It would be very sad to tell you all the duckling suffered that cold winter; but spring came at last, and the young bird felt that his wings were grown strong. He flew away, and stopped at last in a beautiful garden near a fine piece of water. On it he saw two magnificent white birds swimming. "I will fly to those royal birds," he thought, "they will kill me because I am ugly; but I had rather be killed by them than pecked by ducks, or beaten by hens." So he flew to the water and swam towards the swans. "Kill me," he said, as they sailed towards him, and he bowed his head meekly. But what did he see in the stream? Not a dark grey ugly duckling, but a beautiful swan! To be born in a duck's nest in a farm-yard, does not matter to a bird, if it is hatched from a swan's egg. Yes, he too was a swan. Now he would have friends to love him, and nobody would scorn and ill-use him any more. Ho rustled his feathers, curved his slender neck and cried joyfully, "I never thought such good was in store for me when I was an ugly duckling."