he sunshine streamed in; and it was seized with such a strange
longing to swim on the water, that it could not help telling the Hen of
it.

"What are you thinking of?" cried the Hen. "You have nothing to do,
that's why you have these fancies. Purr or lay eggs, and they will pass
over."

"But it is so charming to swim on the water!" said the Duckling, "so
refreshing to let it close above one's head, and to dive to the bottom."

"Yes, that must be a mighty pleasure, truly," quoth the Hen. "I fancy
you must have gone crazy. Ask the Cat about it--he's the cleverest
animal I know--ask him if he likes to swim on the water, or to dive
down; I won't speak about myself. Ask our mistress, the old woman; no
one in the world is cleverer than she. Do you think she has any desire
to swim, and to let the water close above her head?"

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

"We don't understand you? Then pray who is to understand you? You surely
don't pretend to be cleverer than the Tom Cat and the woman--I won't say
anything of myself. Don't be conceited, child, and be grateful for all
the kindness you have received. Did you not get into a warm room, and
have you not fallen into company from which you may learn something. But
you are a chatterer, and it is not pleasant to associate with you. You
may believe me, I speak for your good. I tell you disagreeable things,
and by that one may always know one's true friends! Only take care that
you learn to lay eggs, or to purr and give out sparks!"

"I think I will go out into the wide world," said the Duckling.

"Yes, do go," replied the Hen.

And the Duckling went away. It swam on the water, and dived, but it was
slighted by every creature because of its ugliness.

[Illustration: "HAVE YOU NOT FALLEN INTO COMPANY FROM WHICH YOU MAY
LEARN SOMETHING?"]

Now came the Autumn. The leaves in the forest turned yellow and brown;
the wind caught them so that they danced about, and up in the air it was
very cold. The clouds hung low, heavy with hail and snow-flakes, and on
the fence stood the raven, crying, "Croak! croak!" for mere cold; yes,
it was enough to make one feel cold to think of this. The poor little
Duckling certainly had not a good time. One evening--the sun was just
setting in his beauty--there came a whole flock of great handsome birds
out of the bushes; they were dazzlingly white, with long flexible necks;
they were swans. They uttered a very peculiar cry, spread f