丑小鸭

英语自学网

　　丑小鸭
　　    T was lovely summer weather in the country, and the golden corn, the green oats, and the haystacks piled up in the
　　    meadows
　　    looked beautiful. The stork walking about on his long red legs chattered in the Egyptian language, which he had learnt from
　　    his mother. The corn-fields and meadows were surrounded by large forests, in the midst of which were deep pools. It was,
　　    indeed, delightful to walk about in the country. In a sunny spot stood a pleasant old farm-house close by a deep river, and
　　    from the house down to the water side grew great burdock leaves, so high, that under the tallest of them a little child could
　　    stand upright. The spot was as wild as the centre of a thick wood. In this snug retreat sat a duck on her nest, watching for
　　    her young brood to hatch; she was beginning to get tired of her task, for the little ones were a long time coming out of
　　    their shells, and she seldom had any visitors. The other ducks liked much better to swim about in the river than to climb the
　　    slippery banks, and sit under a burdock leaf, to have a gossip with her. At length one shell cracked, and then another, and
　　    from each egg came a living creature that lifted its head and cried, “Peep, peep.” “Quack, quack,” said the mother, and
　　    then they all quacked as well as they could, and looked about them on every side at the large green leaves. Their mother
　　    allowed them to look as much as they liked, because green is good for the eyes. “How large the world is,” said the young
　　    ducks, when they found how much more room they now had than while they were inside the egg-shell. “Do you imagine this is
　　    the whole world?” asked the mother; “Wait till you have seen the garden; it stretches far beyond that to the parson’s
　　    field, but I have never ventured to such a distance. Are you all out?” she continued, rising; “No, I declare, the largest
　　    egg lies there still. I wonder how long this is to last, I am quite tired of it;” and she seated herself again on the nest.
　　    “Well, how are you getting on?” asked an old duck, who paid her a visit.
　　    “One egg is not hatched yet,” said the duck, “it will not break. But just look at all the others, are they not the
　　    prettiest little ducklings you ever saw? They are the image of their father, who is so unkind, he never comes to see.”
　　    “Let me see the egg that will not break,” said the duck; “I have no doubt it is a turkey’s egg. I was persuaded to
            
            

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　　    hatch some once, and after all my care and trouble with the young ones, they were afraid of the water. I quacked and clucked,
　　    but all to no purpose. I could not get them to venture in. Let me look at the egg. Yes, that is a turkey’s egg; take my
　　    advice, leave it where it is and teach the other children to swim.”
　　    “I think I will sit on it a little while longer,” said the duck; “as I have sat so long already, a few days will be
　　    nothing.”
　　    “Please yourself,” said the old duck, and she went away.
　　    At last the large egg broke, and a young one crept forth crying, “Peep, peep.” It was very large and ugly. The duck
　　    stared at it and exclaimed, “It is very large and not at all like the others. I wonder if it really is a turkey. We shall
　　    soon find it out, however when we go to the water. It must go in, if I have to push it myself.”
　　    On the next day the weather was delightful, and the sun shone brightly on the green burdock leaves, so the mother duck
　　    took her young brood down to the water, and jumped in with a splash. “Quack, quack,” cried she, and one after another the
　　    little ducklings jumped in. The water closed over their heads, but they came up again in an instant, and swam about quite
　　    prettily with their legs paddling under them as easily as possible, and the ugly duckling was also in the water swimming with
　　    them.
　　    “Oh,” said the mother, “that is not a turkey; how well he uses his legs, and how upright he holds himself! He is my
　　    own child, and he is not so very ugly after all if you look at him properly. Quack, quack! come with me now, I will take you
　　    into grand society, and introduce you to the farmyard, but you must keep close to me or you may be trodden upon; and, above
　　    all, beware of the cat
　　.”
　　    When they reached the farmyard, there was a great disturbance, two families were fighting for an eel’s head, which,
　　    after all, was carried off by the cat. “See, children, that is the way of the world,” said the mother duck, whetting her
　　    beak, for she would have liked the eel’s head herself. “Come, now, use your legs, and let me see how well you can behave.
　　    You must bow your heads prettily to that old duck yonder; she is the highest born of them all, and has Spanish blood,
　　    therefore, she is well off. Don’t you see she has a red flag tied to her leg, which is something very grand, and a great
            
            

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　　    honor for a duck; it shows that every one is anxious not to lose her, as she can be recognized both by man and beast. Come,
　　    now, don’t turn your toes, a well-bred duckling spreads his feet wide apart, just like his father and mother, in this way;
　　    now bend your neck, and say ‘quack.’”
　　    The ducklings did as they were bid, but the other duck stared, and said, “Look, here comes another brood, as if there
　　    were not enough of us already! and what a queer looking object one of them is; we don’t want him here,” and then one flew
　　    out and bit him in the neck.
　　    “Let him alone,” said the mother; “he is not doing any harm.”
　　    “Yes, but he is so big and ugly,” said the spiteful duck “and therefore he must be turned out.”
　　    “The others are very pretty children,” said the old duck, with the rag on her leg, “all but that one; I wish his
　　    mother could improve him a little.”
　　    “That is impossible, your grace,” replied the mother; “he is not pretty; but he has a very good disposition, and swims
　　    as well or even better than the others. I think he will grow up pretty, and perhaps be smaller; he has remained too long in
　　    the egg, and therefore his figure is not properly formed;” and then she stroked his neck and smoothed the feathers, saying,
　　    “It is a drake, and therefore not of so much consequence. I think he will grow up strong, and able to take care of himself.
　　    ”
　　    “The other ducklings are graceful enough,” said the old duck. “Now make yourself at home, and if you can find an eel’s
　　    head, you can bring it to me.”
　　    And so they made themselves comfortable; but the poor duckling, who had crept out of his shell last of all, and looked so
　　    ugly, was bitten and pushed and made fun of, not only by the ducks, but by all the poultry. “He is too big,” they all said,
　　    and the turkey cock, who had been born into the world with spurs, and fancied himself really an emperor, puffed himself out
　　    like a vessel in full sail, and flew at the duckling, and became quite red in the head with passion, so that the poor little
　　    thing did not know where to go, and was quite miserable because he was so ugly and laughed at by the whole farmyard. So it
　　    went on from day to day till it got worse and worse. The poor duckling was driven about by every one; even his brothers and
            
            

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　　    sisters were unkind to him, and would say, “Ah, you ugly creature, I wish the cat would get you,” and his mother said she
　　    wished he had never been born. The ducks pecked him, the chickens beat him, and the girl who fed the poultry kicked him with
　　    her feet. So at last he ran away, frightening the little birds in the hedge as he flew over the palings.
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　　    “They are afraid of me because I am ugly,” he said. So he closed his eyes, and flew still farther, until he came out on
　　    a large moor, inhabited by wild ducks. Here he remained the whole night, feeling very tired and sorrowful.
　　    In the morning, when the wild ducks rose in the air, they stared at their new comrade. “What sort of a duck are you?”
　　    they all said, coming round him.
　　    He bowed to them, and was as polite as he could be, but he did not reply to their question. “You are exceedingly ugly,”
　　    said the wild ducks, “but that will not matter if you do not want to marry one of our family.”
　　    Poor thing! he had no thoughts of marriage; all he wanted was permission to lie among the rushes, and drink some of the
　　    water on the moor. After he had been on the moor two days, there came two wild geese, or rather goslings, for they had not
　　    been out of the egg long, and were very saucy. “Listen, friend,” said one of them to the duckling, “you are so ugly, that
　　    we like you very well. Will you go with us, and become a bird of passage? Not far from here is another moor, in which there
　　    are some pretty wild geese, all unmarried. It is a chance for you to get a wife; you may be lucky, ugly as you are.”
　　    “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
            
            

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　　    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
            
            

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　　    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.
　　    “Yes, do,” said the hen. So the duckling left the cottage, and soon found water on which it could swim and dive, but was
　　    avoided by all other animals, because of its ugly appearance. Autumn came, and the leaves in the forest turned to orange and
            
            

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　　    gold. then, as winter approached, the wind caught them as they fell and whirled them in the cold air. The clouds, heavy with
　　    hail and snow-flakes, hung low in the sky, and the raven stood on the ferns crying, “Croak, croak.” It made one shiver with
　　    cold to look at him. All this was very sad for the poor little duckling. One evening, just as the sun set amid radiant
　　    clouds, there came a large flock of beautiful birds out of the bushes. The duckling had never seen any like them before. They
　　    were swans, and they curved their graceful necks, while their soft plumage shown with dazzling whiteness. They uttered a
　　    singular cry, as they spread their glorious wings and flew away from those cold regions to warmer countries across the sea.
　　    As they mounted higher and higher in the air, the ugly little duckling felt quite a strange sensation as he watched them. He
　　    whirled himself in the water like a wheel, stretched out his neck towards them, and uttered a cry so strange that it
　　    frightened himself. Could he ever forget those beautiful, happy birds; and when at last they were out of his sight, he dived
　　    under the water, and rose again almost beside himself with excitement. He knew not the names of these birds, nor where they
　　    had flown, but he felt towards them as he had never felt for any other bird in the world. He was not envious of these
　　    beautiful creatures, but wished to be as lovely as they. Poor ugly creature, how gladly he would have lived even with the
　　    ducks had they only given him encouragement. The winter grew colder and colder; he was obliged to swim about on the water to
　　    keep it from freezing, but every night the space on which he swam became smaller and smaller. At length it froze so hard that
　　    the ice in the water crackled as he moved, and the duckling had to paddle with his legs as well as he could, to keep the
　　    space from closing up. He became exhausted at last, and lay still and helpless, frozen fast in the ice.
　　    Early in the morning, a peasant, who was passing by, saw what had happened. He broke the ice in pieces with his wooden
　　    shoe, and carried the duckling home to his wife. The warmth revived the poor little creature; but when the children wanted to
　　    play with him, the duckling thought they would do him some harm; so he started up in terror, fluttered into the milk-pan, and
　　    splashed the milk about the room. Then the woman clapped her hands, which frightened him still more. He flew first into the
            
            

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　　    butter-cask, then into the meal-tub, and out again. What a condition he was in! The woman screamed, and struck at him with
　　    the tongs; the children laughed and screamed, and tumbled over each other, in their efforts to catch him; but luckily he
　　    escaped. The door stood open; the poor creature could just manage to slip out among the bushes, and lie down quite exhausted
　　    in the newly fallen snow.
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　　    It would be very sad, were I to relate all the misery and privations which the poor little duckling endured during the
　　    hard winter; but when it had passed, he found himself lying one morning in a moor, amongst the rushes. He felt the warm sun
　　    shining, and heard the lark singing, and saw that all around was beautiful spring. Then the young bird felt that his wings
　　    were strong, as he flapped them against his sides, and rose high into the air. They bore him onwards, until he found himself
　　    in a large garden, before he well knew how it had happened. The apple-trees were in full blossom, and the fragrant elders
　　    bent their long green branches down to the stream which wound round a smooth lawn. Everything looked beautiful, in the
　　    freshness of early spring. From a thicket close by came three beautiful white swans, rustling their feathers, and swimming
　　    lightly over the smooth water. The duckling remembered the lovely birds, and felt more strangely unhappy than ever.
　　    “I will fly to those royal birds,” he exclaimed, “and they will kill me, because I am so ugly, and dare to approach
　　    them; but it does not matter: better be killed by them than pecked by the ducks, beaten by the hens, pushed about by the
　　    maiden who feeds the poultry, or starved with hunger in the winter.”
　　    Then he flew to the water, and swam towards the beautiful swans. The moment they espied the stranger, they rushed to meet
　　    him with outstretched wings.
　　    “Kill me,” said the poor bird; and he bent his head down to the surface of the water, and awaited death.
　　    But what did he see in the clear stream below? His own image; no longer a dark, gray bird, ugly and disagreeable to look
　　    at, but a graceful and beautiful swan. To be born in a duck’s nest, in a farmyard, is of no consequence to a bird, if it is
　　    hatched from a swan’s egg. He now felt glad at having suffered sorrow and trouble, because it enabled him to enjoy so much
            
            

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　　    better all the pleasure and happiness around him; for the great swans swam round the new-comer, and stroked his neck with
　　    their beaks, as a welcome.
　　    Into the garden presently came some little children, and threw bread and cake into the water.
　　    “See,” cried the youngest, “there is a new one;” and the rest were delighted, and ran to their father and mother,
　　    dancing and clapping their hands, and shouting joyously, “There is another swan come; a new one has arrived.”
　　    Then they threw more bread and cake into the water, and said, “The new one is the most beautiful of all; he is so young
　　    and pretty.” And the old swans bowed their heads before him. Then he felt quite ashamed, and hid his head under his wing;
　　    for he did not know what to do, he was so happy, and yet not at all proud. He had been persecuted and despised for his
　　    ugliness, and now he heard them say he was the most beautiful of all the birds. Even the elder-tree bent down its bows into
　　    the water before him, and the sun shone warm and bright. Then he rustled his feathers, curved his slender neck, and cried
　　    joyfully, from the depths of his heart, “I never dreamed of such happiness as this, while I was an ugly duckling.”
　　    乡下真是非常美丽。这正是夏天!小麦是金黄的,燕麦是绿油油的。干草在绿色的牧场上堆成垛,鹳鸟用它又长又红的腿子在散着步,噜嗦地
　　    讲着埃及话。(注:因为据丹麦的民间传说,鹳鸟是从埃及飞来的。)这是它从妈妈那儿学到的一种语言。田野和牧场的周围有些大森林,森
　　    林里有些很深的池塘。的确,乡间是非常美丽的,太阳光正照着一幢老式的房子,它周围流着几条很深的小溪。从墙角那儿一直到水里,全盖
　　    满了牛蒡的大叶子。最大的叶子长得非常高,小孩子简直可以直着腰站在下面。像在最浓密的森林里一样,这儿也是很荒凉的。这儿有一只母
　　    鸭坐在窠里,她得把她的几个小鸭都孵出来。不过这时她已经累坏了。很少有客人来看她。别的鸭子都愿意在溪流里游来游去,而不愿意跑到
　　    牛蒡下面来和她聊天。
　　    最后,那些鸭蛋一个接着一个地崩开了。“噼!噼!”蛋壳响起来。所有的蛋黄现在都变成了小动物。他们把小头都伸出来。  “嘎!
　　    嘎!”母鸭说。他们也就跟着嘎嘎地大声叫起来。他们在绿叶子下面向四周看。妈妈让他们尽量地东张西望,因为绿色对他们的眼
            
            

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　　    睛是有好处的。
　　    “这个世界真够大!”这些年轻的小家伙说。的确,比起他们在蛋壳里的时候,他们现在的天地真是大不相同了。
　　    “你们以为这就是整个世界!”妈妈说。“这地方伸展到花园的另一边,一直伸展到牧师的田里去,才远呢!连我自己都没有去过!我想
　　    你们都在这儿吧?”她站起来。“没有,我还没有把你们都生出来呢!这只顶大的蛋还躺着没有动静。它还得躺多久呢?我真是有些烦了。”
　　nbsp;  于是她又坐下来。
　　    “唔,情形怎样?”一只来拜访她的老鸭子问。
　　    “这个蛋费的时间真久!”坐着的母鸭说。“它老是不裂开。请你看看别的吧。他们真是一些最逗人爱的小鸭儿!都像他们的爸爸——这
　　    个坏东西从来没有来看过我一次!”
　　    “让我瞧瞧这个老是不裂开的蛋吧,”这位年老的客人说,“请相信我,这是一只吐绶鸡的蛋。有一次我也同样受过骗,你知道,那些小
　　    家伙不知道给了我多少麻烦和苦恼,因为他们都不敢下水。我简直没有办法叫他们在水里试一试。我说好说歹,一点用也没有!——让我来瞧
　　    瞧这只蛋吧。哎呀!这是一只吐绶鸡的蛋!让他躺着吧,你尽管叫别的孩子去游泳好了。”
　　    “我还是在它上面多坐一会儿吧,”鸭妈妈说,“我已经坐了这么久,就是再坐它一个星期也没有关系。”
　　    “那么就请便吧,”老鸭子说。于是她就告辞了。
　　    最后这只大蛋裂开了。“噼!噼!”新生的这个小家伙叫着向外面爬。他是又大又丑。鸭妈妈把他瞧了一眼。“这个小鸭子大得怕人,”
　　    她说,“别的没有一个像他;但是他一点也不像小吐绶鸡!好吧,我们马上就来试试看吧。他得到水里去,我踢也要把他踢下水去。”
　　    第二天的天气是又晴和,又美丽。太阳照在绿牛蒡上。鸭妈妈带着她所有的孩子走到溪边来。普通!她跳进水里去了。“呱!呱!”她叫
　　    着,于是小鸭子就一个接着一个跳下去。水淹到他们头上,但是他们马上又冒出来了,游得非常漂亮。他们的小腿很灵活地划着。他们全都在
　　    水里,连那个丑陋的灰色小家伙也跟他们在一起游。
　　    “唔,他不是一个吐绶鸡,”她说,“你看他的腿划得多灵活,他浮得多么稳!他是我亲生的孩子!如果你把他仔细看一看,他还算长得