shut them up in a coop, and never let them get away again.

The thought of that frightened the other ducklings—only Squdge said stoutly, “She couldn’t catch me! I can peck too hard and run too fast, and I wish you would take me there some time, mother, just to see it all.”

Mother Duck made no answer, for looking up she saw that rain-clouds were gathering over head.

“Hurry, children, hurry,” she cried. “There’s going to be a storm, and we must get home before it begins.”

Down they scrambled in a great hurry, and started off through the woods as fast as they could, and they made such good time that they reached the hollow tree just as the first great drops began to fall.

They were all out of breath and rather tired, especially Curly-Tail, but as their mother said, that did not really matter as long as they had escaped a wetting.

Pinching it tight he began to pull

III

HOW cosy it was there in the dry hollow of the tree, with the rain beating harder and harder outside and streaming down the tree trunks.

After a while the ducklings got out their play-things and began to play with them, but soon they tired of this, and nestling down about their mother they begged her to tell them a story.

“A story?” said Mother Duck. “Very well. What shall it be about?”

“Tell about Wiggle-Waggle-Wisk-Tail!” cried Squdge and Queek.

“No, no; don’t tell about that,” begged Curly-Tail, almost in tears. “That’s too sad a story, mother. It always makes me cry.”

“Pshaw! I wouldn’t be such a baby as to cry over a story,” cried Squdge. “Go ahead, mother! Tell it, won’t you?”

The other four little ducklings wanted to hear it, too, so Mother Duck told Curly-Tail if she didn’t want to listen she could run over in the corner and play by herself for awhile, and when that story was finished she could come back and choose another one—any one that she liked, and her mother would tell it next.

So Curly-Tail, who was always sweet and obedient, went over in the corner and got out her doll, and began to play, while Mother Duck told the others the story.

And this is the sad tale of Wiggle-Waggle-Wisk-Tail.

They fell over backward on the ground

IV

“WIGGLE-WAGGLE-WISK-TAIL was a very naughty little duckling. He quarrelled with his brothers and sisters, and he always wanted the best of everything for himself, and, worst of all, he was often disobedient to his dear good mother. Sometimes his mother hardly knew what to do, it worried her so to have him so naughty.

“Over and over again Wiggle-Waggle’s mother had told him that he must never go out of doors when it was raining. (You know I have often told you that myself, my dears,” said Mother Duck. “It is very, very bad for little ducks to go out in the rain. Flat water, like ponds and puddles and rivers, is good for them, but when water comes down from overhead like rain, or water-falls, it is very bad for them.