The dinky ducklings

Of course, the ducklings wanted to go, for they loved Aunt Dilly and Uncle Daffy. Mother Duck wrote an answer and they dropped it in the mail-box that very morning.

Oh, my! Such excitement! Mother Duck was busy ironing collars, pressing neckties and smoothing down little feathers just right. They were ready for an early start in the morning.

That night Peter slept badly; he was up looking at the clock so many times. Puddle never opened his eyes once, however. At the first streak of dawn the white duckling pulled the bedcovers off his black brother.

“Wake up, Puddle!” he quacked loudly. “We are going to visit Uncle Daffy today!” He was so excited! He danced a little riga-majig.

After two faces and two long necks were washed clean, and two little neckties tied, they were ready. Puddle paddled down the stairs, but Peter slid the banister. Mother was waiting for them with their breakfast plates piled high with griddle cakes and a jug of maple syrup.

“Oh, goody! What fun we will have! It begins right this moment!” quacked the white duckling. He took a griddle cake and spilled syrup down the middle of it. One by one, the cakes followed each other down the little red lane until the plates were empty. The two little chaps wanted more breakfast, but the Mother Duck said they had eaten enough. They slid down from their chairs and put on their hats. There were kisses and promises to be good.

“Goodbye, children!” quacked Mrs. Duck. “Don’t get lost, and remember to turn right at the crossroads!”

The two little ducklings waved back and would have hurried on but Peter had forgotten and left his red express wagon out all night, and Puddle spied it in the back yard. It looked new and shiny, and a wee bit lonesome at being left behind.

“Let’s take our cart with us! It will be lots of fun.”

“All right,” said Peter. “But it’s more fun to pull a wagon with someone in it. You ride.”

“Thank you!” answered Puddle, very politely. He scrambled up.

But Peter started so fast that poor Puddle was all bounced and jiggled about. The wheels hit a rut and the black duck nearly fell out.

“Whoa, horsey! Not so fast!” he quacked. “I’m almost falling out and so busy holding on that I can’t see anything!”

“I was hurrying to get there sooner,” replied his horsey, but he slowed up and waddled along the dusty road. Now Puddle began to enjoy his ride, looking at the nice tender clover and grass growing along the way.

“That duckweed looks greener, and maybe it would taste better than the kind we have at home,” said Puddle. Peter and Puddle stopped and sampled a bit of this and a bite of that. They said, “Good morning,” to Cock Robin, who was out looking for the early worm. They even offered to help him look, but he answered, “No,” that he would rather look alone.

They nibbled at sweet clover and Peter scrambled up on a rock and saw a pretty blue butterfly. “Come on, brother, help me catch it!”

Suddenly the two little fellows saw something running along behind the fence and they scurried for their wagon. It was only a playful pup but he made so much noise that the ducklings thought he must be some bad, wild beast.

Puddle climbed in and Peter started to pull, but he gave the wagon such a jerk that poor Puddle bounced up in the air. Luckily he hit the wagon when he landed, but with a terrible thud. His hat flew off, but they never stopped to pick it up.

“Waddle for your life!” squeaked Puddle, hanging on tight.

“I am waddling as fast as I can!” panted the white duckling, jumping and bumping along the road, with the wagon trailing behind. On and on, hurried the frightened little ducklings until they came to the crossroads. There, they forgot and ran the wrong way. They took the road to the left!

When Peter was all tired out from running and Puddle was all tired out from hanging on, they stopped behind a big rock and cautiously peeped out to see if they were followed. There wasn’t a sound, except a song sparrow singing his lively song in the birch trees, and some frogs in the distance were beginning to tune up for their daily concert.

The little ducklings were so tired from their long run that they sat right down in the grass, and soon were fast asleep.

Puddle woke up with a start and shook Peter. But he could hardly rouse him, for poor Peter had had so little sleep the night before.

“Wake up, brother!” whispered Puddle, hoarsely. “Someone is here!”

On the rock, close to them, sat a large handsome fellow. He had a red coat and a long bushy tail, black ears, a sharp black nose and a wide grin. Oh, such a polite gentleman!