The poor duckling flew over the pailings, and joined some wild ducks who lived on the moor. "You are very ugly," said the wild ducks; "but that will not matter if you do not want to marry into our family." After he had been on the moor two days, he made friends with some wild geese, and had nearly consented to fly over the sea with them, when "pop, pop," went a gun, and the poor gosling fell dead in the water. The poor duckling was so frightened that he hid himself amongst the rushes. When all was quiet again, he came out and ran over the moor till he reached a tumble-down cottage, the door of which was ajar. He crept in, and stayed there all night. A woman, a cat, and a hen lived in this cottage. The hen had such short legs that her mistress called her "Chickie short legs." The old woman let the duckling live in her house, hoping that by-and-bye it might lay eggs. Now the cat was the master of the house, and the hen was the mistress, and they always said, "We and the world," because they thought themselves half the world, at least. One day the duckling said sadly, "It is very dull here, how much I should like to swim in the water and to dive." "What a foolish idea," said the hen. "You have nothing else to do, therefore you have strange fancies. If you could purr or lay eggs they would pass away; ask the cat, he is the cleverest animal I know, if _he_ would like to dive in the water; ask our old mistress, there is no one in the world more clever than she is; do you think she would like to let the water close over her head?" "You don't understand me," said the duckling. "I think I must go into the world again." "Very well, go," said the hen; and the duckling went.