“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.