Funny Frank (13 page)

“I like it!” cried the speckled pullet. “Sounds nice. You're Frank, I'm Gorgeous.”

“Oh my!” said Mildred from where she and Gertie were standing. “How I should love to know what they're saying!”

Normally Gertie would have replied to such a remark with a cutting answer such as “The world would be a better place if everybody minded their own business.” But now she stood in a kind of daze, staring at her handsome hero of a son and the new arrival. She looks to be wellbred,
she thought, and that speckled color is so distinguished. I bet she will lay the brownest of eggs. Then she saw the pullet run off down the orchard, pursued by her boy.

“Don't they make a lovely couple, dear!” said Mildred.“You'll be having more pretty grandchildren one of these fine days.”

“Mildred,” said Gertie dreamily, “for once, you're right.”

The rest of the flock had been staring too, first at Frank's new look, and then at the very pretty pullet. The ducks, too, watched the proceedings with much interested quacking.

“We miss Frank,” those ducks that had
once been his little duckling friends said to their father, the big white drake. “D'you think he'll ever come swimming with us again, Dad?”

“He will not,” said the drake. “However, there's nothing to stop you from walking out of the pond to go have a chat with him and his girlfriend whenever you want to. He's a nice boy, Frank is, but it wasn't wise of him to try and be a duck. Ducks are cleverer than chickens, you see. We can walk about
and
we can swim. Chickens can only walk about. They can't swim.”

That afternoon Carrie Tabb tempted her brother-in-law the vet to come over to tea
(she'd just made a fresh batch of fruit scones), and so the four of them—Tom, Carrie, Jemima, and her Uncle Ted—leaned on the orchard gate and watched as Frank strutted proudly past, Gorgeous at his side.

“Funny, Frank, wasn't he?” said Jemima.

“How d'you mean?” they said.

“Well, wanting so much to be a duck. He doesn't anymore, does he?”

“He's found his true place,” they said.

“And his true love!” said Jemima, and they all smiled happily.

Frank and Gorgeous stood wing tip to wing tip by the edge of the duck pond.

Frank's friends swam by, loudly quacking his name in greeting.

“Poor things!” said Gorgeous, tossing her pretty head. “Sploshing about in that cold stuff. Why, water should only be for drinking!”

“I suppose so,” said Frank, “but don't you ever think it would be nice to be able to swim?”

“To swim?” cried Gorgeous.“A chicken, swimming? Oh, Frank, you are funny!”