The duckling liked the warm room, but the children frightened him. In his fright he flew into a milk pan and spilled the milk. The woman clapped her hands, which frightened him still more. Then he flew about the room and the children chased after him. How frightened he was!

At last he saw that the door was open a little. He flew out and dropped down upon the snow, so tired he thought that he should die.

V.

The story of the long, hard winter is too sad to talk about, but the spring came at last. The duckling felt the warm sun shining and heard the birds singing.

He flapped his wings and flew high into the air. He flew over the fields and meadows until he came to a beautiful garden. The apple trees were in blossom and they looked

down into a cool stream which flowed through the garden.

The duckling thought he would stop to rest for a little while in this lovely place. Soon he saw three white swans swimming on the water.

"I shall fly to them,” thought the duckling. "They will kill me because I am so ugly, but that will not matter. It is better to be killed by these beautiful birds than to be bitten by ducks and laughed at by chickens in the farmyard."

So he swam toward the beautiful swans who came sailing down the river to meet him.

"Kill me," said the poor duckling. And he bent his head down upon the water. But what was it he saw in the water below? It was not an ugly duckling, but a beautiful white swan. It was his own picture.

The great swans swam round the newcomer and stroked his back with their beaks as a welcome. Some children came into the garden and threw bread and cake into

the water.

"Oh, look!" cried one of the children. "There is a new swan. He is the most beautiful of all! Just look!" They ran to their father and mother, dancing and clapping their hands crying, "Another swan has come, a beautiful new one!"

The old swans bowed their heads before him, and the young swan hid his head under his wing, he was so happy! He had always been called ugly and now he heard the children say that he was beautiful.

He raised his slender white neck and cried, "Oh, I never dreamed of such happiness as this while I was an ugly duckling!”

-Hans Christian Andersen

DAME DUCK'S LESSONS TO HER
DUCKLINGS

Old Mother Duck has hatched a brood
Of ducklings small and callow;
Their little wings are short, their down
Is mottled gray and yellow.

There is a quiet little stream,

That runs into the moat,

Where tall green sedges spread their leaves,

And water-lilies float.

Close by the margin of the brook
The old duck made her nest,
Of straw and leaves and withered grass
And down, from her own breast.

And then she sat for four long weeks
In rainy days and fine,

Until the ducklings all came out—
Four, five, six, seven, eight, nine.

One peeped out from beneath her wing,
One scrambled on her back;