"You will never be in the best society unless toi can stand on your heads," she kept saying to them; and every now and then she showed them how it was done. But the little ducks paid no attention to her. They were so young that they did not know what an advantage it is to be in society at all.
"What disobedient children!" cried the old Water-rat; "they really deserve to be drowned."
"Nothing of the kind," answered the Duck, "every one must make a beginning, and parents cannot be too patient."
"Ah! I know nothing about the feelings of parents," a dit the Water-rat; "I am not a family man. In fact, I have never been married, and I never intend to be. l’amour is all very well in its way, but friendship is much higher. Indeed, I know of nothing in the world that is either nobler ou rarer than a devoted friendship."
"And what, pray, is your idea of the duties of a devoted friend?" asked a Green Linnet, who was sitting in a willow-tree hard by, and had overheard the conversation.
"Yes, that is just what I want to know," a dit the Duck; and she swam away to the end of the pond, and stood upon her head, in order to give her children a good example.
"What a silly question!" cried the Water-rat. "I should expect my devoted friend to be devoted to me, of course."
"And what would toi do in return?" a dit the little bird, swinging upon a silver spray, and flapping his tiny wings.
"I don't understand you," answered the Water-rat.
"Let me tell toi a story on the subject," a dit the Linnet.
"Is the story about me?" asked the Water-rat. "If so, I will listen to it, for I am extremely fond of fiction."
"It is applicable to you," answered the Linnet; and he flew down, and alighting upon the bank, he told the story of The Devoted Friend.
"Once upon a time," a dit the Linnet, "there was an honest little fellow named Hans."
"Was he very distinguished?" asked the Water-rat.
"No," answered the Linnet, "I don't think he was distinguished at all, except for his kind heart, and his funny round good-humoured face. He lived in a tiny cottage all par himself, and every jour he worked in his garden. In all the country-side there was no garden so lovely as his. Sweet-william grew there, and Gilly-flowers, and Shepherds'-purses, and Fair-maids of France. There were damask Roses, and yellow Roses, lilas Crocuses, and gold, purple Violets and white. Columbine and Ladysmock, Marjoram and Wild Basil, the Cowslip and the Flower-de-luce, the Daffodil and the Clove-Pink bloomed ou blossomed in their proper order as the months went by, one fleur taking another flower's place, so that there were always beautiful things to look at, and pleasant odours to smell.
"Little Hans had a great many friends, but the most devoted friend of all was big Hugh the Miller. Indeed, so devoted was the rich Miller to little Hans, that be would never go par his garden without leaning over the mur and plucking a large nosegay, ou a handful of sweet herbs, ou filling his pockets with plums and cherries if it was the fruit season.
"'Real Friends should have everything in common,' the Miller used to say, and little Hans nodded and smiled, and felt very proud of having a friend with such noble ideas.
"Sometimes, indeed, the neighbours thought it strange that the rich Miller never gave little Hans anything in return, though he had a hundred sacks of flour stored away in his mill, and six milch cows, and a large flock of woolly sheep; but Hans never troubled his head about these things, and nothing gave him greater pleasure than to listen to all the wonderful things the Miller used to say about the unselfishness of true friendship.
"So little Hans worked away in his garden. During the spring, the summer, and the autumn he was very happy, but when the winter came, and he had no fruit ou fleurs to bring to the market, he suffered a good deal from cold and hunger, and often had to go to lit without any souper but a few dried pears ou some hard nuts. In the winter, also, he was extremely lonely, as the Miller never came to see him then.
"'There is no good in my going to see little Hans as long as the snow lasts,' the Miller used to say to his wife, 'for when people are in trouble they should be left alone, and not be bothered par visitors. That at least is my idea about friendship, and I am sure I am right. So I shall wait till the spring comes, and then I shall pay him a visit, and he will be able to give me a large basket of primroses and that will make him so happy.'
"'You are certainly very thoughtful about others,' answered the Wife, as she sat in her comfortable fauteuil par the big pinewood fire; 'very thoughtful indeed. It is quite a treat to hear toi talk about friendship. I am sure the clergyman himself could not say such beautiful things as toi do, though he does live in a three-storied house, and wear a or ring on his little finger.'
"'But could we not ask little Hans up here?' a dit the Miller's youngest son. 'If poor Hans is in trouble I will give him half my porridge, and montrer him my white rabbits.'
"'What a silly boy toi are'! cried the Miller; 'I really don't know what is the use of sending toi to school. toi seem not to learn anything. Why, if little Hans came up here, and saw our warm fire, and our good supper, and our great cask of red wine, he might get envious, and envy is a most terrible thing, and would spoil anybody's nature. I certainly will not allow Hans' nature to be spoiled. I am his best friend, and I will always watch over him, and see that he is not led into any temptations. Besides, if Hans came here, he might ask me to let him have some flour on credit, and that I could not do. Flour is one thing, and friendship is another, and they should not be confused. Why, the words are spelt differently, and mean quite different things. Everybody can see that.'
"'How well toi talk'! a dit the Miller's Wife, pouring herself out a large glass of warm ale; 'really I feel quite drowsy. It is just like being in church.'
"'Lots of people act well,' answered the Miller; 'but very few people talk well, which shows that talking is much the plus difficult thing of the two, and much the finer thing also'; and he looked sternly across the table, tableau at his little son, who felt so ashamed of himself that he hung his head down, and grew quite scarlet, and began to cry into his tea. However, he was so young that toi must excuse him."
"Is that the end of the story?" asked the Water-rat.
"Certainly not," answered the Linnet, "that is the beginning."
"Then toi are quite behind the age," a dit the Water-rat. "Every good story-teller nowadays starts with the end, and then goes on to the beginning, and concludes with the middle. That is the new method. I heard all about it the other jour from a critic who was walking round the pond with a young man. He spoke of the matter at great length, and I am sure he must have been right, for he had blue spectacles and a bald head, and whenever the young man made any remark, he always answered 'Pooh!' But pray go on with your story. I like the Miller immensely. I have all kinds of beautiful sentiments myself, so there is a great sympathy between us."
"Well," a dit the Linnet, hopping now on one leg and now on the other, "as soon as the winter was over, and the primroses began to open their pale yellow stars, the Miller a dit to his wife that he would go down and see little Hans.
"'Why, what a good cœur, coeur toi have'! cried his Wife; 'you are always thinking of others. And mind toi take the big basket with toi for the flowers.'
"So the Miller tied the sails of the windmill together with a strong iron chain, and went down the colline with the basket on his arm.
"'Good morning, little Hans,' a dit the Miller.
"'Good morning,' a dit Hans, leaning on his spade, and smiling from ear to ear.
"'And how have toi been all the winter?' a dit the Miller.
"'Well, really,' cried Hans, 'it is very good of toi to ask, very good indeed. I am afraid I had rather a hard time of it, but now the spring has come, and I am quite happy, and all my fleurs are doing well.'
"'We often talked of toi during the winter, Hans,' a dit the Miller, 'and wondered how toi were getting on.'
"'That was kind of you,' a dit Hans; 'I was half afraid toi had forgotten me.'
"'Hans, I am surprised at you,' a dit the Miller; 'friendship never forgets. That is the wonderful thing about it, but I am afraid toi don't understand the poésie of life. How lovely your primroses are looking, by-the-bye"!
"'They are certainly very lovely,' a dit Hans, 'and it is a most lucky thing for me that I have so many. I am going to bring them into the market and sell them to the Burgomaster's daughter, and buy back my wheelbarrow with the money.'
"'Buy back your wheelbarrow? toi don't mean to say toi have sold it? What a very stupid thing to do'!
"'Well, the fact is,' a dit Hans, 'that I was obliged to. toi see the winter was a very bad time for me, and I really had no money at all to buy pain with. So I first sold the silver buttons off my Sunday coat, and then I sold my silver chain, and then I sold my big pipe, and at last I sold my wheelbarrow. But I am going to buy them all back again now.'
"'Hans,' a dit the Miller, 'I will give toi my wheelbarrow. It is not in very good repair; indeed, one side is gone, and there is something wrong with the wheel-spokes; but in spite of that I will give it to you. I know it is very generous of me, and a great many people would think me extremely foolish for parting with it, but I am not like the rest of the world. I think that generosity is the essence of friendship, and, besides, I have got a new wheelbarrow for myself. Yes, toi may set your mind at ease, I will give toi my wheelbarrow.'
"'Well, really, that is generous of you,' a dit little Hans, and his funny round face glowed all over with pleasure. 'I can easily put it in repair, as I have a plank of wood in the house.'
"'A plank of wood'! a dit the Miller; 'why, that is just what I want for the roof of my barn. There is a very large hole in it, and the blé, maïs will all get damp if I don't stop it up. How lucky toi mentioned it! It is quite remarkable how one good action always breeds another. I have donné toi my wheelbarrow, and now toi are going to give me your plank. Of course, the wheelbarrow is worth far plus than the plank, but true, friendship never notices things like that. Pray get it at once, and I will set to work at my grange this very day.'
"'Certainly,' cried little Hans, and he ran into the shed and dragged the plank out.
"'It is not a very big plank,' a dit the Miller, looking at it, 'and I am afraid that after I have mended my barn-roof there won't be any left for toi to mend the wheelbarrow with; but, of course, that is not my fault. And now, as I have donné toi my wheelbarrow, I am sure toi would like to give me some fleurs in return. Here is the basket, and mind toi fill it quite full.'
"'Quite full?' a dit little Hans, rather sorrowfully, for it was really a very big basket, and he knew that if he filled it he would have no fleurs left for the market and he was very anxious to get his silver buttons back.
"'Well, really,' answered the Miller, 'as I have donné toi my wheelbarrow, I don't think that it is much to ask toi for a few flowers. I may be wrong, but I should have thought that friendship, true friendship, was quite free from selfishness of any kind.'
"'My dear friend, my best friend,' cried little Hans, 'you are welcome to all the fleurs in my garden. I would much sooner have your good opinion than my silver buttons, any day'; and he ran and plucked all his pretty primroses, and filled the Miller's basket.
"'Good-bye, little Hans,' a dit the Miller, as he went up the colline with the plank on his shoulder, and the big basket in his hand.
"'Good-bye,' a dit little Hans, and he began to dig away quite merrily, he was so pleased about the wheelbarrow.
"The suivant jour he was nailing up some honeysuckle against the porch, when he heard the Miller's voice calling to him from the road. So he jumped off the ladder, and ran down the garden, and looked over the wall.
"There was the Miller with a large sack of flour on his back.
"'Dear little Hans,' a dit the Miller, 'would toi mind carrying this sack of flour for me to market?'
"'Oh, I am so sorry,' a dit Hans, 'but I am really very busy today. I have got all my creepers to nail up, and all my fleurs to water, and all my herbe to roll.'
"'Well, really,' a dit the Miller, 'I think that, considering that I am going to give toi my wheelbarrow, it is rather unfriendly of toi to refuse.'
"'Oh, don't say that,' cried little Hans, 'I wouldn't be unfriendly for the whole world'; and he ran in for his cap, and trudged off with the big sack on his shoulders.
"It was a very hot day, and the road was terribly dusty, and before Hans had reached the sixth milestone he was so tired that he had to sit down and rest. However, he went on bravely, and as last he reached the market. After he had waited there some time, he sold the sack of flour for a very good price, and then he returned accueil at once, for he was afraid that if he stopped too late he might meet some robbers on the way.
"'It has certainly been a hard day,' a dit little Hans to himself as he was going to bed, 'but I am glad I did not refuse the Miller, for he is my best friend, and, besides, he is going to give me his wheelbarrow.'
"Early the suivant morning the Miller came down to get the money for his sack of flour, but little Hans was so tired that he was still in bed.
"'Upon my word,' a dit the Miller, 'you are very lazy. Really, considering that I am going to give toi my wheelbarrow, I think toi might work harder. Idleness is a great sin, and I certainly don't like any of my Friends to be idle ou sluggish. toi must not mind my speaking quite plainly to you. Of course I should not dream of doing so if I were not your friend. But what is the good of friendship if one cannot say exactly what one means? Anybody can say charming things and try to please and to flatter, but a true friend always says unpleasant things, and does not mind giving pain. Indeed, if he is a really true friend he prefers it, for he knows that then he is doing good.'
"'I am very sorry,' a dit little Hans, rubbing his eyes and pulling off his night-cap, 'but I was so tired that I thought I would lie in lit for a little time, and listen to the birds singing. Do toi know that I always work better after hearing the birds sing?'
"'Well, I am glad of that,' a dit the Miller, clapping little Hans on the back, 'for I want toi to come up to the mill as soon as toi are dressed, and mend my barn-roof for me.'
"Poor little Hans was very anxious to go and work in his garden, for his fleurs had not been watered for two days, but he did not like to refuse the Miller, as he was such a good friend to him.
"'Do toi think it would be unfriendly of me if I a dit I was busy?' he inquired in a shy and timid voice.
"'Well, really,' answered the Miller, 'I do not think it is much to ask of you, considering that I am going to give toi my wheelbarrow; but of course if toi refuse I will go and do it myself.'
"'Oh! on no account,' cried little Hans and he jumped out of bed, and dressed himself, and went up to the barn.
"He worked there all jour long, till sunset, and at sunset the Miller came to see how he was getting on.
"'Have toi mended the hole in the roof yet, little Hans?' cried the Miller in a cheery voice.
"'It is quite mended,' answered little Hans, coming down the ladder.
"'Ah!' a dit the Miller, 'there is no work so delightful as the work one does for others.'
"'It is certainly a great privilege to hear toi talk,' answered little Hans, sitting down, and wiping his forehead, 'a very great privilege. But I am afraid I shall never have such beautiful ideas as toi have.'
"'Oh! they will come to you,' a dit the Miller, 'but toi must take plus pains. At present toi have only the practice of friendship; some jour toi will have the theory also.'
"'Do toi really think I shall?' asked little Hans.
"'I have no doubt of it,' answered the Miller, 'but now that toi have mended the roof, toi had better go accueil and rest, for I want toi to drive my mouton, moutons to the mountain tomorrow.'
"Poor little Hans was afraid to say anything to this, and early the suivant morning the Miller brought his mouton, moutons round to the cottage, and Hans started off with them to the mountain. It took him the whole jour to get there and back; and when he returned he was so tired that he went off to sleep in his chair, and did not wake up till it was broad daylight.
"'What a delightful time I shall have in my garden,' he said, and he went to work at once.
"But somehow he was never able to look after his fleurs at all, for his friend the Miller was always coming round and sending him off on long errands, ou getting him to help at the mill. Little Hans was very much distressed at times, as he was afraid his fleurs would think he had forgotten them, but he consoled himself par the reflection that the Miller was his best friend. 'Besides,' he used to say, 'he is going to give me his wheelbarrow, and that is an act of pure generosity.'
"So little Hans worked away for the Miller, and the Miller a dit all kinds of beautiful things about friendship, which Hans took down in a note-book, and used to read over at night, for he was a very good scholar.
"Now it happened that one evening little Hans was sitting par his fireside when a loud rap came at the door. It was a very wild night, and the wind was blowing and roaring round the house so terribly that at first he thought it was merely the storm. But a seconde rap came, and then a third, louder than any of the others.
"'It is some poor traveller,' a dit little Hans to himself, and he ran to the door.
"There stood the Miller with a lantern in one hand and a big stick in the other.
"'Dear little Hans,' cried the Miller, 'I am in great trouble. My little boy has fallen off a ladder and hurt himself, and I am going for the Doctor. But he lives so far away, and it is such a bad night, that it has just occurred to me that it would be much better if toi went instead of me. toi know I am going to give toi my wheelbarrow, and so, it is only fair that toi should do something for me in return.'
"'Certainly,' cried little Hans, 'I take it quite as a compliment your coming to me, and I will start off at once. But toi must lend me your lantern, as the night is so dark that I am afraid I might fall into the ditch.'
"'I am very sorry,' answered the Miller, 'but it is my new lantern, and it would be a great loss to me if anything happened to it.'
"'Well, never mind, I will do without it,' cried little Hans, and he took down his great fourrure coat, and his warm scarlet cap, and tied a muffler round his throat, and started off.
"What a dreadful storm it was! The night was so black that little Hans could hardly see, and the wind was so strong that he could scarcely stand. However, he was very courageous, and after he had been walking about three hours, he arrived at the Doctor's house, and knocked at the door.
"'Who is there?' cried the Doctor, putting his head out of his bedroom window.
"'Little Hans, Doctor.'
"'What do toi want, little Hans?'
"'The Miller's son has fallen from a ladder, and has hurt himself, and the Miller wants toi to come at once.'
"'All right!' a dit the Doctor; and he ordered his horse, and his big boots, and his lantern, and came downstairs, and rode off in the direction of the Miller's house, little Hans trudging behind him.
"But the storm grew worse and worse, and the rain fell in torrents, and little Hans could not see where he was going, ou keep up with the horse. At last he Lost his way, and wandered off on the moor, which was a very dangerous place, as it was full of deep holes, and there poor little Hans was drowned. His body was found the suivant jour par some goatherds, floating in a great pool of water, and was brought back par them to the cottage.
"Everybody went to little Hans' funeral, as he was so popular, and the Miller was the chief mourner.
"'As I was his best friend,' a dit the Miller, 'it is only fair that I should have the best place'; so he walked at the head of the procession in a long black cloak, and every now and then he wiped his eyes with a big pocket-handkerchief.
"'Little Hans is certainly a great loss to every one,' a dit the Blacksmith, when the funeral was over, and they were all seated comfortably in the inn, drinking spiced wine and eating sweet cakes.
"'A great loss to me at any rate,' answered the Miller; 'why, I had as good as donné him my wheelbarrow, and now I really don't know what to do with it. It is very much in my way at home, and it is in such bad repair that I could not get anything for it if I sold it. I will certainly take care not to give away anything again. One always suffers for being generous.'"
"Well?" a dit the Water-rat, after a long pause.
"Well, that is the end," a dit the Linnet.
"But what became of the Miller?" asked the Water-rat.
"Oh! I really don't know," replied the Linnet; "and I am sure that I don't care."
"It is quite evident then that toi have no sympathy in your nature," a dit the Water-rat.
"I am afraid toi don't quite see the moral of the story," remarked the Linnet.
"The what?" screamed the Water-rat.
"The moral."
"Do toi mean to say that the story has a moral?"
"Certainly," a dit the Linnet.
"Well, really," a dit the Water-rat, in a very angry manner, "I think toi should have told me that before toi began. If toi had done so, I certainly would not have listened to you; in fact, I should have a dit 'Pooh,' like the critic. However, I can say it now"; so he shouted out "Pooh" at the haut, retour au début of his voice, gave a whisk with his tail, and went back into his hole.
"And how do toi like the Water-rat?" asked the Duck, who came paddling up some minutes afterwards. "He has a great many good points, but for my own part I have a mother's feelings, and I can never look at a confirmed bachelor without the tears coming into my eyes."
"I am rather afraid that I have annoyed him," answered the Linnet. "The fact is, that I told him a story with a moral."
"Ah! that is always a very dangerous thing to do," a dit the Duck.
And I quite agree with her.
