But the boys went on singing and pointing at the storks, and mocking at them, excepting one of the boys whose name was Peter; he said it was a shame to make fun of animals, and would not join with them at all. The mother stork comforted her young ones, and told them not to mind. “See,” she said, “How quiet your father stands, although he is only on one leg.”
“But we are very much frightened,” said the young storks, and they drew back their heads into the nests.
The next day when the children were playing together, and saw the storks, they sang the song again—
“They will hang one,
And roast another.”
“Shall we be hanged and roasted?” asked the young storks.
“No, certainly not,” said the mother. “I will teach you to fly, and when you have learnt, we will fly into the meadows, and pay a visit to the frogs, who will bow themselves to us in the water, and cry ‘Croak, croak,’ and then we shall eat them up; that will be fun.”
“And what next?” asked the young storks.
“Then,” replied the mother, “all the storks in the country will assemble together, and go through their autumn manoeuvres, so that it is very important for every one to know how to fly properly. If they do not, the general will thrust them through with his beak, and kill them. Therefore you must take pains and learn, so as to be ready when the drilling begins.”
“Then we may be killed after all, as the boys say; and hark! they are singing again.”