“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.
