FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN THE UGLY DUCKLING

                                       1872

                     FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN

                               THE UGLY DUCKLING

                           by Hans Christian Andersen

    IT was lovely summer weather in the country, and the golden

corn, the green oats, and the haystacks piled up in the meadows looked

beautiful. The stork walking about on his long red legs chattered in

the Egyptian language, which he had learnt from his mother. The

corn-fields and meadows were surrounded by large forests, in the midst

of which were deep pools. It was, indeed, delightful to walk about

in the country. In a sunny spot stood a pleasant old farm-house

close by a deep river, and from the house down to the water side

grew great burdock leaves, so high, that under the tallest of them a

little child could stand upright. The spot was as wild as the centre

of a thick wood. In this snug retreat sat a duck on her nest, watching

for her young brood to hatch; she was beginning to get tired of her

task, for the little ones were a long time coming out of their shells,

and she seldom had any visitors. The other ducks liked much better

to swim about in the river than to climb the slippery banks, and sit

under a burdock leaf, to have a gossip with her. At length one shell

cracked, and then another, and from each egg came a living creature

that lifted its head and cried, "Peep, peep." "Quack, quack," said the

mother, and then they all quacked as well as they could, and looked

about them on every side at the large green leaves. Their mother

allowed them to look as much as they liked, because green is good

for the eyes. "How large the world is," said the young ducks, when

they found how much more room they now had than while they were inside

the egg-shell. "Do you imagine this is the whole world?" asked the

mother; "Wait till you have seen the garden; it stretches far beyond

that to the parson's field, but I have never ventured to such a

distance. Are you all out?" she continued, rising; "No, I declare, the

largest egg lies there still. I wonder how long this is to last, I

am quite tired of it;" and she seated herself again on the nest.

    "Well, how are you getting on?" asked an old duck, who paid her

a visit.

    "One egg is not hatched yet," said the duck, "it will not break.

But just look at all the others, are they not the prettiest little

ducklings you ever saw? They are the image of their father, who is

so unkind, he never comes to see."

    "Let me see the egg that will not break," said the duck; "I have

no doubt it is a turkey's egg. I was persuaded to hatch some once, and

after all my care and trouble with the young ones, they were afraid of

the water. I quacked and clucked, but all to no purpose. I could not

get them to venture in. Let me look at the egg. Yes, that is a

turkey's egg; take my advice, leave it where it is and teach the other

children to swim."

    "I think I will sit on it a little while longer," said the duck;

"as I have sat so long already, a few days will be nothing."

    "Please yourself," said the old duck, and she went away.

    At last the large egg broke, and a young one crept forth crying,

"Peep, peep." It was very large and ugly. The duck stared at it and

exclaimed, "It is very large and not at all like the others. I

wonder if it really is a turkey. We shall soon find it out, however

when we go to the water. It must go in, if I have to push it myself."

    On the next day the weather was delightful, and the sun shone

brightly on the green burdock leaves, so the mother duck took her

young brood down to the water, and jumped in with a splash. "Quack,

quack," cried she, and one after another the little ducklings jumped

in. The water closed over their heads, but they came up again in an

instant, and swam about quite prettily with their legs paddling

under them as easily as possible, and the ugly duckling was also in

the water swimming with them.

    "Oh," said the mother, "that is not a turkey; how well he uses his

legs, and how upright he holds himself! He is my own child, and he

is not so very ugly after all if you look at him properly. Quack,

quack! come with me now, I will take you into grand society, and

introduce you to the farmyard, but you must keep close to me or you

may be trodden upon; and, above all, beware of the cat."

    When they reached the farmyard, there was a great disturbance, two

families were fighting for an eel's head, which, after all, was

carried off by the cat. "See, children, that is the way of the world,"

said the mother duck, whetting her beak, for she would have liked

the eel's head herself. "Come, now, use your legs, and let me see

how well you can behave. You must bow your heads prettily to that

old duck yonder; she is the highest born of them all, and has

Spanish blood, therefore, she is well off. Don't you see she has a red

flag tied to her leg, which is something very grand, and a great honor

for a duck; it shows that every one is anxious not to lose her, as she

can be recognized both by man and beast. Come, now, don't turn your

toes, a well-bred duckling spreads his feet wide apart, just like

his father and mother, in this way; now bend your neck, and say

'quack.'"

    The ducklings did as they were bid, but the other duck stared, and

said, "Look, here comes another brood, as if there were not enough

of us already! and what a queer looking object one of them is; we

don't want him here," and then one flew out and bit him in the neck.

    "Let him alone," said the mother; "he is not doing any harm."

    "Yes, but he is so big and ugly," said the spiteful duck "and

therefore he must be turned out."

    "The others are very pretty children," said the old duck, with the

rag on her leg, "all but that one; I wish his mother could improve him

a little."

    "That is impossible, your grace," replied the mother; "he is not

pretty; but he has a very good disposition, and swims as well or

even better than the others. 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 can 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. "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, and 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 and laughed at by the whole

farmyard. So it went on from day to day till 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 said she wished he had

never been born. The ducks pecked him, the chickens beat him, and

the girl who fed the poultry kicked 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 of me because I am ugly," he said. So he closed

his eyes, and flew still farther, until he came out on a large moor,

inhabited by wild ducks. Here he remained the whole night, feeling

very tired and 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 thoughts of marriage; all he wanted was

permission to lie among the rushes, and drink some of the water on the

moor. After he had been on the moor two days, there came two wild

geese, or rather goslings, for they had not been out of the egg

long, and were very saucy. "Listen, friend," said one of them to the

duckling, "you are so ugly, that we like you very well. Will you go

with us, and become a bird of passage? Not far from here is another

moor, in which there are some pretty wild geese, all unmarried. It

is a chance for you to get a wife; you may be lucky, ugly as you are."

    "Pop, pop," sounded in the air, and the two wild geese fell dead

among the rushes, and the water was tinged with blood. "Pop, pop,"

echoed far and wide in the distance, and whole flocks of wild geese

rose up from the rushes. The sound continued from every direction, for

the sportsmen surrounded the moor, and some were even seated on

branches of trees, overlooking the rushes. The blue smoke from the

guns rose like clouds over the dark trees, and as it floated away

across the water, a number of sporting dogs bounded in among the

rushes, which bent beneath them wherever they went. How they terrified

the poor duckling! He turned away his head to hide it under his

wing, and at the same moment a large terrible dog passed quite near

him. His jaws were open, his tongue hung from his mouth, and his

eyes glared fearfully. He thrust his nose close to the duckling,

showing his sharp teeth, and then, "splash, splash," he went into

the water without touching him, "Oh," sighed the duckling, "how

thankful I am for being so ugly; even a dog will not bite me." And

so he lay quite still, while the shot rattled through the rushes,

and gun after gun was fired over him. It was late in the day before

all became quiet, but even then the poor young thing did not dare to

move. He waited quietly for several hours, and then, after looking

carefully around him, hastened away from the moor as fast as he could.

He ran over field and meadow till a storm arose, and he could hardly

struggle against it. Towards evening, he reached a poor little cottage

that seemed ready to fall, and only remained standing because it could

not decide on which side to fall first. The storm continued so

violent, that the duckling could go no farther; he sat down by the

cottage, and then he noticed that the door was not quite closed in

consequence of one of the hinges having given way. There was therefore

a narrow opening near the bottom large enough for him to slip through,

which he did very quietly, and got a shelter for the night. A woman, a

tom cat, and a hen lived in this cottage. The tom cat, whom the

mistress called, "My little son," was a great favorite; he could raise

his back, and purr, and could even throw out sparks from his fur if it

were stroked the wrong way. The hen had very short legs, so she was

called "Chickie short legs." She laid good eggs, and her mistress

loved her as if she had been her own child. In the morning, the

strange visitor was discovered, and the tom cat began to purr, and the

hen to cluck.

    "What is that noise about?" said the old woman, looking round

the room, but her sight was not very good; therefore, when she saw the

duckling she thought it must be a fat duck, that had strayed from

home. "Oh what a prize!" she exclaimed, "I hope it is not a drake, for

then I shall have some duck's eggs. I must wait and see." So the

duckling was allowed to remain on trial for three weeks, but there

were no eggs. Now the tom cat was the master of the house, and the hen

was mistress, and they always said, "We and the world," for they

believed themselves to be half the world, and the better half too. The

duckling thought that others might hold a different opinion on the

subject, but the hen would not listen to such doubts. "Can you lay

eggs?" she asked. "No." "Then have the goodness to hold your

tongue." "Can you raise your back, or purr, or throw out sparks?" said

the tom cat. "No." "Then you have no right to express an opinion

when sensible people are speaking." So the duckling sat in a corner,

feeling very low spirited, till the sunshine and the fresh air came

into the room through the open door, and then he began to feel such

a great longing for a swim on the water, that he could not help

telling the hen.

    "What an absurd idea," said the hen. "You have nothing else to do,

therefore you have foolish fancies. If you could purr or lay eggs,

they would pass away."

    "But it is so delightful to swim about on the water," said the

duckling, "and so refreshing to feel it close over your head, while

you dive down to the bottom."

    "Delightful, indeed!" said the hen, "why you must be crazy! Ask

the cat, he is the cleverest animal I know, ask him how he would

like to swim about on the water, or to dive under it, for I will not

speak of my own opinion; ask our mistress, the old woman- there is

no one in the world more clever than she is. Do you think she would

like to swim, or to let the water close over her head?"

    "You don't understand me," said the duckling.

    "We don't understand you? Who can understand you, I wonder? Do you

consider yourself more clever than the cat, or the old woman? I will

say nothing of myself. Don't imagine such nonsense, child, and thank

your good fortune that you have been received here. Are you not in a

warm room, and in society from which you may learn something. But

you are a chatterer, and your company is not very agreeable. Believe

me, I speak only for your own good. I may tell you unpleasant

truths, but that is a proof of my friendship. I advise you, therefore,

to lay eggs, and learn to purr as quickly as possible."

    "I believe I must go out into the world again," said the duckling.

    "Yes, do," said the hen. So the duckling left the cottage, and

soon found water on which it could swim and dive, but was avoided by

all other animals, because of its ugly appearance. Autumn came, and

the leaves in the forest turned to orange and gold. then, as winter

approached, the wind caught them as they fell and whirled them in

the cold air. The clouds, heavy with hail and snow-flakes, hung low in

the sky, and the raven stood on the ferns crying, "Croak, croak." It

made one shiver with cold to look at him. All this was very sad for

the poor little duckling. One evening, just as the sun set amid

radiant clouds, there came a large flock of beautiful birds out of the

bushes. The duckling had never seen any like them before. They were

swans, and they curved their graceful necks, while their soft

plumage shown with dazzling whiteness. They uttered a singular cry, as

they spread their glorious wings and flew away from those cold regions

to warmer countries across the sea. As they mounted higher and

higher in the air, the ugly little duckling felt quite a strange

sensation as he watched them. He whirled himself in the water like a

wheel, stretched out his neck towards them, and uttered a cry so

strange that it frightened himself. Could he ever forget those

beautiful, happy birds; and when at last they were out of his sight,

he dived under the water, and rose again almost beside himself with

excitement. He knew not the names of these birds, nor where they had

flown, but he felt towards them as he had never felt for any other

bird in the world. He was not envious of these beautiful creatures,

but wished to be as lovely as they. Poor ugly creature, how gladly

he would have lived even with the ducks had they only given him

encouragement. The winter grew colder and colder; he was obliged to

swim about on the water to keep it from freezing, but every night

the space on which he swam became smaller and smaller. At length it

froze so hard that the ice in the water crackled as he moved, and

the duckling had to paddle with his legs as well as he could, to

keep the space from closing up. He became exhausted at last, and lay

still and helpless, frozen fast in the ice.

    Early in the morning, a peasant, who was passing by, saw what

had happened. He broke the ice in pieces with his wooden shoe, and

carried the duckling home to his wife. The warmth revived the poor

little creature; but when the children wanted to play with him, the

duckling thought they would do him some harm; so he started up in

terror, fluttered into the milk-pan, and splashed the milk about the

room. Then the woman clapped her hands, which frightened him still

more. He flew first into the butter-cask, then into the meal-tub,

and out again. What a condition he was in! The woman screamed, and

struck at him with the tongs; the children laughed and screamed, and

tumbled over each other, in their efforts to catch him; but luckily he

escaped. The door stood open; the poor creature could just manage to

slip out among the bushes, and lie down quite exhausted in the newly

fallen snow.

    It would be very sad, were I to relate all the misery and

privations which the poor little duckling endured during the hard

winter; but when it had passed, he found himself lying one morning

in a moor, amongst the rushes. He felt the warm sun shining, and heard

the lark singing, and saw that all around was beautiful spring. Then

the young bird felt that his wings were strong, as he flapped them

against his sides, and rose high into the air. They bore him

onwards, until he found himself in a large garden, before he well knew

how it had happened. The apple-trees were in full blossom, and the

fragrant elders bent their long green branches down to the stream

which wound round a smooth lawn. Everything looked beautiful, in the

freshness of early spring. From a thicket close by came three

beautiful white swans, rustling their feathers, and swimming lightly

over the smooth water. The duckling remembered the lovely birds, and

felt more strangely unhappy than ever.

    "I will fly to those royal birds," he exclaimed, "and they will

kill me, because I am so ugly, and dare to approach them; but it

does not matter: better be killed by them than pecked by the ducks,

beaten by the hens, pushed about by the maiden who feeds the

poultry, or starved with hunger in the winter."

    Then he flew to the water, and swam towards the beautiful swans.

The moment they espied the stranger, they rushed to meet him with

outstretched wings.

    "Kill me," said the poor bird; and he bent his head down to the

surface of the water, and awaited death.

    But what did he see in the clear stream below? His own image; no

longer a dark, gray bird, ugly and disagreeable to look at, but a

graceful and beautiful swan. To be born in a duck's nest, in a

farmyard, is of no consequence to a bird, if it is hatched from a

swan's egg. He now felt glad at having suffered sorrow and trouble,

because it enabled him to enjoy so much better all the pleasure and

happiness around him; for the great swans swam round the new-comer,

and stroked his neck with their beaks, as a welcome.

    Into the garden presently came some little children, and threw

bread and cake into the water.

    "See," cried the youngest, "there is a new one;" and the rest were

delighted, and ran to their father and mother, dancing and clapping

their hands, and shouting joyously, "There is another swan come; a new

one has arrived."

    Then they threw more bread and cake into the water, and said, "The

new one is the most beautiful of all; he is so young and pretty."

And the old swans bowed their heads before him.

    Then he felt quite ashamed, and hid his head under his wing; for

he did not know what to do, he was so happy, and yet not at all proud.

He had been persecuted and despised for his ugliness, and now he heard

them say he was the most beautiful of all the birds. Even the

elder-tree bent down its bows into the water before him, and the sun

shone warm and bright. Then he rustled his feathers, curved his

slender neck, and cried joyfully, from the depths of his heart, "I

never dreamed of such happiness as this, while I was an ugly

duckling."

                            THE END