Early in the morning a peasant came by, and found him there; he took his wooden shoe, broke the ice to pieces, and carried the Duckling home to his wife.  Then the Duckling came to himself again.  The children wanted to play with him; but he thought they wanted to hurt him, and in his terror he flew up into the milk-pan, so that the milk spilled over into the room.  The woman screamed and shook her hand in the air, at which the Duckling flew down into the tub where they kept the butter, and then into the meal-barrel and out again.  How he looked then!  The woman screamed, and struck at him with the fire tongs; the children tumbled over one another as they tried to catch the Duckling; and they laughed and they screamed!—­well was it that the door stood open, and the poor creature was able to slip out between the bushes into the newly-fallen snow—­there he lay quite worn out.

But it would be too sad if I were to tell all the misery and care which the Duckling had to bear in the hard winter.  He lay out on the moor among the reeds, when the sun began to shine again and the larks to sing; it was a beautiful spring.

Then all at once the Duckling could flap his wings:  they beat the air more strongly than before, and bore him stoutly away; and before he well knew it, he found himself in a great garden, where the elder-trees stood in flower, and bent their long green branches down to the winding canal, and the lilacs smelt sweet.  Oh, here it was beautiful, fresh, and springlike! and from the thicket came three glorious white swans; they rustled their wings, and sat lightly on the water.  The Duckling knew the splendid creatures, and felt a strange sadness.

“I will fly away to them, to the royal birds! and they will beat me, because I, that am so ugly, dare to come near them.  But it is all the same.  Better to be killed by them than to be chased by ducks, and beaten by fowls, and pushed about by the girl who takes care of the poultry yard, and to suffer hunger in winter!” And he flew out into the water, and swam toward the beautiful swans:  these looked at him, and came sailing down upon him with outspread wings.  “Kill me!” said the poor creature, and bent his head down upon the water, and waited for death.  But what saw he in the clear water?  He saw below him his own image; and lo! it was no longer a clumsy dark-gray bird, ugly and hateful to look at, but—­a swan!

It matters nothing if one is born in a duck-yard, if one has only lain in a swan’s egg.

He felt quite glad at all the need and hard times he had borne; now he could joy in his good luck in all the brightness that was round him.  And the great swans swam round him and stroked him with their beaks.

Into the garden came little children, who threw bread and corn into the water; and the youngest cried, “There is a new one!” and the other children shouted, “Yes, a new one has come!” And they clapped their hands and danced about, and ran to their father and mother; and bread and cake were thrown into the water; and they all said, “The new one is the most beautiful of all! so young and so handsome!” and the old swans bowed their heads before him.