“We don’t understand you!  Then pray who is to understand you?  You surely don’t pretend to be cleverer than the Cat and the woman—­I won’t say anything of myself.  Don’t make a fool of yourself, child, and thank your Maker for all the good you have.  Are you not come into a warm room, and have you not folks about you from whom you can learn something?  But you are a goose, and it is not pleasant to have you about.  You may believe me, I speak for your good.  I tell you things you won’t like, and by that one may always know one’s true friends!  Only take care that you learn to lay eggs, or to purr, and to give out sparks!”

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

“Yes, do go,” replied the Hen.

And so the Duckling went away.  He swam on the water, and dived, but he was shunned by every creature because he was so ugly.

V—­WHAT BECAME OF THE DUCKLING

Now came the fall of the year.  The leaves in the wood 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, one could freeze fast if one thought about it.  The poor little Duckling certainly had not a good time.  One evening—­the sun was just going down in fine style—­there came a whole flock of great handsome birds out of the bushes; they were shining white, with long, supple necks; they were swans.  They uttered a very strange cry, spread forth their glorious great wings, and flew away from that cold region to warmer lands, to fair open lakes.  They mounted so high, so high! and the ugly Duckling had such a strange feeling as he saw them!  He turned round and round in the water like a wheel, stretched out his neck towards them, and uttered a cry, so high, so strange, that he was frightened as he heard it.

Oh! he could not forget those beautiful, happy birds; and as soon as he could see them no longer, he dived down to the very bottom, and when he came up again, he was quite beside himself.  He did not know what the birds were, nor where they were flying to; but he loved them more than he had ever loved any one.  He did not envy them at all.  How could he think of wishing to have such loveliness as they had?  He would have been glad if only the ducks would have let him be among them—­the poor, ugly creature!

And the winter grew so cold, so cold!  The Duckling had to swim about in the water, to keep it from freezing over; but every night the hole in which he swam about became smaller and smaller.  It froze so hard that the icy cover sounded; and the Duckling had to use his legs all the time to keep the hole from freezing tight.  At last he became worn out, and lay quite still, and thus froze fast in the ice.