egg-shell, that is the cause of the difference,’ and she scratched the duckling’s neck, and stroked his whole body. ‘Besides,’ added she, ‘he is a drake; I think he will be very strong, therefore it does not matter so much; he will fight his way through.’ ‘The other ducks are very pretty,’ said the old duck, ‘pray make yourselves at home, and if you find an eel’s head you can bring it to me.’ And accordingly they made themselves at home. But the poor little duckling, who had come last out of its egg-shell, and who was so ugly, was bitten, pecked, and teased by both ducks and hens. ‘It is so large,’ said they all. And the turkey-cock, who had come into the world with spurs on, and therefore fancied he was an emperor, puffed himself up like a ship in full sail, and marched up to the duckling quite red with passion. The poor little thing scarcely knew what to do; he was quite distressed, because he was so ugly, and because he was the jest of the poultry-yard. [Illustration: HE CAME TO A WIDE MOOR]