It was a beautiful day, and the river was
dancing and dimpling and winking as the little breezes shook the trees
that hung over it.

"Well," said the biggest of the little ducks, "in spite of Doctor
Peppercorn I can't help longing for the water. I don't believe it is
going to hurt me; at any rate, here goes." And in he plumped, and in
went every duck after him, and they threw out their great brown feet as
cleverly as if they had taken rowing-lessons all their lives, and sailed
off on the river, away, away, among the ferns, under the pink azalias,
through reeds and rushes and arrow-heads and pickerel-weed, the happiest
ducks that ever were born; and soon they were quite out of sight.

"Well, Mrs. Feathertop, this is a dispensation," said Mrs. Scratchard.
"Your children are all drowned at last, just as I knew they'd be. The
old music-teacher Master Bullfrog, that lives down in Water-Dock Lane,
saw 'em all plump madly into the water together this morning; that's
what comes of not knowing how to bring up a family."

Mrs. Feathertop gave only one shriek and fainted dead away, and was
carried home on a cabbage leaf, and Mr. Gray Cock was sent for, where he
was waiting on Mrs. Red Comb through the squash vines.

"It's a serious time in your family, sir," said Goody Kertarkut, "and
you ought to be at home supporting your wife. Send for Doctor Peppercorn
without delay."

Now as the case was a very dreadful one, Doctor Peppercorn called a
council from the barnyard of the Squire two miles off, and a brisk
young Doctor Partlett appeared in a fine suit of brown and gold, with
tail-feathers like meteors. A fine young fellow he was, lately from
Paris, with all the modern scientific improvements fresh in his head.

When he had listened to the whole story, he clapped his spur into the
ground, and, leaning back laughed so loud that all the cocks in the
neighborhood crowed.

Mrs. Feathertop rose up out of her swoon, and Mr. Gray Cock was greatly
enraged.

"What do you mean, sir, by such behavior in the house of mourning?"

"My dear sir, pardon me, but there is no occasion for mourning. My dear
madam, let me congratulate you. There is no harm done. The simple matter
is, dear madam, you have been under a hallucination all along. The
neighborhood and my learned friend the doctor have all made a mistake in
thinking that these children of yours were hens at all. They are ducks,
ma'am, evidently ducks, and very finely formed ducks, I