moment a most formidable-looking
Dog stood close to him, his tongue hanging out of his mouth, his eyes
sparkling fearfully. He opened wide his jaws at the sight of our
Duckling, showing him his sharp white teeth, and, splash, splash!
he was gone--gone without hurting him.

"Well! let me be thankful," sighed he. "I am so ugly that even the Dog
will not eat me."

And now he lay still, though the shooting continued among the reeds,
shot following shot.

The noise did not cease till late in the day, and even then the poor
little thing dared not stir. He waited several hours before he looked
around him, and then hurried away from the moor as fast as he could.
He ran over fields and meadows, though the wind was so high that he
had some difficulty in moving.

Towards evening he reached a wretched little hut, so wretched that it
knew not on which side to fall, and therefore remained standing. The
wind blew violently, so that our poor little Duckling was obliged to
support himself on his tail, in order to stand against it; but it
became worse and worse. He then noticed that the door had lost one
of its hinges, and hung so much awry that he could creep through the
crack into the room. So he went in.

In this room lived an old woman, with her Tom-cat and her Hen. The Cat,
whom she called her little son, knew how to set up his back and purr;
indeed, he could even throw out sparks when stroked the wrong way. The
Hen had very short legs, and was therefore called "Chickie Short-legs."
She laid very good eggs, and the old woman loved her as her own child.

The next morning the new guest was discovered, and the Cat began to mew
and the Hen to cackle.

[Illustration]

"What is the matter?" asked the old woman, looking round. But her eyes
were not good, so she took the young Duckling to be a fat Duck who had
lost her way. "This is a capital catch," said she, "I shall now have
Duck's eggs, if it be not a Drake. We shall see."

And so the Duckling was kept on trial for three weeks, but no eggs made
their appearance. Now the Cat was the master of the house, and the Hen
was the mistress, and always used to say, "We and the world," for they
imagined themselves to be not only the half of the world, but also by
far the better half. The Duckling thought it was possible to be of a
different opinion, but that the Hen would not allow.

"Can you lay eggs?" asked she.

"No."

"Well, then, hold your tongue."

And the Cat said, "Can y