Once upon a time there lived in a village in some country (I do not know where, but certainly nowhere near here), an old man and an old woman who were very poor indeed. They had never been able to save a single penny. They had no farm, not even a garden. They had nothing but a little Duck that walked around on her two feet every day, singing the song of famine. "Quack! quack! Who will give me a piece of bread? Quack! quack! Who will give me a piece of bread?" This little Duck was so small that she was named Teenchy Duck.

It so happened one day that Teenchy Duck was paddling in the water near the river's edge when she saw a fine purse filled with gold. At once she began to flap her wings and cry: "Quack! quack! Who has lost his beautiful money? Quack! quack! Who has lost his beautiful money?"

Just at that moment the Prince of the Seven Golden Cows passed along the road. He was richer than all the kings and emperors, but he was mean and miserly. He walked along with a stick in his hand, and as he walked he counted in his mind the millions that he had stored away in his strong-box.

"Quack! quack! Who lost his beautiful money? Quack! quack! Who lost his beautiful money?" cried Teenchy Duck.

"I have lost it," brazenly exclaimed the Prince of the Seven Golden Cows, and then he seized the purse full of money that Teenchy Duck held in her bill, and went on his way.

The poor Puddle Duck was so astonished at this that she could scarcely stand on her feet.

"Well, well!" she exclaimed, "that rich lord has kept all for himself and given me nothing. May he be destroyed by a pestilence!"

Teenchy Duck at once ran to her master, and told him what had happened. When her master learned the value of what Teenchy Duck had found, and the trick that had been played on her by the Prince of the Seven Golden Cows, he went into a violent rage.

"Why, you big simpleton!" he exclaimed, "you find money and you do not bring it to us? You give it to a big lord, who did not lose it, when we poor people need it, so much. Go out of this house instantly, and don't dare to come back until you have brought me the purse of gold!"

Unfortunate Teenchy Duck trembled in all her limbs, and made herself small and humble; but she found voice to say:

"You are right, my master! I go at once to find the Prince of the Seven Golden Cows."

But once out of doors the poor Puddle Duck thought to herself sorrowfully: "How and where can I find the Prince who was so mean as to steal the beautiful money?"

Teenchy Duck was so bewildered that she began to strike her head against the rocks in despair. Suddenly an idea came into her mind. She would follow his tracks, and the marks that his walking-stick made in the ground until she came to the castle of the Prince of the Seven Golden Cows.

No sooner thought than done. Teenchy Duck went waddling down the road in the direction taken by the miserly Prince, crying, with all her might:

"Quack! quack! Give me back my beautiful money! Quack! quack! Give me back my beautiful money!"

Brother Fox, who was taking his ease a little way from the road, heard Teenchy Duck's cries, and knew her voice. He went to her and said:

"What in the world is the matter with you, my poor Teenchy Duck? You look sad and broken-hearted."

"I have good reason to be," said Teenchy Duck. "This morning, while paddling in the river, I found a purse full of gold, and gave it to the Prince of the Seven Golden Cows, thinking it was his. But now, here comes my master and asks me for it, and says he will kill me if I do not bring it to him pretty soon."

"Well, where are you going in this style?" asked Brother Fox.

"I am going straight to the Prince of the Seven Golden Cows," said Teenchy Duck.

"Shall I go with you?" asked Brother Fox.

"I'd be only too glad if you would," exclaimed Teenchy Duck.

"But how can I go?" said Brother Fox.

"Get in my satchel," said Teenchy Duck, "and I'll carry you the best I know how."

"It isn't big enough," said Brother Fox.

"It will stretch," said Teenchy Duck. So Brother Fox got in the satchel, and Teenchy Duck went waddling along the road, crying: "Quack! quack! Give me back my beautiful money!"

She had not gone far when she met Brother Wolf, who was passing that way.

"What are you crying so for?" he inquired. "One would think you were going to die on the journey."

"It is only too true," said Teenchy Duck, and then she told Brother Wolf about finding the money-purse, just as she had told Brother Fox.

"Perhaps I can be of some service to you," said Brother Wolf. "Shall I go with you?"

"I am willing," said Teenchy Duck.

"But how can I go so far?" Brother Wolf asked.

"Get in my satchel," said Teenchy Duck, "and I'll carry you as I can."

"It is too small," said Brother Wolf.

"It will stretch mightily," said Teenchy Duck.

Then Brother Wolf went to keep company with Brother Fox.

Teenchy Duck went on her way again. She didn't walk very fast, for her satchel was heavy; but she never ceased crying: "Quack! quack! Give me back my beautiful money."

Now it happened, as she was going along, she came up with a Ladder, which said, without asking after her health:

"My poor Teenchy Duck! You do not seem to be very happy."

"I should think not!" exclaimed Teenchy Duck.

"What can the matter be?" the Ladder asked.

Teenchy Duck then told her story over again.

"I am not doing anything at present," said the Ladder; "shall I go with you?"

"Yes," said Teenchy Duck.

"But how can I go, I who never walk?" inquired the Ladder.

"Why, get in my satchel," said Teenchy Duck, "and I'll carry you the best I know how."

The Ladder was soon in the satchel with Brother Fox and Brother Wolf, and Teenchy Duck went on her way, following the tracks of the Prince of the Seven Golden Cows, and always crying:

"Quack! quack! Give me back my beautiful money!"

Going along and crying thus, Teenchy Duck came to her best and oldest friend, the River.

"What are you doing here?" said the River, in astonishment, "and why are you crying so? When I saw you this morning you seemed to be very happy."

"Ah!" said Teenchy Duck, "would you believe it? I have not eaten since yesterday."

"And why not?" asked the sympathetic River.

"You saw me find the purse of gold," said Teenchy Duck, "and you saw the Prince seize it. Ah, well! my master will kill me if I do not get it and return it to him."

"Sometimes," the River replied, "a little help does a great deal of good. Shall I go with you?"

"I should be very happy," said Teenchy Duck.

"But how can I follow you—I that have no limbs?" said the River.

"Get in my satchel," said Teenchy Duck. "I'll carry you as I can."

Then the River got in the satchel by the side of the other friends of Teenchy Duck.

She went on her journey, keeping her eyes on the ground, so as not to lose sight of the tracks of the thief, but still crying for her beautiful money. On her way she came to a Bee-Hive, which had a mind to laugh because Teenchy Duck was carrying such a burden.

"Hey, my poor Teenchy Duck! What a big, fat satchel you have there!" said the Bee-Hive.

"I'm not in the humor for joking, my dear," said Teenchy Duck.

"Why are you so sad?"

"I have been very unfortunate, good little people," said Teenchy Duck, addressing herself to the Bees, and then she told her story.

"Shall we go with you?" asked the Bees.

"Yes, yes!" exclaimed Teenchy Duck. "In these days of sorrow I stand in need of friends."

"How shall we follow you?" asked the Bees.

"Get in my satchel," said Teenchy Duck. "I'll carry you the best I know how."

Then the Bees shook their wings for joy and swarmed into the satchel along with the other friends of Teenchy Duck.

She resumed her journey, always crying for the return of her beautiful money. She walked and walked without stopping to rest a moment, until her legs almost refused to carry her. At last, just as night was coming on, Teenchy Duck saw with joy that the tracks of the Prince of the Seven Golden Cows stopped at the iron gate that barred the way to a splendid castle.

"Ah!" she exclaimed, "I have arrived at my journey's end, and I have no need to knock on the gate. I will creep under."

Teenchy Duck entered the grounds and cried out: "Quack! quack! Give me my beautiful money!"

The Prince heard her and laughed scornfully. How could a poor Teenchy Duck compel a great lord to return the purse of gold?

Teenchy Duck continued to cry:

"Quack! quack! Give me back my beautiful money!"

It was night, and the Prince of the Seven Golden Cows ordered one of his servants to take Teenchy Duck and shut her up in the hennery with the turkeys, the geese, and the chickens, thinking that these fowls would kill the stranger, and that her disagreeable song would forever be at an end.

This order was immediately carried out by the servant, but no sooner had Teenchy Duck entered the hennery than she exclaimed:

"Brother Fox, if you do not come to my assistance I am lost!"

Brother Fox came out of the satchel promptly, and worked so well at his trade that of all the fowls he found there not one remained alive.

At break of day the servant-girl, whose business it was to attend to the poultry-yard, opened the door of the hennery, and was astounded to see Teenchy Duck come out, singing the same old song:

"Quack! quack! Give me back my beautiful money!"

The astonished girl immediately ran and told her master, the Prince, what had happened, and the wife of the Prince, who had at that moment learned all, said to her husband:

"This Duck is a Witch. Give her the money, or it will bring us bad luck."

The Prince of the Seven Golden Cows refused to listen to any advice. He believed that the fox had only happened to enter his hennery by accident.

Teenchy Duck made herself heard all day, and at night the Prince said to his servants:

"Take this squaller and throw her in the stable under the feet of the mules and horses. We will see in the morning what she will say."

The servants obeyed, and Teenchy Duck immediately cried:

"Brother Wolf, if you do not come quickly to my aid I shall be killed."

Brother Wolf made no delay, and it was not long before he had destroyed the horses and the mules. Next morning, before day, the servants went to get the animals to put them to the ploughs and wagons; but when they saw them lying dead their astonishment was indescribable. In the stable Teenchy Duck stood alone, singing, in her most beautiful voice:

"Quack! quack! Give me back my beautiful money!"

When the Prince of the Seven Golden Cows heard of this disaster he became white with rage, and in his fury he wanted to give his servants a thousand lashes for not having taken necessary precautions against the Wolf. But his wife calmed him little by little, saying:

"My husband, give back to Teenchy Duck this purse you have taken, or else we shall be ruined."

"No," cried the Prince, "she shall never have it!"

All this time Teenchy Duck was promenading up and down, to the right and to the left, singing, at the top of her voice:

"Quack! quack! Give me back my beautiful money!"

"Heavens!" said the Prince, stopping his ears, "I am tired of hearing this ugly fowl squall and squawk. Quick! throw her in the well or the furnace, so that we may be rid of her."

"What shall we do first?" the servants asked.

"It matters not," said the Prince, "so long as we are rid of her."

The servants took Teenchy Duck and threw her in the well, thinking this the easiest and the quickest way to dispose of her.

As Teenchy Duck was falling, she cried: "Come to my assistance, good Ladder, or I am undone."

The Ladder immediately came out of the satchel, and leaned against the walls of the well. Teenchy Duck came up the rounds, singing:

"Quack, quack! Give me back my beautiful money!"

Everybody was astonished, and the Prince's wife kept saying: "Give this witch her money."

"They would say that I am afraid of a Teenchy Duck," said the Prince of the Seven Golden Cows. "I will never give it up." Then, speaking to his servants, he said: "Heat the oven; heat it to a white heat, and throw this witch in."

The servants were compelled to obey, but they were so frightened that none dared touch her. At last, one bolder than the rest seized her by the end of the wing and threw her in the red-hot oven. Everybody thought that this was the end of Teenchy Duck, but she had had time to cry out:

"Oh, my dear friend River, come to my assistance, or I shall be roasted."

The River rushed out and quenched the fire and cooled the oven.

When the Prince went to see what was left of Teenchy Duck, she met him, and began to repeat her familiar refrain:

"Quack, quack! Give me back my beautiful money!"

The Prince of the Seven Golden Cows was furious.

"You are all blockheads!" he cried to his servants. "You never knew how to do anything. Get out of here! I will drive you off the place! Hereafter I will take charge of this fiend myself."

That night, before retiring, the Prince and his wife went and got Teenchy Duck, and prepared to give her such a beating as they had no doubt would cause her death.

Fortunately, Teenchy Duck saw the danger and cried out:

"Friend Bees! come out and help me."

A buzzing sound was heard, and then the Bees swarmed on the Prince and his wife, and stung them so terribly that they became frightful to behold.

"Return the money to this ugly witch," groaned the unfortunate wife. "Run, or we are done for."

The Prince did not wait to be told twice. He ran and got the purse full of gold, and returned it to Teenchy Duck.

"Here," said he, "I am conquered. But get out of my grounds quickly."

Full of joy, Teenchy Duck went out into the road singing: "Quack, quack! I have got my beautiful money! Quack, quack! Here is my beautiful money!"

On her way home she returned the friends that had aided her to the places where she had found them, thanking them kindly for their assistance in time of need.

At break of day Teenchy Duck found herself at her master's door. She aroused him by her loud cries. After that, the family was rich, but the master and mistress were not happy, for they knew the money did not belong to them.

Teenchy Duck was well taken care of, and grew to be large and fat. If she went to the village pond at all, it was only to take a bath with her comrades and to tell a certain Duck of her remarkable exploit of recovering the beautiful money.