Country Duck Follows City Duck

Mable stared at the duck walking toward her. He was dressed in a suit, carrying a briefcase. Hello! She said. Who are you? Where are you going? She thought he was deaf, for he did not answer. She grabbed him by the tail feathers and said “Hi!” “I am Mable!” she told him. “I live in the north pond.” He stared at her, shocked. Obviously a New York duck. She had been on their sidewalks once. No talking. She decided she had better help him out, so she changed direction. She told him about the neighbors, the cows, the pigs, the lambs. He kept nodding, but walked faster and faster and faster. “I see you have met my sister!” A familiar voice. She turned to see her cousin Gladys, who never came to the country. The male duck turned and stared at her, as if she was an alien. “He’s my husband,” Gladys told her. “City duck. Afraid of the country.” Mable nodded. She had seen this before plenty of times.