After some time a large White Duck swam up to him. She had yellow
legs, and webbed feet, and was considered a great beauty on account
of her waddle.

"Quack, quack, quack," she said. "What a curious shape you are!
May I ask were you born like that, or is it the result of an
accident?"

"It is quite evident that you have always lived in the country,"
answered the Rocket, "otherwise you would know who I am. However,
I excuse your ignorance. It would be unfair to expect other people
to be as remarkable as oneself. You will no doubt be surprised to
hear that I can fly up into the sky, and come down in a shower of
golden rain."

"I don't think much of that," said the Duck, "as I cannot see what
use it is to any one. Now, if you could plough the fields like the
ox, or draw a cart like the horse, or look after the sheep like the
collie-dog, that would be something."

"My good creature," cried the Rocket in a very haughty tone of
voice, "I see that you belong to the lower orders. A person of my
position is never useful. We have certain accomplishments, and
that is more than sufficient. I have no sympathy myself with
industry of any kind, least of all with such industries as you seem
to recommend. Indeed, I have always been of opinion that hard work
is simply the refuge of people who have nothing whatever to do."

"Well, well," said the Duck, who was of a very peaceable