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.” |