r could smooth him up a bit;
he is really ill-favored."

"That is impossible, your grace," replied the mother. "He is not pretty,
but he has a very good disposition and swims as well as the others or
even better. I think he will grow up pretty, and perhaps be smaller. He
has remained too long in the egg, and therefore his figure is not
properly formed;" and then she stroked his neck and smoothed the
feathers, saying: "It is a drake, and therefore not of so much
consequence. I think he will grow up strong and able to take care of
himself."

"The other ducklings are graceful enough," said the old duck. "Now make
yourself at home, and if you find an eel's head you can bring it to me."

And so they made themselves comfortable; but the poor duckling who had
crept out of his shell last of all and looked so ugly was bitten and
pushed and made fun of, not only by the ducks but by all the poultry.

[Illustration: Bless me, what a queer-looking object one of them is...]

"He is too big," they all said; and the turkey cock, who had been born
into the world with spurs and fancied himself really an emperor, puffed
himself out like a vessel in full sail and flew at the duckling. He
became quite red in the head with passion, so that the poor little thing
did not know where to go, and was quite miserable because he was so ugly
as to be laughed at by the whole farmyard.

So it went on from day to day; it got worse and worse. The poor duckling
was driven about by every one; even his brothers and sisters were unkind
to him and would say, "Ah, you ugly creature, I wish the cat would get
you" and his mother had been heard to say she wished he had never been
born. The ducks pecked him, the chickens beat him, and the girl who fed
the poultry pushed him with her feet. So at last he ran away,
frightening the little birds in the hedge as he flew over the palings.
"They are afraid because I am so ugly," he said. So he flew still
farther, until he came out on a large moor inhabited by wild ducks. Here
he remained the whole night, feeling very sorrowful.

In the morning, when the wild ducks rose in the air, they stared at
their new comrade. "What sort of a duck are you?" they all said, coming
round him.

He bowed to them and was as polite as he could be, but he did not reply
to their question. "You are exceedingly ugly," said the wild ducks; "but
that will not matter if you do not want to marry one of our family."

Poor thing! he had no t