that they all walked away and his mother was
looking after the Duckling who was just breaking her shell, he didn't
like it--he didn't like it at all.

Still, it was much better so. If he had had no brothers and sisters, he
would have been a lonely little fellow; besides, he would have had his
own way nearly all the time, and that is likely to make any Duckling
selfish. Then, too, if all the other fowls had petted him and given him
the best of everything, he would have become vain. Truly, it was a good
thing for him not to be the only child, and he soon learned to think so.

After there were two Ducklings, a third one came, and a fourth, and a
fifth, and so on until, when the broken shells were cleared away and
the mother had counted bills, she could call to the Drake and her
sisters, "Nine Ducklings hatched, and there were only nine eggs in the
nest."

"Then come to the brook," said the Drake, "and let the children have a
bath. I have been swimming a great many times to-day, and they have not
even set foot in water yet. Why, our eldest son was out of his shell
before the Horses were harnessed this morning, and here it is nearly
time for their supper."

"I couldn't help it," said the mother Duck. "I couldn't leave the nest
to take him swimming until the rest were ready to go. I am doing the
best I can."

"I didn't mean to find fault," said the Drake, "and I suppose you
couldn't get away, but we know that Ducklings should be taught to bathe
often, and there is nothing like beginning in time."

"I might have taken some of them to the brook," said one of the aunts.
The mother straightened her neck and held her head very high, while she
answered, "You? You are very kind, but what do you know about bringing
up Ducklings?"

Now the aunt might have said, "I know just as much as you do," for it
was the young mother's first brood, yet she kept still. She thought, "I
may hatch Ducklings of my own some day, and then I suppose I shall want
to care for them myself."

"Wait," said the Drake, as they reached the brook. "Let us wait and see
what the children will do." The words were hardly out of his bill
when--flutter--splash--splash!--there were nine yellow-white Ducklings
floating on the brook and murmuring happily to each other as though they
had never done anything else.

The Dorking Cock stood on the bank. "Who taught them to swim?" said he.

"Nobody," answered their mother proudly. "They knew without being told.
Tha