The Adventures of Poor Mrs. Quack
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Thornton W. Burgess >> The Adventures of Poor Mrs. Quack
Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading
Team.
The Bedtime Story-Books
THE ADVENTURES OF POOR MRS. QUACK
BY
THORNTON W. BURGESS
Author of "Old Mother West Wind," "The Bedtime Story-Books," etc.
CONTENTS
I. Peter Rabbit Becomes Acquainted with Mrs. Quack
II. Mrs. Quack is Distrustful
III. Mrs. Quack Tells About Her Home
IV. Mrs. Quack Continues Her Story
V. Peter Learns More of Mrs. Quack's Troubles
VI. Farmer Brown's Boy Visits the Smiling Pool
VII. Mrs. Quack Returns
VIII. Mrs. Quack Has a Good Meal and a Rest
IX. Peter Rabbit Makes an Early Call
X. How Mr. and Mrs. Quack Started North
XI. The Terrible, Terrible Guns
XII. What Did Happen to Mr. Quack
XIII. Peter Tells About Mrs. Quack
XIV. Sammy Jay's Plan to Help Mrs. Quack
XV. The Hunt for Mr. Quack
XVI. Sammy Jay Sees Something Green
XVII. Mr. Quack Is Found at Last
XVIII.Sammy Jay Sends Mrs. Quack to the Swamp
XIX. Jerry Muskrat's Great Idea
XX. Happy Days for Mr. and Mrs. Quack
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
"Marshes must be something like swamps," ventured Peter Rabbit
Frontispiece
Several times she circled around, high over the Smiling Pool
"Some folks call him Alligator and some just 'Gator"
"Just tuck that fact away in that empty head of yours and never
say can't"
"Yes," said he in a low voice, "I am Mr. Quack"
Those were happy days indeed for Mr. and Mrs. Quack in the pond
of Paddy the Beaver
I
PETER RABBIT BECOMES ACQUAINTED WITH MRS. QUACK
Make a new acquaintance every time you can; You'll find it
interesting and a very helpful plan.
It means more knowledge. You cannot meet any one without learning
something from him if you keep your ears open and your eyes open.
Every one is at least a little different from every one else, and
the more people you know, the more you may learn. Peter Rabbit
knows this, and that is one reason he always is so eager to find out
about other people. He had left Jimmy Skunk and Bobby Coon in the
Green Forest and had headed for the Smiling Pool to see if Grandfather
Frog was awake yet. He had no idea of meeting a stranger there, and
so you can imagine just how surprised he was when he got in sight
of the Smiling Pool to see some one whom he never had seen before
swimming about there. He knew right away who it was. He knew that
it was Mrs. Quack the Duck, because he had often heard about her. And
then, too, it was very clear from her looks that she was a cousin
of the ducks he had seen in Farmer Brown's dooryard. The difference
was that while they were big and white and stupid-looking, Mrs.
Quack was smaller, brown, very trim, and looked anything but stupid.
Peter was so surprised to see her in the Smiling Pool that he almost
forgot to be polite. I am afraid he stared in a very impolite way
as he hurried to the edge of the bank. "I suppose," said Peter,
"that you are Mrs. Quack, but I never expected to see you unless I
should go over to the Big River, and that is a place I never have
visited and hardly expect to because it is too far from the dear
Old Briar-patch. You are Mrs. Quack, aren't you?"
"Yes," replied Mrs. Quack, "and you must be Peter Rabbit. I've heard
of you very often." All the time Mrs. Quack was swimming back and
forth and in little circles in the most uneasy way.
"I hope you've heard nothing but good of me," replied Peter.
Mrs. Quack stopped her uneasy swimming for a minute and almost
smiled as she looked at Peter, "The worst I have heard is that you
are very curious about other people's affairs," said she.
Peter looked a wee, wee bit foolish, and then he laughed right out.
"I guess that is true enough," said he. "I like to learn all I can,
and how can I learn without being curious? I'm curious right now.
I'm wondering what brings you to the Smiling Pool when you never
have been here before. It is the last place in the world I ever
expected to find you."
"That's why I'm here," replied Mrs. Quack. "I hope others feel the
same way. I came here because I just HAD to find some place where
people wouldn't expect to find me and so wouldn't come looking for
me. Little Joe Otter saw me yesterday on the Big River and told me
of this place, and so, because I just had to go somewhere, I came
here."
Peter's eyes opened very wide with surprise. "Why," he exclaimed,
"I should think you would be perfectly safe on the Big River! I
don't see how any harm can possibly come to you out there."
The words were no sooner out of Peter's mouth than a faint bang
sounded from way off towards the Big River. Mrs. Quack gave a great
start and half lifted her wings as if to fly. But she thought better
of it, and then Peter saw that she was trembling all over.
"Did you hear that?" she asked in a faint voice.
Peter nodded. "That was a gun, a terrible gun, but it was a long
way from here," said he.
"It was over on the Big River," said Mrs. Quack. "That's why it
isn't safe for me over there. That's why I just had to find some
other place. Oh, dear, the very sound of a gun sets me to shaking
and makes my heart feel as if it would stop beating. Are you sure
I am perfectly safe here?"
"Perfectly," spoke up Jerry Muskrat, who had been listening from
the top of the Big Rock, where he was lunching on a clam, "unless
you are not smart enough to keep out of the clutches of Reddy Fox
or Old Man Coyote or Hooty the Owl or Redtail the Hawk."
"I'm not afraid of THEM," declared Mrs. Quack. "It's those two-legged
creatures with terrible guns I'm afraid of," and she began to swim
about more uneasily than ever.
II
MRS. QUACK IS DISTRUSTFUL
Jerry Muskrat thinks there is no place in the world like the Smiling
Pool. So, for the matter of that, does Grandfather Frog and also
Spotty the Turtle. You see, they have spent their lives there and
know little about the rest of the Great World. When Mrs. Quack
explained that all she feared was that a two-legged creature with
a terrible gun might find her there, Jerry Muskrat hastened to tell
her that she had nothing to worry about on that account.
"No one hunts here now that Farmer Brown's boy has put away his
terrible gun," explained Jerry. "There was a time when he used to
hunt here and set traps, which are worse than terrible guns, but
that was long ago, before he knew any better."
"Who is Farmer Brown's boy?" demanded Mrs. Quack, looking more
anxious than ever. "Is he one of those two-legged creatures?"
"Yes," said Peter Rabbit, who had been listening with all his ears,
"but he is the best friend we Quaddies have got. He is such a good
friend that he ought to be a Quaddy himself. Why, this last winter
he fed some of us when food was scarce, and he saved Mrs. Grouse
when she was caught in a snare, which you know is a kind of trap.
He won't let any harm come to you here, Mrs. Quack."
"I wouldn't trust him, not for one single little minute," declared
Mrs. Quack. "I wouldn't trust one of those two-legged creatures,
not ONE. You say he fed some of you last winter, but that doesn't
mean anything good. Do you know what I've known these two-legged
creatures to do?"
"What?" demanded Peter and Jerry together.
"I've known them to scatter food where we Ducks would be sure to
find it and to take the greatest care that nothing should frighten
us while we were eating. And then, after we had got in the habit
of feeding in that particular place and had grown to feel perfectly
safe there, they have hidden close by until a lot of us were feeding
together and then fired their terrible guns and killed a lot of
my friends and dreadfully hurt a lot more. I wouldn't trust one of
them, not ONE!" "Oh, how dreadful!" cried Peter, looking quite as
shocked as he felt. Then he added eagerly, "But our Farmer Brown's
boy wouldn't do anything like that. You haven't the least thing to
fear from him."
"Perhaps not," said Mrs. Quack, shaking her head doubtfully, "but
I wouldn't trust him. I wouldn't trust him as far off as I could
see him. The Smiling Pool is a very nice place, although it is
dreadfully small, but if Farmer Brown's boy is likely to come over
here, I guess I better look for some other place, though goodness
knows where I will find one where I will feel perfectly safe."
"You are safe right here, if you have sense enough to stay here,"
declared Jerry Muskrat rather testily. "Don't you suppose Peter
and I know what we are talking about?"
"I wish I could believe so," returned Mrs. Quack sadly, "but if
you had been through what I've been through, and suffered what I've
suffered, you wouldn't believe any place safe, and you certainly
wouldn't trust one of those two-legged creatures. Why, for weeks
they haven't given me a chance to get a square meal, and--and--I
don't know what has become of Mr. Quack, and I'm all alone!" There
was a little sob in her voice and tears in her eyes.
"Tell us all about it," begged Peter. "Perhaps we can help you."
III
MRS. QUACK TELLS ABOUT HER HOME
"It's a long story," said Mrs. Quack, shaking the tears from her
eyes, "and I hardly know where to begin."
"Begin at the beginning," said Jerry Muskrat. "Your home is somewhere
way up in the Northland where Honker the Goose lives, isn't it?"
Mrs. Quack nodded. "I wish I were there this very minute," she
replied, the tears coming again. "But sometimes I doubt if ever
I'll get there again. You folks who don't have to leave your homes
every year don't know how well off you are or how much you have to
be thankful for."
"I never could understand what people want to leave their homes
for, anyway," declared Peter.
"We don't leave because we want to, but because we HAVE to," replied
Mrs. Quack, "and we go back just as soon as we can. What would you
do if you couldn't find a single thing to eat?"
"I guess I'd starve," replied Peter simply.
"I guess you would, and that is just what we would do, if we didn't
take the long journey south when Jack Frost freezes everything
tight up there where my home is," returned Mrs. Quack. "He comes
earlier up there and stays twice as long as he does here, and
makes ten times as much ice and snow. We get most of our food in
the water or in the mud under the water, as of course you know,
and when the water is frozen, there isn't a scrap of anything we
can get to eat. We just HAVE to come south. It isn't because we
want to, but because we must! There is nothing else for us to do."
"Then I don't see what you want to make your home in such a place
for," said practical Peter. "I should think you would make it where
you can live all the year around."
"I was born up there, and I love it just as you love the dear Old
Briar-patch," replied Mrs. Quack simply. "It is home, and there
is no place like home. Besides, it is a very beautiful and a very
wonderful place in summer. There is everything that Ducks and Geese
love. We have all we want of the food we love best. Everywhere is
shallow water with tall grass growing in it."
"Huh!" interrupted Peter, "I wouldn't think much of a place like
that." "That's because you don't know what is good," snapped Jerry
Muskrat. "It would suit me," he added, with shining eyes.
"There are the dearest little islands just made for safe nesting-places,"
continued Mrs. Quack, without heeding the interruptions. "And the
days are long, and it is easy to hide, and there is nothing to
fear, for two-legged creatures with terrible guns never come there."
"If there is nothing to fear, why do you care about places to hide?"
demanded Peter.
"Well, of course, we have enemies, just as you do here, but they
are natural enemies,--Foxes and Minks and Hawks and Owls," explained
Mrs. Quack. "Of course, we have to watch out for them and have
places where we can hide from them, but it is our wits against their
wits, and it is our own fault if we get caught. That is perfectly
fair, so we don't mind that. It is only men who are not fair. They
don't know what fairness is."
Peter nodded that he understood, and Mrs. Quack went on. "Last
summer Mr. Quack and I had our nest on the dearest little island,
and no one found it. First we had twelve eggs, and then twelve of
the dearest babies you ever saw." "Maybe," said Peter doubtfully,
thinking of his own babies.
"They grew so fast that by the time the cold weather came, they
were as big as their father and mother," continued Mrs. Quack.
"And they were smart, too. They had learned how to take care of
themselves just as well as I could. I certainly was proud of that
family. But now I don't know where one of them is."
Mrs. Quack suddenly choked up with grief, and Peter Rabbit politely
turned his head away.
IV
MRS. QUACK CONTINUES HER STORY
When Mrs. Quack told of her twelve children and how she didn't know
where one of them was, Peter Rabbit and Jerry Muskrat knew just
how badly she was feeling, and they turned their heads away and
pretended that they didn't see her tears. In a few minutes she
bravely went on with her story.
"When Jack Frost came and we knew it was time to begin the long
journey, Mr. Quack and myself and our twelve children joined
with some other Duck families, and with Mr. Quack in the lead, we
started for our winter home, which really isn't a home but just a
place to stay. For a while we had nothing much to fear. We would
fly by day and at night rest in some quiet lake or pond or on some
river, with the Great Woods all about us or sometimes great marshes.
Perhaps you don't know what marshes are. If the Green Meadows here
had little streams of water running every which way through them,
and the ground was all soft and muddy and full of water, and the
grass grew tall, they would be marshes."
Jerry Muskrat's eyes sparkled. "I would like a place like that!"
he exclaimed.
"You certainly would," replied Mrs. Quack. "We always find lots of
your relatives in such places."
"Marshes must be something like swamps," ventured Peter Rabbit,
who had been thinking the matter over.
"Very much the same, only with grass and rushes in place of trees
and bushes," replied Mrs. Quack. "There is plenty to eat and the
loveliest hiding-places. In some of these we stayed days at a time.
In fact, we stayed until Jack Frost came to drive us out. Then as
we flew, we began to see the homes of these terrible two-legged
creatures called men, and from that time on we never knew a minute
of peace, excepting when we were flying high in the air or far out
over the water. If we could have just kept flying all the time or
never had to go near the shore, we would have been all right. But
we had to eat."
"Of course," said Peter. "Everybody has to eat."
"And we had to rest," said Mrs. Quack.
"Certainly," said Peter. "Everybody has to do that."
"And to eat we had to go in close to shore where the water was
not at all deep, because it is only in such places that we can get
food," continued Mrs. Quack. "It takes a lot of strength to fly
as we fly, and strength requires plenty of food. Mr. Quack knew all
the best feeding-places, for he had made the long journey several
times, so every day he would lead the way to one of these. He always
chose the wildest and most lonely looking places he could find, as
far as possible from the homes of men, but even then he was never
careless. He would lead us around back and forth over the place
he had chosen, and we would all look with all our might for signs
of danger. If we saw none, we would drop down a little nearer and
a little nearer. But with all our watchfulness, we never could be
sure, absolutely sure, that all was safe. Sometimes those terrible
two-legged creatures would be hiding in the very middle of the
wildest, most lonely looking marshes. They would be covered with
grass so that we couldn't see them. Then, as we flew over them,
would come the bang, bang, bang, bang of terrible guns, and always
some of our flock would drop. We would have to leave them behind,
for we knew if we wanted to live we must get beyond the reach of
those terrible guns. So we would fly our hardest. It was awful,
just simply awful!"
Mrs. Quack paused and shuddered, and Peter Rabbit and Jerry Muskrat
shuddered in sympathy.
"Sometimes we would have to try three or four feeding-places before
we found one where there were no terrible guns. And when we did
find one, we would be so tired and frightened that we couldn't
enjoy our food, and we didn't dare to sleep without some one on
watch all the time. It was like that every day. The farther we got,
the worse it became. Our flock grew smaller and smaller. Those who
escaped the terrible guns would be so frightened that they would
forget to follow their leader and would fly in different directions
and later perhaps join other flocks. So it was that when at last we
reached the place in the sunny Southland for which we had started,
Mr. Quack and I were alone. What became of our twelve children I
don't know. I am afraid the terrible guns killed some. I hope some
joined other flocks and escaped, but I don't know."
"I hope they did too," said Peter.
V
PETER LEARNS MORE OF MRS. QUACK'S TROUBLES
It often happens when we know The troubles that our friends
pass through, Our own seem very small indeed; You'll
always find that this is true.
"My, you must have felt glad when you reached your winter home!"
exclaimed Peter Rabbit when Mrs. Quack finished the account of her
long, terrible journey from her summer home in the far Northland
to her winter home in the far Southland.
"I did," replied Mrs. Quack, "but all the time I couldn't forget
those to whom terrible things had happened on the way down, and
then, too, I kept dreading the long journey back."
"I don't see why you didn't stay right there. I would have," said
Peter, nodding his head with an air of great wisdom.
"Not if you were I," replied Mrs. Quack. "In the first place it
isn't a proper place in which to bring up young Ducks and make them
strong and healthy. In the second place there are more dangers down
there for young Ducks than up in the far Northland. In the third
place there isn't room for all the Ducks to nest properly. And
lastly there is a great longing for our real home, which Old Mother
Nature has put in our hearts and which just MAKES us go. We couldn't
be happy if we didn't."
"Is the journey back as bad as the journey down?" asked Peter.
"Worse, very much worse," replied Mrs. Quack sadly. "You can see
for yourself just how bad it is, for here I am all alone." Tears
filled Mrs. Quack's eyes. "It is almost too terrible to talk about,"
she continued after a minute. "You see, for one thing, food isn't
as plentiful as it is in the fall, and we just have to go wherever
it is to be found. Those two-legged creatures know where those
feeding-grounds are just as well as we do, and they hide there with
their terrible guns just as they did when we were coming south.
But it is much worse now, very much worse. You see, when we were
going the other way, if we found them at one place we could go on
to another, but when we are going north we cannot always do that.
We cannot go any faster than Jack Frost does. Sometimes we are
driven out of a place by the bang, bang of the terrible guns and go
on, only to find that we have caught up with Jack Frost, and that
the ponds and the rivers are still covered with ice. Then there
is nothing to do but to turn back to where those terrible guns are
waiting for us. We just HAVE to do it."
Mrs. Quack stopped and shivered. "It seems to me I have heard nothing
but the noise of those terrible guns ever since we started," said
she. "I haven't had a good square meal for days and days, nor a
good rest. That is what makes me so dreadfully nervous. Sometimes,
when we had been driven from place to place until we had caught up
with Jack Frost, there would be nothing but ice excepting in small
places in a river where the water runs too swiftly to freeze. We
would just have to drop into one of these to rest a little, because
we had flown so far that our wings ached as if they would drop
off. Then just as we would think we were safe for a little while,
there would come the bang of a terrible gun. Then we would have
to fly again as long as we could, and finally come back to the same
place because there was no other place where we could go. Then we
would have to do it all over again until night came. Sometimes I
think that those men with terrible guns must hate us and want to
kill every one of us. If they didn't, they would have a little bit
of pity. They simply haven't any hearts at all."
"It does seem so," agreed Peter. "But wait until you know Farmer
Brown's boy! HE'S got a heart!" he added brightly.
"I don't want to know him," retorted Mrs. Quack. "If he comes near
here, you'll see me leave in a hurry. I wouldn't trust one of them,
not one minute. You don't think he will come, do you?"
Peter sat up and looked across the Green Meadows, and his heart
sank. "He's coming now, but I'm sure he won't hurt you, Mrs. Quack,"
said he.
But Mrs. Quack wouldn't wait to see. With a hasty promise to come
back when the way was clear, she jumped into the air and on swift
wings disappeared towards the Big River.
VI
FARMER BROWN'S BOY VISITS THE SMILING POOL
Farmer Brown's boy had heard Welcome Robin singing in the Old
Orchard quite as soon as Peter Rabbit had, and that song of "Cheer
up! Cheer up! Cheer up! Cheer!" had awakened quite as much gladness
in his heart as it had in Peter's heart. It meant that Mistress
Spring really had arrived, and that over in the Green Forest and
down on the Green Meadows there would soon be shy blue, and just
as shy white violets to look for, and other flowers almost if not
quite as sweet and lovely. It meant that his feathered friends would
soon be busy house-hunting and building. It meant that his little
friends in fur would also be doing something very similar, if
they had not already done so. It meant that soon there would be a
million lovely things to see and a million joyous sounds to hear.
So the sound of Welcome Robin's voice made the heart of Farmer Brown's
boy even more happy than it was before, and as Welcome Robin just
HAD to sing, so Farmer Brown's boy just HAD to whistle. When his
work was finished, it seemed to Farmer Brown's boy that something
was calling him, calling him to get out on the Green Meadows or over
in the Green Forest and share in the happiness of all the little
people there. So presently he decided that he would go down to the
Smiling Pool to find out how Jerry Muskrat was, and if Grandfather
Frog was awake yet, and if the sweet singers of the Smiling Pool
had begun their wonderful spring chorus.
Down the Crooked Little Path cross the Green Meadows he tramped,
and as he drew near the Smiling Pool, he stopped whistling lest
the sound should frighten some of the little people there. He was
still some distance from the Smiling Pool when out of it sprang a
big bird and on swift, whistling wings flew away in the direction
of the Big River. Farmer Brown's boy stopped and watched until the
bird had disappeared, and on his face was a look of great surprise.
"As I live, that was a Duck!" he exclaimed. "That is the first time
I've ever known a wild Duck to be in the Smiling Pool. I wonder
what under the sun could have brought her over here."
Just then there was a distant bang in the direction of the Big River.
Farmer Brown's boy scowled, and it made his face very angry-looking.
"That's it," he muttered. "Hunters are shooting the Ducks on their
way north and have driven the poor things to look for any little
mudhole where they can get a little rest. Probably that Duck has
been shot at so many times on the Big River that she felt safer
over here in the Smiling Pool, little as it is."
Farmer Brown's boy had guessed exactly right, as you and I know, and
as Peter Rabbit and Jerry Muskrat knew. "It's a shame, a downright
shame that any one should want to shoot birds on their way to their
nesting-grounds and that the law should let them if they do want
to. Some people haven't any hearts; they're all stomachs. I hope
that fellow who shot just now over there on the Big River didn't
hit anything, and I wish that gun of his might have kicked a little
sense of what is right and fair into his head, but of course it
didn't."
He grinned at the idea, and then he continued his way towards the
Smiling Pool. He hoped he might find another Duck there, and he
approached the Smiling Pool very, very carefully.
But when he reached a point where he could see all over the Smiling
Pool, there was no one to be seen save Jerry Muskrat sitting on
the Big Rock and Peter Rabbit on the bank on the other side. Farmer
Brown's boy smiled when he saw them. "Hello, Jerry Muskrat!" said
he. "I wonder how a bite of carrot would taste to you." He felt
in his pocket and brought out a couple of carrots. One he put on
a little tussock in the water where he knew Jerry would find it.
The other he tossed across the Smiling Pool where he felt sure Peter
would find it. Presently he noticed two or three feathers on the
water close to the edge of the bank. Mrs. Quack had left them there.
"I believe that was a Mallard Duck," said he, as he studied them.
"I know what I'll do. I'll go straight back home and get some wheat
and corn and put it here on the edge of the Smiling Pool. Perhaps
she will come back and find it."