Initial commit of ebook 78484 filesHEADmain

1 files changed, 2660 insertions, 0 deletions

diff --git a/78484-0.txt b/78484-0.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..97a4ea3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/78484-0.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,2660 @@
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78484 ***
+
+
+
+
+  Transcriber’s Note
+  Italic text displayed as: _italic_
+
+
+
+
+  NEDDY
+
+  _The Autobiography of a Donkey_
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration:
+
+  Illustrated Animal
+  Autobiographical Series
+
+  NEDDY
+
+  The Autobiography
+  of a
+  DONKEY
+
+  _Edited by_
+  Charles Welsh
+
+
+  H M CALDWELL CO.
+  BOSTON—NEW YORK
+]
+
+
+
+
+  _Copyright, 1905_
+  BY H. M. CALDWELL CO.
+
+
+  _COLONIAL PRESS_
+  _Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co.
+  Boston, U.S.A._
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE
+
+
+The leading incident of this autobiography of a donkey actually
+occurred, and the scene at the police station was described by the
+_Times_ newspaper in London at the time of the trial. Two others are
+taken from a French source.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+  CHAPTER                                                           PAGE
+     I. NEDDY’S EARLIEST RECOLLECTIONS                                11
+
+    II. NEDDY’S FIRST LESSON                                          33
+
+   III. NEDDY RUNS AWAY                                               49
+
+    IV. NEDDY’S TRICK, AND WHAT CAME OF IT                            63
+
+     V. NEDDY AT THE FAIR                                             83
+
+    VI. NEDDY CHANGES MASTERS                                         95
+
+   VII. NEDDY TRAVELS                                                117
+
+  VIII. NEDDY GETS HOME AGAIN                                        151
+
+
+
+
+LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+                                                                    PAGE
+
+  NEDDY                                                   _Frontispiece_
+
+  “I WAS NEVER TIRED OF ADMIRING MY LONG SOFT EARS”                   39
+
+  “SHE JUMPED UP QUICKLY WITH A LITTLE SCREAM”                        59
+
+  “AT LENGTH MY ADVERSARY, LOSING HIS BALANCE, FLEW OVER MY HEAD”    102
+
+  “I WAS LET OUT BY THE HOUR”                                        126
+
+  “I WENT RIGHT UP TO MY MISTRESS”                                   143
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+NEDDY’S EARLIEST RECOLLECTIONS
+
+
+
+
+NEDDY
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+  MY EARLIEST RECOLLECTIONS—I FIND MY MOTHER RATHER A DULL COMPANION—I
+  MAKE FRIENDS WITH OLD THOMAS—THE RETURN OF MY MASTER’S FAMILY—MY
+  FIRST INTERVIEW WITH MY DEAR MISTRESS—ANNIE AND I BECOME GREAT
+  FRIENDS.
+
+
+This is the Story of a Donkey written by himself! It is not the first
+time that such an indiscretion has been committed, and doubtless it
+will not be the last. And, indeed, if I did not think I had something
+pleasant to tell, I would not trespass upon your patience; but now, as
+in my old age I quietly graze through the summer days in my pleasant
+green field, or keep myself warm in my comfortable winter shed, I
+often think over my past career; and it seems to me to have been so
+full of strange events that I am induced to jot down some of its most
+stirring incidents, in the hope that, while my faults may be a warning
+to some, the good resulting from an earnest desire to do my duty may be
+a comfort and encouragement to all.
+
+My first recollection is of lying quietly down by my mother’s side on
+the soft green grass of a large field. Very pleasant it looked to me,
+as I lay there under the shadow of a great oak-tree, and looked out
+upon the sunshiny landscape; and I thought I should never be tired of
+being there quite still, and admiring all the wonderfully beautiful
+objects which met my eyes whichever way they turned.
+
+But as soon as I began to grow a little stronger, this state of
+inaction became tiresome. My curiosity was aroused to see what there
+might be beyond my own little world; and many a frisk I took away from
+my mother’s side, to peep over a hedge into another field, and amuse
+myself by looking at some animals very different from ourselves, which
+my mother said were cows; but I did not admire their shape so much as
+I did our own; and, as to their horns, I did not think them half so
+pretty as our ears. Then, when I had looked at the cows till I was
+tired, off I would gambol to where an iron fence separated our field
+from a long sloping lawn, bright with beds of many-coloured flowers.
+Every day I seemed to spy out something more beautiful than before; and
+I would gallop back to my mother, and ask her to come and look too, and
+tell me what was the name of this or that wonderful new thing.
+
+But my mother was not of so adventurous a spirit; or perhaps she was
+getting old, and did not like to be troubled with my endless questions.
+She was very ready to tell me what little she knew; but she was not the
+least desirous of increasing her own stock of knowledge.
+
+“Ah, my son!” she would say sometimes, as she gave her ears a
+melancholy shake, “I foresee there is a great deal of unhappiness in
+store for you. Why must you always be spying into that which does not
+concern you? Why are you not content to stay quietly by your mother’s
+side? When you are my age you will know the wisdom of just simply
+enjoying your tuft of grass, or drink of water, without troubling your
+head as to what the rest of the world are doing.”
+
+“Very likely,” I replied, with a kick of disdain, for I was a pert
+young donkey from my earliest years; “but as I am not so old as you
+are by a long way, you need not expect that I should consider munching
+grass from morning to night is the perfection of happiness. I want to
+know what life is, and what goes on beyond this field. I declare I get
+sick to death of hearing you munch, munch, munch, as if you had not a
+thought beyond your nose.”
+
+“Ah, my son!” said my mother, sadly, “you will know what life is soon
+enough, never fear, and what work is, and poor fare, and hard blows;
+and then, when your back aches, and your sides are sore, you will
+remember your mother’s words, and think that, if you could but get back
+again into this pleasant field, you would trouble yourself very little
+with what is going on in the outer world.”
+
+For a moment I was silent. Work, poor fare, and hard blows were not
+pleasant-sounding words. I had never heard them before, and began to
+wonder what they meant; but my mind was suddenly distracted by a sound
+behind the hedge; off I scampered to see what it might be, and, by the
+time I came back to my mother’s side, I had forgotten the expressions
+that had alarmed me, and was as full of tricks and gambols as I had
+been before.
+
+But though my mother was not fond of conversation, I gathered, from
+words which she would occasionally let fall, sufficient to make me
+understand that we belonged to a gentleman of good property; that my
+mother’s business was to draw his wife in a little carriage, she being
+in delicate health; and when I asked why I had never seen her doing
+this, she told me the family had all been away for some time, but that
+she should be glad when they came home again, for they were all very
+kind to her, and often brought her some nice things, such as a carrot,
+or some cabbage leaves, or occasionally even a small feed of grain.
+
+The idea of these dainties made my mouth water, and I began to be as
+impatient as my mother for the return of my master’s family, hoping
+that I, too, might come in for a share in her good fortune. So anxious
+was I to know when they were coming that at length my incessant teasing
+became unbearable to my mother, and she angrily told me “to go and ask
+that old man on the lawn there, for he was the only person the least
+likely to be able to gratify my curiosity.”
+
+It was very easy to say, “Ask,” but how was I to make him understand
+what I wanted to know? Not but that we were very good friends. I had
+made his acquaintance some time ago, during one of my visits to the
+iron fence which shut me out from my favourite flower-garden. At
+first, when he had come near me, I was much frightened, and scampered
+away as hard as I could; but he called out so pleasantly, “Wo—so ho,
+little Neddy!” that, though I did not know that was my name, I was sure
+he meant me, and so I summoned up courage to turn around and look him
+in the face. And a very kind face it was; and he held out his hand so
+coaxingly that I was induced to come a few steps forward; but then my
+heart misgave me, and I took two bounds back.
+
+“Whoo! little Neddy—whoo!” said the kind voice again. “Sure Thomas will
+not hurt you. Come, my little man; come and be scratched.”
+
+Such an invitation was irresistible. Again I turned, walking a few
+steps toward my new acquaintance; then I stopped.
+
+“Come! come!” said the voice again; and I made a few steps more in
+advance. Again I heard myself encouraged; and now I had approached
+near enough, by stretching out my neck, to smell whether there was any
+mischief in the hand that was stretched out toward me. No; all seemed
+safe; and the hand was held steady till I had been able to sniff all
+around it, and satisfy myself that no harm was intended me. Then the
+hand was gently raised to my head, and the pleasantest sensation I had
+ever felt in my life passed through my whole body. Oh, how soothing,
+how delightful was that rubbing and scratching! and I browsed against
+my new friend, and looked up in his face, as much as to say: “Oh, do it
+again! please, do it again!”
+
+“What! you like it, little Neddy; you like it, do you?” said the kind
+voice. “Ah! I thought we should soon be friends.”
+
+Friends I should think we were. From that day forth I was always on the
+lookout for Old Thomas; and no sooner did I see him come on to the lawn
+than I would gallop up to the iron fence, kick up my heels, and bray
+out my welcome in my loudest voice—though, by the way, I soon began to
+perceive that this was not the most pleasing style of address to my
+friend.
+
+“There, Neddy, there,” he would say; “that is quite enough of that
+noise. Be quiet; do.”
+
+At first, I must confess, my vanity was much hurt; I felt inclined to
+turn my back and take no further notice of my friend; but I was soon
+sensible that I should be the loser by such folly; and so, wisely
+endeavouring to alter my mode of salutation, I rubbed my nose against
+the iron fence, and made the softest and most whinnying tones of which
+my voice was capable. It had the desired effect. Old Thomas evidently
+saw that I had got the better of my little tempers, and was trying my
+best to be pleasant; and so he would put down his rake or his hoe, or
+leave the flowers he was tying up, and bring me a few carrots, or an
+apple or two, or something equally good; and, as he was feeding me, he
+would say, kindly:
+
+“Ah, little Neddy, you are a good-hearted little beast! full of
+spirits, but not a bit of vice about you; and you will be a rare beauty
+one of these days, that you will. How my young missus will admire you!”
+
+And then I would rub myself against his hand, and look up in his face,
+as much as to say:
+
+“Who is young missus? Tell me.”
+
+And so, by degrees, as I say, we had grown quite intimate, and I could
+understand almost everything Thomas said to me; but I was grieved to
+find he did not comprehend my meaning so easily; so that it was very
+difficult to get an answer to what I wished to ask him. Sometimes he
+would say:
+
+“Why, Neddy, you have got such intelligent eyes, you look almost as if
+you could speak. I wonder what you have got to say to me. Is it more
+carrots you want, eh, Neddy?” and he would hold out a carrot so close
+to my mouth that, though that was not what I wanted at all, for the
+life of me, I could not resist the temptation of eating it; and so
+Thomas misunderstood my meaning, and went away, thinking, perhaps, what
+a greedy little donkey I was, while all the time I was only seeking
+for instruction and information. Ah, well! I have listened since then
+to what many a man has said of his neighbour or his friend, and I have
+come to the conclusion it is not only donkeys whose earnest longings
+after truth must remain ungratified, and whose best actions are liable
+to be misinterpreted. If man cannot understand his fellow men, no
+wonder he knows very little of what we are thinking.
+
+On that day when my mother was angry with me for teasing her, and told
+me to be off and ask Old Thomas, I felt piqued and angry.
+
+“Who knows,” thought I, “perhaps I can make him tell me, and then
+there will be a triumph, for mother only sends me to him because she
+is cross, and because she thinks I shall never be able to find out.”
+So, putting on my most pleasing manners,—for we can all seem to be very
+good-humoured when we have got any end to gain by it, however cross we
+feel inside all the while,—I galloped up to the iron fence, and began
+whinnying in my most engaging tones. It was not long before I attracted
+the notice of Thomas, who, looking up from his work, said, in his
+usual kind tone:
+
+“Ah, little Neddy, you are come, are you? I have nothing for you
+to-day.”
+
+Now, though I quite understood this disappointing announcement, I was
+not one bit more inclined to go away. I had come for a particular
+purpose, and I was determined to accomplish it, if possible. Our race
+have the character of being obstinate; and, though I like to dignify
+it by the name of perseverance, I suppose I am no better than the rest
+of my species. Anyway, I began a series of gambols, such as generally
+succeeded in bringing Old Thomas to my side; but in vain. I kicked my
+best kicks, gambolled around in circles, pricked up my ears, and even
+tried a short, very short, bray. It was all to no purpose. Thomas went
+steadily on with his work, paying no attention to all my tricks. At
+length, sick of an exhibition which attracted no admirers, I was on
+the point of returning to my mother’s side, very much out of humour,
+when suddenly I saw Thomas leave off work for an instant, and, resting
+on his spade, he looked toward me. This was encouragement enough; and
+again drawing near the fence, I began rubbing my nose against it more
+wistfully than before.
+
+“Poor little Neddy!” he said, as he walked slowly up to me; “you will
+soon have a better playfellow than I am.”
+
+I pricked up my ears at these words. “Ah!” thought I, “now it is
+coming.”
+
+“You see I have no time to waste with you to-day, Neddy,” continued
+Thomas. “I have got to get the place to rights. The master’s coming
+home. Can you understand that, Neddy?”
+
+Understand it? Of course I could; and I rubbed my head against Thomas’s
+hand to ask him to go on.
+
+“And when he comes, he must not see so much as a leaf out of its
+place,” said Thomas. “No bits of carrots left by the fence, my little
+donkey. But it is not long you will be left without a bite of summat,
+I guess. When Miss Annie sees you, I am very much mistaken if she does
+not give you more than ever Old Thomas did. You will forget your old
+friend then, maybe, Neddy.”
+
+Now somehow, though his voice sounded sorrowful as he said these words,
+I was so overjoyed at having made the discovery that the family were
+returning that I paid no heed to Thomas’s grief. My only thought was to
+get back to my mother, and tell her the news as fast as possible. So,
+breaking from the kind hand that was stroking me, I turned hastily away.
+
+“Ah, it is just like ’em all!” I heard Old Thomas say. “Men and beasts,
+they be much alike; they will come fast enough if they think you have
+got anything for them; and then, when they have got all they can, off
+they go like a shot, without so much as a ‘Thank ye.’”
+
+I hardly noticed the words then. I was very young, very conceited, and
+much spoiled; but I have often thought of them since, when I have known
+what it was to have my own heart well-nigh broken by the unkindness of
+others. Ah me! it is all very well for old folks to preach. The young
+ones will never pay a whit more heed to anything we may say than we did
+to our fathers. Every one must buy his experience for himself. Happy he
+who pays least dearly for it!
+
+A day or two after my last conversation with Thomas, as I was frisking
+about the field, feeling in more than usually high spirits, I suddenly
+heard a voice exclaim:
+
+“Oh, look, look, papa! Did you ever see such a little darling?”
+
+My natural self-sufficiency leading me instantly to suppose that this
+term could apply to no other than myself, I turned immediately in the
+direction of the speaker, and for a moment stood astonished as I saw a
+beautiful little girl running toward me. Whether it was that she came
+so fast toward me, or whether it was that she was so unlike Thomas, or
+anything I had ever seen before, I cannot say; but a panic seized me,
+and without waiting to give a second look, I galloped off, and never
+stopped till I found myself safely by the side of my mother. Then I
+took courage to look up, and saw that my pursuer had also given up the
+chase.
+
+Finding this was the case, and emboldened also by seeing that my mother
+showed no sign of alarm, I peeped out again, and then went a few steps
+in advance.
+
+“Gently, Annie, gently, my love,” I heard the elder person say. “Do not
+frighten the little thing. Let us find it something to eat; it will
+come then.”
+
+“Oh, yes, papa! Thomas says it comes up every day to be fed. I will run
+and fetch some carrots; may I?”
+
+Permission being given, off ran the little girl, and by the time she
+returned, I had sufficiently mastered my emotion to approach with
+a tolerable degree of self-possession. Still, it was not without
+considerable alarm that I saw Annie come inside the fence, and walk up
+to where I was standing; and I confess I should have been glad to have
+had a protection between us. I dare say you think this was very silly;
+and so it was. But can you never remember, kind reader, the time when
+your faults or your follies made you wish to keep the fence between
+your best friend and yourself? However, this was the last time I ever
+committed such a mistake with Annie.
+
+From that day forward we became the best of friends. I never was so
+happy as when I was with her, and few days passed without two or three
+visits from her. Sometimes she would coax me back with her to the
+house, and even take me with her into one of the sitting-rooms.
+
+But I did not like those visits, and always escaped from them when I
+could. It was quite contrary to my nature to behave with the degree of
+quiet propriety which was necessary in society. My mistress schooled
+and taught me to the best of her ability, and I did what I could to
+follow her instructions; but I am afraid I was not at all an apt
+scholar. I never felt at my ease in a room fitted up with all sorts of
+strange, queer-looking things, of which I did not understand the use,
+and which I always dreaded I should knock down and destroy, and so get
+into disgrace; and I took pains to show her I only came into the house
+to obey her, and not from any wish of my own. I think she understood
+me, for she would often say, in her kind, caressing way:
+
+“Oh, Neddy! you like being out in the fields, frisking about, better
+than coming into the drawing-room. I can see that plainly enough. But,
+Neddy, you must remember you must learn to behave like a well-bred
+little donkey; for if you spend all your life frisking about on the
+grass, you will grow up so ignorant that I shall be quite ashamed of
+you. And, after all, you are much better off than I am. I sit for
+hours, and hours, and hours, quite still, learning my lessons, and
+you—you stupid little thing!—you are tired if you stand still for five
+minutes together. Ah, Neddy! you have a great deal to learn before your
+education is finished.”
+
+And so I had, though I did not know it then; and, like a thoughtless
+little creature as I was, I did not trouble my head about what was to
+take place in the future,—perfectly content to go gambolling about in
+the enjoyment of the happy present.
+
+Those were pleasant times, and my memory likes to go back to them. It
+is astonishing how fond the old are of recalling the enjoyments of
+their young days; and perhaps they are a little apt to forget that what
+is so very pleasant to themselves is rather tedious to others; so I
+shall keep the remembrance of the first three happy years of my life
+for my own consolation, and pass rapidly on to the more stirring part
+of my existence.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+NEDDY’S FIRST LESSON
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+  MY MISTRESS LEAVES HOME—ON HER RETURN I DO NOT KNOW HER—MY FIRST
+  LESSON, AND WHO WAS THE BEST MASTER.
+
+
+My master’s family had been away from home for a long, long time,—so
+long that I had almost given up hope of seeing them again, and was
+getting very impatient; besides, my life in the field was very dull.
+My mother had left it some time ago, and I never heard anything of her
+now. Not that I regretted that very much. She had long since ceased to
+think about me, and had centred all her affection upon a younger child.
+Still, as long as she was in the field, she was some sort of companion
+for me, and I was now growing to an age to be impatient of solitude,
+and to wish for more stirring occupation than wandering around and
+around the meadow by myself, and having nothing to do but to eat
+and to drink. Occasionally, indeed, I still saw Old Thomas; but our
+intercourse was not so frequent as it used to be, and, indeed, was of
+quite a different kind. I no longer felt it consistent with my dignity
+to frisk and gambol about; and even when kindnesses were offered to me,
+I could, when I pleased, assume an air of such perfect indifference
+that I think, if my mistress could have seen me, she would have
+acknowledged I was rapidly acquiring that manner of society about which
+she was always instructing me. In fact, my perfect self-possession and
+entire indifference to the feelings or comforts of any one but myself
+would not have disgraced the most well-bred exquisite in the land.
+
+Matters were in this state, when one day, as I was standing all alone
+under the oak-tree, thinking over my own perfections, and how unworthy
+my position was of my deserts, I suddenly heard a well-remembered voice
+call: “Neddy! Neddy!” Turning quickly around, I was on the point of
+going to meet the speaker, when, instead of the little girl I knew as
+my mistress, I beheld a tall, elegant-looking lady coming toward me.
+So, putting on my most dignified air, I stayed quietly under the great
+tree, lazily moving my ears, as much as to say: “Here am I; if you want
+me, you must come to me.”
+
+“What, Neddy! do you not remember me? Have you forgotten your mistress?
+Oh, Neddy, you ungrateful donkey!”
+
+She spoke so kindly, and yet so sorrowfully, that I felt pained to the
+heart, not only at my stupidity in forgetting her, but at my folly in
+having tried to play off my grand airs before her. Still, I did not
+like to acknowledge myself to have been in the wrong; and so, instead
+of doing what my heart dictated, and galloping instantly to meet her,
+I contented myself with coming a few steps forward, and then standing
+perfectly still. I was properly punished for my pride when I heard my
+mistress say, as she turned to her father, who had just joined her:
+
+“Oh, papa, would you believe it? Neddy has quite forgotten me. I have
+always heard donkeys are stupid and incapable of feeling attachment;
+but I thought Neddy would be an exception. Oh, papa, I am so sorry!”
+
+“Neddy, Neddy,” she added, as she held out her hand, “you do not know
+how you have grieved me.”
+
+To hear myself so kindly spoken to, when I had deserved such different
+treatment, completely broke down my obstinate pride, and, trotting
+up to my mistress as fast as I could, I began to rub my head against
+her hand, and to whinny out my sorrow for my past misconduct and my
+promises of amendment for the future,—excuses which my kind mistress
+was only too ready to receive; in a few minutes our reconciliation was
+complete, and I felt happier than I had done for months past.
+
+[Illustration: I was never tired of admiring my long soft ears.]
+
+“Poor Neddy!” said my kind mistress, as she continued to caress me; “I
+ought to have remembered that I am as much changed as you are yourself.
+Is he not altered, papa? He is not nearly so pretty as he was when
+he was little; but he is a very handsome donkey still. Do you not think
+so, papa?”
+
+Could there be a doubt upon such a subject? Why, the very idea put me
+into an ill-humour, so completely had I brought myself to believe that
+I was one of the most beautiful creatures in the world. Often and often
+had I stood for the hour together in the clear water of the brook which
+ran at the bottom of the field, and as I saw my image reflected in the
+water, I was never tired of admiring my long soft ears and the bright
+brown of my coat. Ah, well! when we live very much alone, we are apt to
+get very false impressions. It is only by mixing with our fellows that
+we learn to estimate our merits aright. Pushing through the world rubs
+off the sharp angles wonderfully.
+
+I was so engrossed with my own thoughts of mortified vanity that I did
+not hear what passed between Mr. Morton and his daughter, till suddenly
+my ears caught the sound:
+
+“Thomas shall break him in, my love, and then you shall drive him in
+the little chaise.”
+
+“Oh, I shall like that!” replied my mistress. “Can it be done at once,
+papa?”
+
+“Yes, directly Thomas is at leisure.”
+
+“Then good-bye, Neddy, for to-day,” continued my mistress, as she again
+patted my forehead; “we shall soon be better acquainted. I wonder
+whether you will like drawing me in the carriage as well as playing
+with me in the field. Ah, Neddy! will you be a good little donkey, and
+trot along as fast as I know you can trot when you like to?”
+
+I rubbed my head against her by way of reply, and then, when she left
+me, began to muse not overpleasantly on the words she had just spoken.
+I had no very clear idea, certainly, of what they meant, but they
+conveyed a sort of shadowy notion to my mind that my days of liberty
+were over, and that now I was to be put to some such work as I had
+often seen my mother doing. I used to remonstrate with her then, on
+allowing herself to be so tamely yoked to the chaise, drawing it about
+in all weathers, and tiring herself to death dragging it up steep hills
+and over stony roads; and when she would gravely shake her head, and
+say, with a gentle sigh: “It was her destiny; it was better to yield to
+it with a good heart, and do her duty cheerfully, than to resist and be
+beaten,” I used to jeer at her for a meek-spirited creature, who had
+not pluck enough to stand up in her own defence, and tell her when my
+turn came she would see a very different state of affairs.
+
+“My son,” my mother would reply, “if you think you have come into the
+world merely to amuse yourself, you make a very great mistake. We have
+all our allotted tasks. They must be done. Happy those who can find
+pleasure in doing them! Take my advice. You are placed here to be the
+servant of those much stronger and wiser than yourself. If you resist
+their will, you will smart for it with kicks and blows. If you try to
+do your duty faithfully, you will find it will bring its own reward.”
+
+My mother seldom made so long a speech; and, finding I paid but little
+attention, she did not again trouble me with her advice; and, indeed, I
+soon forgot her words, till they were brought back to my recollection
+by those of my young mistress, and a very uncomfortable feeling they
+gave me.
+
+The following day I was busy eating my breakfast, when I saw Thomas
+come into the field holding something in his hand. My suspicions being
+aroused, I determined to have a good look at the enemy before allowing
+his nearer approach. So, with a snort of defiance, I started back,
+prepared, if necessary, to take to my heels and be off.
+
+“So—whoo—gently, Neddy,” said Thomas. “Koop—koop, Neddy,” added Thomas,
+putting his arm behind him that I might not see what he carried in his
+hand.
+
+But this action, instead of disarming my suspicions, only excited them
+further. If no foul play was intended, what was there to conceal? and
+so, determined to be on the safe side, with a defiant kick I started
+off at a gallop, as much as to say, “Catch me who can.”
+
+I soon found out that Old Thomas’s feeble legs were no match for my
+young nimble ones; and, having the advantage, I kept it, and a pretty
+chase I led my old friend. Now, for a moment, I would stand still and
+look at him, as if I intended to give myself up his prisoner, and then,
+in an instant, just as he thought I was within his reach, I would slip
+from his touch, and be off with a gallop to the other end of the field.
+
+How long this struggle might have continued, it is impossible for me to
+say. Thomas was evidently losing both his breath and his temper, whilst
+I was only getting my wind in the enjoyment of the game. But just at
+this instant who should come into the field but my young mistress?
+
+“What, Thomas!” she exclaimed, “cannot you catch Neddy?”
+
+“Catch him!” repeated Thomas, standing still and wiping the
+perspiration off his face; “you might as well try to catch the
+will-o’-the-wisp. He wants a good flogging, that he does, to bring him
+to order.”
+
+“Oh, do not flog him!” said my mistress, in a tone of alarm. “You will
+spoil his temper if you do, Thomas.”
+
+“Spare the rod and spoil the child,” answered Thomas, in his dry,
+peculiar way.
+
+“Ah, we know better than that now, Thomas,” replied my mistress, with a
+smile.
+
+“Just like all you young ones. You always think you know better than
+your elders,” said Thomas, rather gruffly. “A taste of the whip is a
+very good thing sometimes; and, to my thinking, it is a pity some folks
+do not get it a little oftener.”
+
+“The whip is a good executioner, Thomas, but it is a very bad
+schoolmaster. It is much easier to whip a child into a bad humour than
+a good one. Of that I am sure, and I think animals are much the same.”
+
+“Sure, Miss Annie, you do not mean to tell me that you think it
+right that that little beast there should tire me to bits and get no
+punishment? He knows fast enough that he ought to come, only he won’t;
+he is sly enough for that.”
+
+I felt quite flattered by the compliment, and inwardly rejoiced that I
+had managed to outwit Old Thomas so skilfully.
+
+“But you forget, Thomas, he cannot tell how much he is tiring you; very
+likely he is only frightened. If you will promise me not to whip him, I
+will promise to catch him for you.”
+
+“You catch him?” said Thomas.
+
+“Yes, I am sure I could. Will you promise?”
+
+“A bargain is a bargain, Miss Annie. If you can catch him, he is safe
+from me.”
+
+Without another word, Annie came toward me.
+
+“Here, Neddy, good Neddy, come here; come to me, Neddy.”
+
+Should I give myself up? I eyed Thomas, and I thought: “No, no; soft
+words are not enough for me. I will be off while there is time.”
+
+But then I looked at my mistress, and I remembered how kind she had
+always been to me, and how grieved I had felt when I had pained her,
+and how I had promised myself I would never do so again; and so I
+thought to myself, “Here is the time now to show you are sorry. Give
+yourself up, Neddy, without more ado;” and I came a few steps on to
+meet my mistress; but then my heart misgave me, and I stood snorting
+and uncertain.
+
+“What is it, Neddy? What are you afraid of?” said my mistress, kindly.
+“No one will hurt you. Come, then.”
+
+“She would not surely promise that,” thought I, “if she could not
+perform it. She has never deceived me yet in all these years. I can
+trust her;” and so, summoning up my courage, I walked right up to
+Annie, and stood rubbing my head against her hand. Nothing could exceed
+Annie’s delight at this proof of my confidence. She caressed and
+fondled me, calling me by every kind name she could think of, until
+at last even Old Thomas seemed somewhat appeased; for he said, in his
+pleasant old voice:
+
+“To be sure, miss, you have a wonderful way of your own. The poor beast
+knows who is his best friend, sure enough. He need not be afraid of me
+now, though; my word is my word, and you have saved him from a flogging
+for this once.”
+
+“Suppose you give me the bridle, Thomas; I will put it over his neck,
+and then you can put the bit in his mouth;” and in another moment I
+felt some tight thing passing over my forehead, and a hard substance
+pressing against my teeth, which made me open my mouth, and then, try
+as I would, I could not get rid of the thing. This was too much for
+endurance. I was for springing back instantly, indignant at what I
+thought was a trick to deprive me of my liberty; but it was too late; I
+was caught in a trap, and a firm hand held me tightly.
+
+“Gently, Neddy, gently,” said my mistress; “you will only hurt yourself
+by pulling;” and she patted me in such a caressing way that, angry as I
+was, I could not help listening. “Ah, Neddy! we must all take the bits
+in our mouths. You do not know, Neddy, what I mean; I only wish you
+did. But you will soon learn for yourself that it is much better to
+obey the rein than to pull away from it.”
+
+And going back a few steps, and then coaxing me to follow her, I found
+for myself the truth of what she said. It was not pleasant to have that
+great iron thing in my mouth, of course not; but still, as long as I
+did not pull against it, it did not actually hurt me; and so, sulky as
+I was, I could not but acknowledge that the wisest course that remained
+for me was to obey, and I did my best to understand what Thomas said to
+me, and to do what I was bid; as usual, my efforts to do right brought
+their own reward. Thomas was very fairly patient with any little
+blunders that I made; and as to my mistress, her praise of my conduct
+knew no bounds; and when my first day’s lesson was over, and I stood
+by her side, munching carrots and sugar, and feeling her soft hand
+constantly patting my forehead, I thought, why, if this is learning,
+it is not so very unpleasant, after all; and I promised myself I would
+soon make such progress as would astonish my kind teacher.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+NEDDY RUNS AWAY
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+I RUN AWAY—AM FOUND AND TAKEN HOME AGAIN.
+
+
+But my unruly spirit was by no means tamed. After much thinking over
+what had happened to me, and much wondering as to what might happen, I
+made up my mind to run away.
+
+So around and around the fence I wandered, looking for a chance to get
+through, and at last I came to a low stile. I was overjoyed at the
+sight, and, making a long run for freedom, took a clear leap over it.
+
+“No more bridles and no more bits for me!” thought I, as soon as I
+found myself on the other side.
+
+I looked around me, this way and that, wondering in which direction I
+should go. It did not take me long to decide. Not far off, as it seemed
+to my inexperienced eyes, was a large and beautiful forest. So I ran
+and ran until I was far out of sight and hearing of my home. But the
+forest was farther off than I expected, and I was thoroughly tired out
+when I reached it. However, it was as large and as beautiful as I had
+imagined it to be, and I was soon wandering in its quiet depths, where
+I found plenty of good juicy grass to eat, and plenty of bright, cool,
+sparkling water to drink.
+
+After a good night’s rest, I awoke feeling ready for any adventure. “I
+shall never be found now,” thought I; “no one will ever come to torment
+me in this quiet refuge, and this shall be my starting-point from which
+to explore the world.”
+
+My peace of mind was not to last long, however, for just then I heard
+the deep baying of a big hound, then of another, and presently a whole
+pack of them were coming toward me in full cry.
+
+Frightened almost to death, and feeling sure the dogs were after
+me,—such is the effect of a guilty conscience,—I fled as fast as I
+could to a little brook which I knew was not far off, for I had
+learned that if I walked in the water the dogs could not follow my
+scent.
+
+Soon I heard a voice saying: “Find him, dogs! Fetch him, dogs! Bring
+him back, dogs!”
+
+But, so long as I remained in the water, I was safe from the dogs,
+and I began to run along in the brook. I was safe also from the men,
+because there were high hedges on each side of the brook which hid me
+from their view.
+
+I ran, and I ran, and I ran, for quite a long time without stopping,
+until I was entirely out of breath. Presently the barking of the hounds
+began to grow fainter and fainter. I ceased to hear the voice of the
+man who was urging them on, and at last all was silence.
+
+Out of breath, as I said, and thoroughly tired, I rested now to eat and
+drink. I was stiff and cold by this time through being so long in the
+water, but I did not dare to go far from it, for fear the dogs should
+pick up the scent and be after me again. But presently I regained my
+courage, got on to dry land, and trotted along by the side of the brook
+until at last I was out of the forest, and into a meadow where a large
+number of cattle were feeding. There I lay down in the sun in a corner,
+all by myself, and rested for a long while in ease and comfort.
+
+Just as the evening shadows began to fall, two men came into the
+meadow, and one of them said to the other: “We had better take the
+cattle in to-night. They say that a wolf has escaped from the circus
+and is running wild in the wood.”
+
+“Nonsense!” said the other. “Who told you that fairy tale?”
+
+“Well, I heard that the young donkey belonging to Old Thomas has been
+taken away and eaten by a wolf in the forest.”
+
+“Bah! don’t you believe it! I expect that the little fool has run away.”
+
+“They say the wolf is out, anyway, and we had better call the cattle
+home.”
+
+“Just as you say,” said the other; “it’s all the same to me.”
+
+I lay still in my corner. Fortunately the grass was long enough to hide
+me, and as the cattle were not on my side of the field, the men drove
+them out of it to the farm where their masters lived, without seeing me.
+
+Now I knew there was no wolf in the forest, because the donkey of whom
+they spoke was myself, and I had not seen a sign of a wolf anywhere.
+So I settled down to sleep as soon as the darkness came, and in the
+morning the cattle came back to the meadow with the two men who drove
+them home the night before, accompanied by two large dogs.
+
+They belonged to the same pack of hounds from which I had had so narrow
+an escape the day before, and as soon as they caught sight or scent of
+me, they ran madly barking in my direction. Now I was in real trouble.
+What should I do? How could I possibly escape them this time?
+
+Away to the edge of the meadow I flew like lightning; over the hedge I
+jumped like a mad donkey, and once more I found my friendly brook.
+
+Soon I heard the voices of the men I had seen yesterday. They looked
+after me as I was trotting in the brook, and one of them said:
+
+“Call off the dogs; that is not our donkey.”
+
+“Whose is it, then, I wonder,” said the other.
+
+“That must be the donkey the wolf did not eat,” was the reply.
+
+“Well, as we have found our own, we need not trouble about this one.”
+
+And so the dogs were called off. After all, you see, it was not me the
+dogs were after, but another donkey who had run away. How true it is,
+as I have heard it said, that,—
+
+    “A guilty conscience doth make cowards of us all.”
+
+Now I went on my way unafraid, and walked and grazed, and walked and
+grazed until I came to another forest. How many miles I had gone I
+could not tell, but I was free,—free from bit and bridle and dogs and
+men, and that was all I cared for just then.
+
+I did not think of the kind, good friends I had left behind. I did
+not think of their anxiety as to what had become of me. I thought of
+nothing but that I was free.
+
+But it began to grow cold as night came on, and I began to wonder where
+I should find shelter till the morning. I trotted on right through the
+wood, until I came out on the other side, and saw a village ahead of me.
+
+Just outside of the village was a pretty little cottage in a garden all
+by itself. It was very clean, and very neat and tidy. At the door sat
+an old woman busy with her needle. What put it into my head to do it I
+do not know, but I trotted up to her and put my head on her shoulder.
+
+She jumped up quickly with a little scream. But I did not stir, and she
+began to pat my neck, and stroke my ears, until I was sure I had found
+a friend.
+
+“I’m sure you’re a well-bred donkey,” she said, presently. “I wonder
+where you came from, and to whom you belong. If I can’t find your
+owner, I shall keep you myself, for I’m sure I can make you useful. But
+I think you must have a master somewhere.”
+
+I shuddered at the words “make you useful,” for I had an idea that that
+must mean bit and bridle again. But when I heard the word “master,”
+I could not help regretting the home I had left,—Old Thomas and Miss
+Annie, and my mother and all her lessons, which I had so badly learned.
+
+However, I was determined to keep the liberty I had earned, and when a
+bright-looking little boy of about six or seven years of age came out
+of the door to ask his grandmother to whom she was talking, I at once
+made up my mind that we could be friends.
+
+“Why, granny, where did that donkey come from? May I stroke him?” said
+he.
+
+“Of course, my boy, but he is a stranger to me,—a lost donkey, I
+think,—so take care he does not bite you.”
+
+[Illustration: She jumped up quickly with a little scream.]
+
+Georgie, for that was his name, tiptoed to reach me. I did not stir, so
+as not to frighten him, but I liked the little lad so well that I could
+not help turning my head and licking his hand.
+
+“Oh, what a dear donkey!” said Georgie. “Look, granny, he is licking my
+hand.”
+
+“I wonder how he came here all by himself,” said the old lady. “Run
+into the village, Georgie, and inquire if any one has lost a donkey. I
+am sure any one to whom he belongs must be very anxious about him.”
+
+Off went Georgie, and off I went after him. When he saw me coming, he
+said: “Oh, dear, I must not lose him,” and he set off at a run back to
+the house. Soon he came with a piece of cord, which he put around my
+neck, and we started again for the village.
+
+First Georgie went to the village inn. But the innkeeper had not heard
+of a lost donkey. Then he went from place to place where he thought a
+donkey might have been living, but nobody was missing a donkey in that
+village.
+
+At last, however, the village policeman came along.
+
+“Hello, Georgie; where did you get that donkey?” cried he.
+
+“He came up to our door this afternoon, and I am trying to find his
+owner,” said the brave little fellow.
+
+“This must be the donkey from the Hall,” said the policeman. “I will
+put him in the pound until I can send for Old Thomas.”
+
+“Oh, don’t lock him up,” said Georgie. “Let me keep him and feed him
+for one night, until his master comes and fetches him.”
+
+The policeman was a kind-hearted man. He knew the donkey was safe with
+Georgie and his grandmother. He knew, too, that she had a warm and safe
+stable for the donkey, and so Georgie and I trotted back to his home,
+where I had a comfortable night.
+
+And now I began to think seriously of what had been happening in the
+home I had left, since I had been so foolish as to run away. I did not
+learn until afterward how much distress I had caused everybody there,
+or how much trouble I had given to those who had my best welfare at
+heart. When I did so, I felt remorse and sorrow enough, I assure you.
+
+Well, to make a long story short, the next morning Old Thomas came and
+fetched me away. He did not say much, and I was not sure if he were
+glad or sorry to have me back again. But there was no mistaking the
+delighted welcome which my young mistress gave me, and I made anew
+the vows of good behaviour of which I told you at the end of the last
+chapter.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+NEDDY’S TRICK, AND WHAT CAME OF IT
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+  I LEARN TO DRAW MY MISTRESS’S CARRIAGE—I SEE THE WORLD, AND LISTEN TO
+  EVIL COUNSEL—A TRICK, AND WHAT CAME OF IT—AFTER ALL, HONESTY IS THE
+  BEST POLICY.
+
+
+It would be tedious to trace the progress of my education. Suffice it
+to say that at last I was pronounced to be so well broken in that it
+was thought safe to trust me to draw my young mistress in a pretty
+little carriage that had been made expressly for me. At first I did not
+like my new occupation at all. It was very provoking to be led out of
+my pleasant field, when perhaps I had not half finished my morning’s
+meal, or was deep in conversation with some of my neighbours in the
+adjoining meadow, or was luxuriously rolling on the soft grass. To be
+taken away from these enjoyments to drag a carriage over hot, stony
+roads, and to stand stock-still doing nothing for the hour together,
+while my mistress was paying her visits,—all this seemed to me very
+dull and tedious; but gradually I became more reconciled to my lot.
+
+If it had its disadvantages, it had its pleasures likewise. I saw
+something of the world; I had the opportunity of conversing with many
+of my own species, and of seeing how much happier my life was than that
+of many others; and though, I confess, to my shame, I was apt to forget
+this, and to give way to my temper, and show obstinacy when things did
+not go quite as I liked, grumbling and thinking myself a very ill-used
+being, I believe that, on the whole, I learned wisdom by experience,
+and gave my dear mistress as little trouble as could be expected.
+
+Occasionally, indeed, I sorely tried her patience. One instance I well
+remember. It had chanced that I had been required to take my mistress
+to a house which I had a particular objection to visiting. It was not
+only that the road that led to it was hilly and stony, but it was a
+place where I never received the slightest civility. No hay or water
+was ever offered me, no shed where I might stand at my ease out of
+the hot, broiling sunshine; but I was hitched up tight to a post, and
+expected to stand there for an hour at a time, while a yelping cur
+would bark at my heels, and the village children, peeping at me from
+over the fence, would make fun of my helpless condition. All this
+was very hurtful to my vanity; and, having in vain tried to show my
+mistress, by my obstinate manner, that I did not approve of being taken
+to Barstead, I determined one day, when, as usual, I was hitched up to
+the post, to relieve myself from the hated bondage, hoping, by constant
+pulling, to be able to break the reins and run away home, leaving my
+mistress to follow as best she might.
+
+But it was in vain for me to pull and tug; the reins were stronger than
+I. I was only fretting myself into a fever, and making myself more
+and more uncomfortable. Thoroughly out of humour, I was venting my
+anger in a series of impatient snorts, when suddenly I heard a short,
+sneering neigh close to my side; and, looking up, I saw a little rough
+pony standing quite close to me, evidently enjoying my distress.
+
+“Why, my good friend,” said he, “what is the matter? You seem very
+unhappy. Can I be of any assistance?”
+
+The patronizing tone in which he spoke completely disconcerted me,
+for I do not know anything more provoking than to expose your own
+helplessness and incapacity to any one superior to yourself in
+intellect and station; so, putting on a dogged air of composure, I
+declined his kind offer of assistance, telling him I was only trying to
+shift my bridle a bit, and that I had done it now for myself.
+
+The mocking neigh which was his only answer showed me in a moment that
+my falsehood was discovered, and that I had only lowered myself still
+further in the opinion of my new acquaintance.
+
+“My good fellow,” he said, “you do not suppose I have worn a bridle
+all these years to learn that you are not going the right way to ease
+the bit. Better tell me the truth. I am older than you, and, if I am
+not much mistaken, I have seen a good deal more of life than you have.
+Come, what is the matter? Out with it, and I will help you if I can.”
+
+There was something in his cheery, good-natured manner that conquered
+my pride, and, in spite of myself, I soon found that I was talking to
+him as if he had been an old friend, and telling him my grievances as
+openly as if he had been my brother.
+
+“And now,” said I in conclusion, “what would you advise me to do?”
+
+“To do?” he said; “why, the next time your mistress brings you to
+Barstead, lame yourself.”
+
+“Lame myself?” exclaimed I; “why, the remedy would be worse than the
+disease.”
+
+“You little innocent!” said my friend, with his sneering laugh; “you
+made no scruple in telling a lie just now; why should you find it more
+difficult to act one?”
+
+Involuntarily my ears wagged with horror as I caught a glimpse of
+his meaning. I had been tempted into a hasty falsehood in support of
+my dignity. That was bad enough; but deliberately to enact a lie to
+deceive my kind mistress appeared to me the height of ingratitude
+and baseness. Alas! I did not remember how easily one fault leads to
+another.
+
+“You asked my advice, and I have given it to you,” said the pony. “If
+you are afraid to follow it out, why, you must submit to be tied to a
+post for the remainder of your life, and that is the proper place for
+cowards. It is only those who have the pluck to dare and to do who make
+their way in this world.”
+
+“I am not afraid,” said I, rather faintly. “It is not that.”
+
+“Well, then, what is it?”
+
+Coward that I was! I did not dare to tell him that I feared to do
+wrong, and vex my kind mistress; so I only grumbled out something about
+the difficulty of deceiving her.
+
+“That is, of course, a point you must decide for yourself,” replied the
+pony; “only you must be a great bungler if you cannot manage to deceive
+a woman. In our relations with mankind, either they or we must be the
+masters, and the strongest will generally carries the day. If force
+will not do, try craft; but if you are beaten at both points, why,
+then, good-bye to your independence for all time, and make up your mind
+at once to sink into a mere despised beast of burden for the rest of
+your life.”
+
+What further valuable advice my new acquaintance might have given me,
+it is impossible for me to say; for at this moment, my mistress coming
+out of the house, the servant came and untied my reins, and I was led
+away from my place of captivity, having only time to cast a farewell
+glance at my friend, and to catch the wicked twinkle of the bright eyes
+which glanced from under his shaggy eyebrows.
+
+All the way home I thought over his words; indeed, so lost was I at
+times in the reflection that I was unpleasantly aroused by the sharp
+cut of the whip across my shoulders, and the sound of my mistress’s
+voice reproving me very severely.
+
+“Ah, Neddy!” she said, as, having at length reached home, she got out
+of the carriage and came and stood by my side, without giving me so
+much as one pat; “you have gone very badly indeed to-day, and you will
+not have a single carrot, nor a bit of bread, nor a taste of sugar,—no,
+not one bit. Go away, Neddy,—naughty Neddy!”
+
+So that was my first experience of the fruits of evil counsel. But,
+alas! my heart was hardened by the words of the tempter; and instead
+of repenting of my fault, my mistress’s displeasure only made me
+more obstinate, and more inclined to try and have my own way, and to
+persuade myself that it was she who was unkind and unjust, and that
+if she required me to do that which was disagreeable to me, why, of
+course, I, on my part, was quite justified in avoiding it if possible.
+
+The more I brooded over my imaginary wrongs, the more ill-used I
+considered myself to be, and the more was I inclined to follow the
+advice of my tempter. As is always the case, by constantly dwelling
+on the fault which I longed to commit, it gradually appeared to me to
+become less and less sinful. I found such endless excuses to justify my
+conduct to my own mind that at length I ceased to feel any compunction
+whatever on the subject, and only awaited a favourable opportunity for
+putting my intended deception into practice.
+
+It was not long in offering itself. One beautiful bright morning, about
+ten days after my last visit to Barstead, I was, as usual, drawing my
+mistress’s carriage, when she turned me up the lane which led, I knew,
+to the hateful place. “Ah! ah!” thought I, “I know where you are going
+to now, and we’ll see who carries out their purpose, you or I.” So I
+cunningly watched my opportunity, and began to tread a little—just a
+very little—lame, stumbling occasionally as I trotted along.
+
+“What can be the matter with Neddy?” I heard my mistress say to her
+companion. “Do you not think, Emily, he goes lame?”
+
+“Ah!” thought I; “you see it, do you?” and I went lamer than before.
+
+“Yes, certainly,” replied Emily; “he is quite lame.”
+
+“Perhaps he has a stone in his shoe,” said my mistress. “Hold the
+reins, Emily, for a moment, if you please. I will get out and look.”
+
+“Dear me!” thought I; “now she will discover the cheat;” and I trembled
+all over.
+
+“Poor Neddy! poor Neddy!” said my mistress, patting me. “He trembles
+so, he must be hurt.”
+
+Would you believe it? Her kindness, instead of softening my heart, and
+making me see my fault, only hardened me the more. I began to despise
+her for being such an easy dupe. This feeling gave me the courage to
+stand quite still, whilst my mistress lifted up first one foot and then
+another.
+
+“There is no stone in any one of his feet,” exclaimed my mistress, in a
+perplexed tone, as she stood by my side, “and there doesn’t seem to be
+a sign of any stone having hurt him anywhere.”
+
+“Perhaps it was only the ground over which we have just come that made
+him go lame,” suggested Emily. “I noticed it was very stony.”
+
+“Well, it may be that,” replied my mistress; “we will go on, and try a
+little way farther.”
+
+And, getting into the carriage, she touched me very lightly with the
+whip, saying:
+
+“Now, Neddy dear, go on.”
+
+And very, very slowly I went, limping more, and more, and more at every
+step I took.
+
+“Oh, Emily, I cannot bear this,” I heard my kind mistress say, in a
+tone of the sincerest pity. “It makes me quite miserable to see the
+pain the poor creature is in. We must give up our drive for to-day, and
+go home;” and, checking me as she spoke, she turned me around toward
+home.
+
+Oh, how my heart beat with joy to think of my successful cheat! “Ah!
+ah!” thought I; “it is all very well for you to hold the reins, but I
+can teach you the way to go. I am master now for all time coming; and I
+flatter myself you will never take Neddy again where he does not wish
+to go.”
+
+But my joy was destined to be of short duration. In my conceited
+delight at having so successfully duped my mistress, I quite forgot
+that, to make my trick successful, it was necessary that the deception
+should be carried on to the end; and no sooner was I aware that I was
+going home than I trotted off as brisk as could be.
+
+A hearty laugh from my mistress and her friend awoke me from my dream
+of security. I started as I heard the words, “Would you have believed
+that he could have feigned so skilfully?” and in another moment I felt
+myself turned back on the road to Barstead, whilst the most hearty
+whipping I had ever received from my mistress fell on my devoted
+shoulders.
+
+It was in vain for me to go lame now. I limped till I almost fell to
+the ground; my mistress only flogged the harder, until, at length, in
+despair, I gave up the struggle; and, although in a thoroughly sulky
+and obstinate humour, I consented to draw the carriage up to Barstead.
+
+Ah! who may tell what bitter thoughts were mine, as I stood waiting for
+my mistress, tied, as usual, to that horrid post! It was not only the
+whipping I had received,—that was bad enough, and my shoulders ached
+again with the cuts,—but to have been discovered in my cheat, this was
+what galled me to the quick, and for the moment I forgot the fault in
+the shame of the discovery. In my rage I looked eagerly around, hoping
+I might see my tempter, and ease my own misery by venting my ill-humour
+on him who had given me the evil counsel. I had better have looked
+nearer home, and seen who was the real author of all my wretchedness.
+
+But my fault was destined to meet with a still sharper punishment. Not
+very long after this excursion to Barstead, my mistress was driving me
+over a road which had just been repaired, and one of the little flints
+happened to fix itself just under my shoe, and on the softest point of
+my hoof. Oh, the pain I felt! I shuddered all over; I could hardly put
+my foot to the ground, and limped along in the greatest agony.
+
+“No, no,” said my mistress, whipping me sharply; “no more of this
+nonsense! Come, make haste and go on.”
+
+Alas and alas for the lie which I had acted! How well I remembered
+how kindly my mistress had pitied me before! how soothingly she had
+caressed me! and how I had laughed at her for her pains! Ah! now,
+instead of whipping me on, increasing my wretchedness every moment, she
+would, but for my own fault, have seen to me as before, and in a moment
+my tormentor would have been removed. The knowledge that I had brought
+it all upon myself did not tend to mitigate the pain; and, though I
+tried to limp on as fast as possible, I nearly fainted with the agony I
+was enduring.
+
+At length my evident discomfort moved the compassion of my kind-hearted
+mistress.
+
+“I do really think Neddy has got a stone in his foot to-day,” she said;
+“at any rate, I will look before I go on any farther.”
+
+Who may tell how grateful I was for a kindness so much greater than I
+deserved? and, as she got out of the chaise, I held up my foot that she
+might know at once where the stone was, and see that this time at least
+I was not deceiving her.
+
+“Poor Neddy! poor fellow!” exclaimed my mistress, as she carefully
+drew out the stone; “I do not wonder you limped; it must have hurt you
+dreadfully. But see, Neddy, what it is to deceive; no one believes you
+when you really are hurt. Cunning people outwit themselves. I wish I
+could make you understand me. I am very sorry for you poor, poor Neddy!”
+
+Her kindness softened my heart. Not all the pain and the punishment
+could have made me repent so deeply as did my mistress’s kind words.
+Oh, how I wished I could make her know all that was passing in my mind!
+and I rubbed my head against her, and looked up in her face, hoping she
+would see how truly I thanked her. For the moment my feelings toward
+my mistress had made me forget my own sufferings; but no sooner did
+I put my foot to the ground than I was recalled to a recollection of
+my late agony. It was in vain to attempt to trot. The slowest hobble
+gave me such pain that I was obliged to stand quite still to recover
+my breath. My dear mistress seemed sincerely sorry. She turned toward
+home immediately, driving me back as slowly and gently as possible. On
+my arrival at home, warm fomentations were instantly applied; but there
+was so much inflammation that it was days before I could hobble about
+even in my field and on the soft green grass, and not for weeks did I
+entirely get over the effects of the accident.
+
+During this illness of mine, I had plenty of time for reflection, and
+for seeing not only how foolish, but how wrong, my conduct had been,
+and what ill results it had brought on me.
+
+“Ah, Neddy!” said my mistress one day, when, as usual, she had been
+tenderly inquiring after my wounded foot, “I hope this will be a
+lesson to you for life.”
+
+“How can you be so absurd, Annie, as to talk in this way to a donkey?”
+said my mistress’s companion.
+
+“Neddy understands me: I am sure he does,” was the reply. “Look how
+sensibly he looks up in my face. He can do almost everything but speak.”
+
+And though, perhaps, I did not understand everything she said just in
+the sense which you would apply to it, kind reader, I took in quite
+sufficient to make me deeply regret the past, and determine to try and
+amend in the future.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+NEDDY AT THE FAIR
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+AT THE FAIR—A PERFORMING DONKEY.
+
+
+In my time, fairs in England were very common, and they were held in
+most of the important country towns twice a year, in the spring and in
+the fall.
+
+These fairs were unlike anything that boys and girls of to-day have
+seen. They were held in the main street of the town, and the booths, or
+stalls, were erected on each side of the street, partly on the sidewalk
+and partly on the road, leaving only a very narrow space for people to
+walk about, or for horses and carriages to drive.
+
+This would have been inconvenient, as all the people from the country
+roundabout flocked into the town at fair time, and it was then more
+crowded than ever. But, as every one wanted to linger and loiter and
+look at the things displayed for sale in the stalls, and to listen
+to the descriptions of the wonders to be seen inside the shows,
+menageries, museums, and travelling theatres, this did not matter very
+much.
+
+You will hear more about fairs as you read farther on in my story, but
+this seems to me to be a good place to tell you something about them as
+they were when I was a young and observant donkey.
+
+One of the most curious things about these fairs was that they were
+very often “hiring fairs,” that is, men and women used to go and stand
+in rows and wait for the squires or the farmers from roundabout to
+come and hire them as farm-hands or labourers, or household help or
+dairymaids, or what not. There they would be,—the men all in a row in
+their smock-frocks, with their whips in their hands, on one side of the
+street, and the women, neatly dressed in linsey-woolsey gowns (that was
+the name of the stuff) on the other.
+
+I think I can hear them now: “Where did you work last year?” one of
+them would bawl out. And the rest would shout all at once:
+
+“Down in Yorkshire,” or Lancashire, or Berkshire, as the case might be.
+
+The first speaker would then say: “How much did you get a year?”
+
+Then all the rest would reply in chorus:
+
+    “Five pound, and a new whip,
+     Fat pork a foot thick,
+     And a new knife to cut it with.
+     Work! Work! Work!”
+
+And the things there were to see at these fairs! Everything that any
+one could want, from candy for the babies up to coats and boots for
+the men, and dresses and gewgaws for the women. Fathers and mothers
+came with their children. Young men and women with their sweethearts,
+and all bought what were called “fairings” for each other. Everything
+bought at the fair was called a “fairing.”
+
+Useful things also were sold,—ploughs and harrows, rakes, spades, and
+hoes, horses, wagons and wheelbarrows,—in fact, everything the farmer
+and the housekeeper might want.
+
+But the greatest thing of all was “the fun of the fair,”—the shows and
+the museums, the freak exhibitions, and such like. There were bearded
+ladies, fat women, dwarfs, and giants. Lambs with two heads, and calves
+with six legs, and performing animals without number.
+
+And this leads me to a story about a performing donkey, which I heard
+from a four-legged friend of mine on one occasion when I was waiting in
+the town on a market-day.
+
+My friend’s name was Neddy, the same as my own, and one day he went to
+a fair where every one was talking about a wonderful performing donkey
+who was exhibiting his tricks in a large tent. “My master,” said he,
+“went in the tent, leaving me by the door, so that I could see what was
+going on inside. In a few minutes the showman appeared leading in the
+donkey that was supposed to be so clever. He was a poor, dismal-looking
+creature, who looked as if he wanted a square meal. ‘Ladies and
+gentlemen,’ began the showman, ‘I have the honour to introduce to
+you Mr. Muffles, the wonderful performing ass. This ass, ladies and
+gentlemen, is not such an ass as he looks. He knows a great deal,—a
+great deal more than some of you. He is an ass without equal. Come,
+Muffles, show the company what you can do. Make your bow, and let these
+ladies and gentlemen see that you have learned manners.’ The donkey
+went forward two or three steps and bent his head in most melancholy
+fashion. I was indignant with the showman. I thought to myself, ‘It’s
+quite easy to see that this poor Muffles has been taught his tricks by
+means of a rope’s end,’ and I made up my mind to be revenged on that
+man before the performance was over.
+
+“‘Now, Muffles, take this nosegay, and give it to the prettiest lady
+here.’
+
+“Muffles took the bunch of flowers in his teeth, walked sadly all
+around the ring, and at last went and dropped it into the lap of an
+ugly, fat woman. She was quite close to me, and I could see that she
+had a piece of sugar hidden in her hand. ‘What a fraud,’ I thought.
+‘Of course she is the showman’s wife.’ I was so disgusted with what
+I thought was the donkey’s bad taste that, before any one could stop
+me, I leaped clear into the ring, seized the bouquet in my teeth, and,
+trotting around, I at last laid it at the feet of a little girl I knew,
+who was really pretty.
+
+“The crowd clapped and cheered, and wondered who I was. ‘_So_
+intelligent!’ they said to each other. Muffles’s master, however,
+did not seem so pleased. As for Muffles himself, he took no notice
+whatever. I began to think he must really be rather a stupid animal,
+and that, you know, isn’t common with us donkeys.
+
+“When the audience was quiet again, the showman said:
+
+“‘Now, Muffles, you have shown us the prettiest lady here. Now go and
+point out the silliest person present,’ and, so saying, he gave him a
+big dunce-cap made of coloured paper and adorned with rosettes.
+
+“Muffles took it in his teeth, and, going straight to a heavy-looking
+fat boy, with a face exactly like that of a pig, put it on his head.
+The fat boy was so like the fat woman that it was quite easy to see he
+must be the showman’s son, and of course in the trick.
+
+“‘Good!’ said I to myself, ‘my time has come.’ Before they could think
+of stopping me, I had taken the cap off the boy’s head, and was chasing
+the showman himself around and around the ring. The crowd roared with
+laughter and clapped and clapped until they were tired. All at once the
+showman tripped and went down on one knee. I profited by this to put
+the cap firmly on his head, and to ram it down till it fairly covered
+his chin.
+
+“The showman shouted, and danced about, trying to tear off the cap,
+and I stood on my hind legs and capered about just as he did until the
+crowd nearly died from laughing. ‘Well done, donkey! Bravo, donkey!
+It’s you that’s the real performing donkey!’ they shouted.
+
+“There was no doing anything after this. Hundreds of people crowded
+into the ring, and were so anxious to caress me that I was afraid they
+would tear me to pieces. The people from our own village who knew me
+were more than proud of me, and before very long all the people in the
+place were telling wonderful tales of my intelligence and my adventures.
+
+“They said I had once been at a fire, and worked a fire-engine all
+by myself; that I had gone up a ladder to the third floor, opened my
+mistress’s door, awakened her, picked her up, and jumped off the roof
+with her in safety to the ground. They said that at another time I had,
+all alone, slain fifty robbers, strangling them with my teeth when they
+were asleep, and that not one had time to awake and alarm the others;
+that I had then gone into the caves, where the robbers lived, and had
+set free a hundred and fifty prisoners whom the robbers had captured.
+At another time they said I had beaten in a race all the swiftest
+horses in the country, and had run seventy-five miles in five hours
+without stopping!
+
+“The crowd grew thicker and thicker to hear these wonderful tales,
+until the crush was so great that some of the people could hardly
+breathe, and the police had to come to the rescue. It was with the
+greatest difficulty that, even with the help of the policemen, I was
+able to get away, and I was obliged to pretend to bite and kick in
+order to clear a path; but of course I did not hurt anybody.
+
+“At last I got free from the crowd and into the road.... But after it
+all was over, I began to think of the unfortunate showman, and I felt
+very, very sorry for the unkind trick I had played him.”[1]
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[1] This story is from a French source. [Ed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+NEDDY CHANGES MASTERS
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+  A REAL GRIEVANCE—RICHARD AND I DECLARE WAR AGAINST EACH OTHER—A
+  STRUGGLE—I GAIN A VICTORY, AND AM CONQUERED IN MY TURN—I CHANGE
+  MASTERS, AND ENTER A NEW PHASE OF EXISTENCE.
+
+
+There is no lot in life so perfectly happy in which one cannot find
+some cause of complaint; indeed it is too often the case that the fewer
+grievances people have, the more you hear them grumble. Now, I have no
+doubt I had a great many imaginary, but I had one real, unmistakable
+source of unhappiness. One of the servants at the house was a boy whom
+my master had originally taken out of charity. He was a quick, clever
+lad, but of a spiteful disposition, and this he was clever enough to
+keep out of his master’s sight. He delighted in teasing and cruelty,
+and nothing seemed to make him happier than to be able to make others
+miserable. Against myself he had an especial spite, and endless were
+the tricks with which he contrived to annoy me. Sometimes, just when I
+was going to be harnessed to the carriage, he would place a piece of
+holly, or something equally prickly, just under my tail, and when, of
+course, I tried to kick the inconvenience away, he would declare it was
+all vice on my part; so I got the whipping he so richly deserved. Then,
+again, sometimes when I came home from a journey, ready to drop with
+thirst, the ill-natured little fellow would hold the pail to my lips as
+handy as possible, and then at the very moment when, eager to drink, I
+was putting down my mouth for a draught, he would suddenly tilt up the
+pail, making the contents fly into my eyes and ears, or else spilling
+the water on the stones around.
+
+These, and a hundred similar injuries needless to detail, and better to
+forget, made me hate the very sight of Richard; and so little pains did
+I take to conceal my feelings that my mistress soon discovered there
+was something wrong between us.
+
+“I cannot think what it is, papa,” I one day overheard her say, “that
+makes Neddy so dislike Richard. I am quite sure he must ill treat him.”
+
+What would not I have given at that moment to have had the power of
+telling my grievances to my kind mistress? But that could not be. I
+could only sigh, wag my ears very slowly, and trust to my mistress’s
+acuteness to find out how matters stood for herself. One word then, and
+what months of misery I might have been spared!
+
+If Richard could play off his spiteful tricks almost under the eyes,
+so to speak, of my mistress, one may imagine the life he led me when
+the family were away from home. Then I was almost entirely at his
+mercy, and he took care to improve his opportunities to the utmost.
+As a general rule, when my mistress was away, I was not allowed to
+do any work whatever; but it occasionally happened that a letter had
+to be sent in a hurry to the mail, or some commission executed in
+the neighbouring town, and then, instead of walking, Richard would be
+allowed to ride me. Ah, those rides! how I dreaded them! What kicks!
+what blows! what language! In those days I had never heard such words
+before, and could hardly understand their meaning. Is it astonishing
+that I rebelled against such treatment, and did my very utmost to get
+rid of my tormentor?
+
+I must confess, however, that, as a general rule, my efforts were not
+crowned with the success they deserved. On one occasion, however, I was
+the victor; but my victory cost me dear.
+
+Richard had ridden me into the town for something that was wanted at
+the house, and all the way along it had been a struggle between us;
+I obstinately determined not to go, he as obstinately bent on making
+me. At length, by dint of kicks and blows, the misery of which became
+too great to be endured, he succeeded in goading me as far as the
+market-place of the town.
+
+It happened to be market-day, and the square was quite full of country
+people who had come in to buy and sell. Whether it was the desire of
+showing off, or whether Richard’s temper had become more than usually
+irritated by my determined opposition to his will, I do not know;
+but here, in the presence of all these people, he began to beat me
+violently about the head, at the same time urging me into a gallop.
+Half-blinded and stupefied by the blows, my only reply was to stand
+perfectly still. Richard beat me more savagely than before. Cries of
+“Shame! shame!” resounded from all sides.
+
+“I will tell your master,” said one. “You will lose your place,” said
+another; while a third cried out, “I wish the beast would kick him off.
+It would serve him right to have a roll in the mud, that it would.”
+
+I only needed this one word of encouragement to put the plan which I
+had formed into execution. Planting my two front feet firmly on the
+ground, I kicked, and kicked, and kicked with such a thorough, hearty
+good-will that at length my adversary, losing his balance, flew over
+my head, and rolled around and around upon the mud beneath me. Shouts
+of laughter resounded from all sides. Not waiting to see what would
+become of Richard, I instantly turned toward home, and galloped up the
+street as fast as my legs would carry me, the people not attempting to
+stop me, but rather urging me on to greater speed by cries of “Bravo!
+Well done, Neddy! Go on, Neddy!”
+
+[Illustration: At length my adversary, losing his balance, flew over my
+head.]
+
+Excited by these shouts, and by the triumph I had just achieved, I
+redoubled my speed, my heart beating with joyful pride at my late
+victory. Alas! how little I knew the price I was to pay for it! If I
+had had the sense to go straight home, all would have been well; but
+when one has once tasted of the pleasures of conquest, and listened to
+the flattery of praise, one’s judgment is apt to be less clear; and
+no sooner had I reached such a distance from the town as to render
+me comparatively safe than I slackened my speed, and began, with
+great self-complacency, to think over the events of the morning,
+refreshing myself by constant nibbles at the grass by the wayside. I
+was indulging in this luxurious confidence when I suddenly felt my rein
+seized by a vigorous hand, and, looking up, I found myself confronted
+by a powerful, middle-aged man.
+
+“So you are the runaway donkey, are you?” he said. “I was just on the
+lookout for you;” and I saw that he glanced hastily up and down the
+road, but not another creature was in sight.
+
+“So! all is right,” he said. “Come along, Neddy, come along;” and he
+hastily turned me off the highroad on to a path which led into a wood
+hard by.
+
+It was all done so quickly that I had not a moment to recover my
+self-possession, and I was already far on in the path before I had
+time to consider who the man was, and what he could possibly mean by
+taking me into this road, which I had never seen before. My first
+sensation was one of delight, to think how completely I had outwitted
+Richard; but this was quickly followed by the dread, “What if I had
+been outwitted myself?” and I began to reproach myself bitterly with
+my folly in not having resisted in the first instance, and refused to
+allow myself to be led from the highroad.
+
+“But better late than never,” thought I; and, giving a vigorous pull
+at the rein, I tried to get away from the man, determining to regain
+the road, and never to stop again till I had safely reached home. Alas!
+I now discovered how far easier it is to take a step in the wrong
+direction than to retrace it when made.
+
+The man in an instant seemed to discern my intention; and, holding
+the rein tighter than he had done before, he gave me three or four
+tremendous blows with a stick which he had in his hand, exclaiming at
+the same time:
+
+“So you think to get away from me as you did from that boy, do you? You
+will find yourself mistaken. I will soon make you know who is master
+now;” and he repeated the blows with greater violence than before.
+
+The savage tone in which he spoke, and the pain I felt from the blows
+which I had received, seemed to stun me, and take away all power of
+resistance; and, in spite of myself, I walked on by his side, trembling
+in every limb, and holding my tail tight between my legs, in the vain
+hope that this would protect me from his cruel blows. I have often
+thought since that I acted like a coward, and that, if I had plucked up
+my spirit, I might have regained my liberty. But, after all, I do not
+know. In a struggle between men and beasts, I suppose if a man chooses
+to exert his strength, he can always get the mastery. We do not think
+of this as long as we are in happy homes, and all goes prosperously;
+we forget that we are servants, and that our master has a right to
+expect obedience in return for the food he gives us and the care which
+he bestows upon us. We are apt to grow proud, and to think that our
+service is entirely optional, and that if we do our duty well, it is
+a great merit on our part, and calls for gratitude on the part of our
+master; and then it is not till we feel his strong hand upon us,
+conquering our wills, and doing with us according to his pleasure, that
+we begin to understand that we are only servants of a higher power
+than our own, and that we should have been wiser to have submitted
+patiently, and to have done our duty cheerfully, than to have struggled
+against an authority which, after all, we are powerless to resist. I
+can think these thoughts now that I am quietly at rest in my old age,
+but my feelings were very different on the day of my capture.
+
+My new master, having led me through the wood, jumped upon my back,
+and, by a repetition of the cruel blows I so much dreaded, urged me to
+gallop on across an open common on which we had now entered. Frightened
+as I was, I had sense enough to know that it would be better for me to
+obey; but I did so with a heavy heart, knowing well that every step
+was taking me farther and farther away from the home which I had never
+loved so well as now that I had lost it. Still, I made what speed I
+could; and, having crossed the common, my master turned me up a narrow
+lane, urging me on even faster than before, till at length he turned
+off on to a waste piece of land, the most dreary-looking place I had
+ever seen in my life,—pools of water here and there, and the ground
+with scarcely a blade of grass, and nothing but a few stunted bushes
+scattered about. Here he pulled me up; and, getting off my back, he led
+me on a little distance; then, standing still, he whistled very loudly
+and sharply. In a few minutes the call was answered by a man younger
+and not so powerful-looking as himself.
+
+“Where is the tent, Bill?” was his first question.
+
+“A little way down to the left yonder.”
+
+“Then we must look alive and push on for it, and dress up this donkey
+here before the search is out for him.”
+
+“Why, where did you pick him up, Jem?” asked his companion, as he
+proceeded to examine me. “You have been in rare luck to-day. I never
+saw a more likely beast. He has been in good quarters, too, I should
+say, from the look of his skin.”
+
+“That he has,” returned my master. “He is one of Squire Morton’s
+raising; so you may be sure he is the right sort. I have had my eye on
+him for some time past; but they kept him so close I could not get a
+chance before. However, we have not a moment to lose. He is a pet of
+the family, so there is sure to be a hue and cry. Run on and get the
+shears and some good strong pitch ready.”
+
+My heart sank within me. I did not indeed understand the full meaning
+of the words, but I felt sure from the man’s manner that mischief was
+intended, and again I did my best to escape and make my way home; but
+it would not do. I was led on, in spite of myself, to the tent, and
+then the cruel work began. Snip—snip—snip! I heard, whilst a hard,
+cold, heavy substance ran all over my body; and then came something hot
+and burning, which made me kick and jump with pain. But it was in vain
+to struggle. My tormentors had me in their power, and not till they
+had satisfied themselves did they at length release me from their grasp.
+
+“There, Bill,” said my master, when at length he had finished; “I think
+we have done it pretty well. I do not believe even his own mother would
+know him now. However, we won’t risk it; let us strike tents and be
+off. Here, give me the log, that heaviest one, and we will put that on
+his leg. He will not run far with that, I promise him.”
+
+And in another moment I felt a tight, cutting pressure around my ankle;
+and, giving me a cut, my master told me to be off and eat my dinner,
+for I should soon be wanted for work. Eat my dinner! My only thought
+was to get away home; and, once escaped from his hands, I was for
+galloping off without a moment’s loss of time. Gallop? I could hardly
+walk. No sooner did I attempt to move than I heard a loud clanking
+noise, and felt a drag, as if my leg was broken. Looking back in terror
+and amazement, I perceived that an immense piece of wood was fastened
+to my leg by a great iron chain. I tried to shake it off, but my
+efforts only made the chain cut me more painfully, whilst I bruised my
+legs by knocking them against the log. Broken-hearted and in despair,
+I stood perfectly still, bewildered and not knowing what to do next.
+At length an irresistible desire seized me to see what my tormentors
+had done to me. I recollected how proudly I had often surveyed myself
+in the stream at home, and how I had admired my shiny brown coat and
+the long hairs in my mane. Slowly, very slowly, I dragged myself to
+the edge of one of the pools. The water was very muddy, and did not
+perhaps reflect all my hideousness; but I saw enough to make me start
+back in horror from myself. My mother not know me? why, I did not know
+myself! My beautiful coat all clipped, and rough, and ragged, and
+covered with great patches of black and dirt; and my mane,—that mane
+my dear mistress had so often praised,—oh, what would she have said
+to it now? I drew back from the sight of myself, and groaned inwardly.
+“Ah!” thought I, “and has so short a time been sufficient for so great
+a change? Is this the beauty of which I was so fond? Fool that I was
+to set such store upon the very thing which has brought me to all this
+misery, and which is gone in an hour!” and, laying down my long ears,
+my heart felt well-nigh broken.
+
+In the midst of all my sorrows I suddenly roused up to the feeling of
+being very hungry. I had had nothing since the morning, and was quite
+faint and exhausted with my long gallop and all the agitation and
+excitement of the day. Looking around me, therefore, I tried to find
+something that I should like to eat, but there was nothing, actually
+nothing; for it was not to be supposed that a donkey, bred up as I had
+been, would condescend to make a meal of rank, sedgy grass, or a few
+bits of dried-up furze. Sorrow had not yet done its work. My proud
+spirit was chafed and angry—not broken; and I had still to learn that
+the meal I now despised might one day be eaten with gratitude.
+
+I was standing in the sullen gloom of despair when my new master
+came up to me. “So, Neddy,” he said, “you do not seem to be enjoying
+your meal. You will know better, my fine fellow, some day than to be
+particular about trifles. You will not be dainty long, I promise you.
+It will do you no harm for once to work upon an empty stomach. It will
+take down your spirit quicker than anything.”
+
+And, unclasping the log as he spoke, he swung it over my back, and led
+me up to the tent, where he proceeded to load me with every imaginable
+article. I might be frightened, as tin jingled against tin by every
+movement of my body; I might try to resist so heavy a load being placed
+upon my back; but it was all of no good; the weight was fixed upon my
+shoulders, and then I was driven off with blows as before.
+
+We seemed to be a large party,—one of my own family, but so old and
+ugly and wretched-looking that I turned from her in disgust, quite
+forgetting my own forlorn look, and all the wise reflections I had
+so lately made. This poor donkey carried some children and a number
+of things of which I did not know the use; and a sort of van, drawn
+by an old horse, conveyed the tent and all that the party might want
+beside. How long or where we travelled, I cannot say. I only know that
+I was faint and tired and weary, when at length we came to a halt in a
+wooded dell a little way from the roadside. It looked pretty enough in
+the bright moonlight, but I was too wayworn to think of that; and when
+my load was removed from my back, I lay down from sheer fatigue, and,
+shutting my eyes, tried to forget all my sorrows in sleep.
+
+Only this morning, and what a happy donkey I had been! I do not know
+well how to measure time; but it seemed to me as long since I had left
+my home as one of those dreary periods when my mistress was away from
+it. I thought of all my mother used to say to me about the changes of
+life, and how thankful I ought to be for the happy lot that had been
+given to me, and how grateful and desirous to value my blessings to
+the full; and now, when I had lost them all, I for the first time felt
+their value, and knew how lightly I had prized them.
+
+All, did I say? While I was thinking thus despondingly of my
+misfortunes, I heard a kind voice say to me: “Come, poor Neddy, here
+is something for you to eat,” and, looking up, I saw a little child
+holding toward me a large handful of hay. “Come, poor Neddy! good
+Neddy!” added the child, as she patted me kindly. Then, after all,
+I was not so utterly forsaken. Even in my utmost distress there was
+still something left to comfort me; and, as I gratefully munched the
+hay, I felt the first moment of happiness I had experienced since my
+misfortune. How often have I found since that there is no trial which
+may not be made more or less hard to bear by our own conduct under
+it,—few states so bad but that if we choose we can make them worse!
+Keep up a good heart, and be grateful for every little comfort as
+it comes. That is my advice. I only wish I could speak out, and let
+my masters know how much lies in their power to make us, their poor
+servants, happy. If they knew how grateful we feel for kindness, and
+how much readier we are to go for a kind word than a hard blow, perhaps
+they would learn to treat us better, if only for their own sake.
+
+Anyway, I felt happier as I lay down that night to rest; and it was a
+child’s act and a child’s words which had made me so.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+NEDDY TRAVELS
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+  I TRAVEL TO ALL PARTS OF ENGLAND, AND MAKE ACQUAINTANCE WITH EVERY
+  VARIETY OF PEOPLE—AT LENGTH I GO TO LONDON—REGENT STREET IN MIDDAY—A
+  RECOGNITION—I MAKE MY FIRST APPEARANCE IN A POLICE STATION, AND PROVE
+  MYSELF A VALUABLE WITNESS—I TAKE UP MY ABODE IN THE “GREEN YARD.”
+
+
+I was aroused very early the next morning from the enjoyment of my
+quiet sleep by a sharp kick in the side. Jumping up as quickly as
+possible, I saw my master standing by me ready dressed. Putting the
+bridle over my head, he led me to where the rest of the party were
+sitting having their breakfast. They did not offer anything to me,
+however, and I was obliged to content myself with a few bites of grass
+from the roadside. To judge from the eager talking that went on, some
+very important matter was being decided. In a few moments, my master,
+throwing some light articles for sale over my shoulders, jumped upon
+my back himself, and, saying good-bye to his companions, set me off at
+a good sharp trot. We had not gone very far when my master suddenly
+pulled me up, and seemed hesitating whether he should turn me around or
+not. I was wondering what we were to do next, when I saw a man coming
+toward me, whom I recognized as a workman occasionally employed on my
+dear old master’s farm. Oh, how my heart beat for joy! “Now,” thought
+I, “who knows but he may deliver me?” and I came to a dead halt,
+intending, when the man passed by, to endeavour to attract his notice.
+But my rider was apparently aware of my intention, for he gave me two
+or three such frightful kicks, that, almost sick with the pain, I found
+myself obliged to go on in spite of myself; but I sidled up as much as
+possible to the side of the road where the man was walking.
+
+He looked hard at us as we passed, and something seemed to attract his
+attention.
+
+“Hallo!” he said; “you seem to have got a smart-looking donkey there.”
+
+“The most obstinate brute that ever was seen,” returned my master; and
+he took advantage of the observation to give me some severe cuts over
+the head, which so stupefied me that I could not understand what the
+man next said. There seemed to be a long and very angry discussion; but
+it ended by the man walking away, and my master urging me on to the
+extent of my powers in the opposite direction. How grieved I felt then!
+how angry with the man for his stupidity in not recognizing me and
+taking me home! I was yet to learn what an important influence over my
+future destiny this chance meeting was to have.
+
+It would be tedious to endeavour to give any detailed account of my
+present mode of life; indeed, one day was so like another that to
+describe one is to describe all. I had fallen into the hands of a
+peddler, who went through the country, now selling one kind of goods,
+now another, as the case might be, to suit the various tastes of
+the different communities in the neighbourhood of which we found
+ourselves. When I was first in his possession, we went miles and miles
+away from my own dear home; in fact, I soon lost all recollection of
+where it was, or in what direction I should have to turn to regain
+it. It was a cold, bleak district where we settled first,—very, very
+unlike the warm climate to which I had been accustomed, with its rich
+meadow-land and soft green grass, and bright sunlight. Here, where we
+now lived, there was nothing to be seen but smoke and dirt. The very
+grass was all cinders.
+
+At first I was half-scared out of my senses by the strange sights and
+noises which I saw and heard around me. At every turn in the road
+there seemed to burst forth fire and smoke; and as to the clank,
+clank, clank, bang, bang, bang, burr, burr, burr, it was unceasing
+from morning till night. And then the people, so unlike those amongst
+whom I had spent my early days. No clean smock-frocks and ruddy,
+healthy-looking faces; but grim, dirty men, wretched-looking women,
+and miserable children! It was quite sad to look at them, as I went
+from door to door, dragging my load of vegetables, or fish, or what
+not; and then to hear the swearing and the quarrelling, the bartering
+and the chaffering,—oh, how unlike my mistress’s sweet voice! how
+different from those quiet drives in the green lanes of my native
+country! Ah! now that it was too late, how bitterly I repented me of my
+past misconduct, and thought, if the time had but to come over again,
+how differently I would behave! It is of no use, however, to expect
+that any one will profit by my experience. It is just one of those
+things that every one will insist upon buying for themselves; and then,
+when they have to pay the bill, they grumble, and say: “How very dear
+it comes!” Of course it does; but perhaps it is as well,—we should not
+value it else. We never do value anything that we get cheap. I often
+used to hear my master say that.
+
+“Put on a good price, and keep to it, Betsy,” he would tell his wife.
+
+“But really, Jem, this or that is not worth the sum you name,” his wife
+would occasionally reply, for my new mistress was a good-hearted woman.
+
+“A thing is worth what it will fetch,” my master would answer. “Offer
+it for a lower price, and the people will suspect it to be bad
+directly.”
+
+And so, often and often, when I stood before the doors of the cottages
+with whose inhabitants my master did business, I had to listen to such
+lies and impositions that my heart grieved for the poor people who were
+made such easy dupes. But what could I do? I could only turn my head
+around, and look up gravely in their faces, and wag my ears; and then
+they said—if they said anything to me at all—“How troublesome the flies
+are to your poor donkey to-day!” and they did not know that I was not
+thinking about myself, but wondering how it came to be how they were so
+quickly tickled by a little skilful flattery. There are worse flies,
+thought I, than those which are biting me!
+
+I had wished to see life, and I saw it now in some of its saddest and
+most miserable forms. Oh, what places we went into! My stable at my
+dear old master’s was a palace, compared with the homes of hundreds of
+men, women, and children with whom I now made acquaintance; and then
+the want of light and air,—why, sometimes I could hardly see how to
+pick my way along the broken pavement; and as to air,—I could not have
+got up a bray, no, not if you had promised me a feed of grain to do
+so. How human beings could live in such an atmosphere, I knew not. It
+almost killed me to drag my load along in it.
+
+But we did not always stay in the neighbourhood of these great towns.
+Sometimes we would go long journeys across the country, visiting fairs
+and other merrymakings. And these were times of peculiar hardship to
+me: morning, noon, night, I was always at work, and hardly a moment
+was allowed for me to snatch a hasty meal. No sooner had I dragged
+the cart, filled with articles for sale, to its appointed post than,
+instead of being allowed to stand to rest and amuse myself by falling
+into the state of half-dreamy unconsciousness so delightful to all our
+race, I was taken out of the shafts, a saddle placed upon my back, and
+then I was let out by the hour to as many mischievous urchins as chose
+to take their full pennyworth of pleasure by the kicking and beating
+which seem to constitute the peculiar delights of a donkey ride.
+
+[Illustration: I was let out by the hour.]
+
+A terrible time I had of it on those fair days and race-grounds, for,
+being a more than usually handsome and powerful beast of my kind, I
+was the one invariably chosen by “plucky” fellows, who wished for “a
+lark;” and small pity they had on Neddy’s legs or sides; and, as to
+trying to kick them off, it was only to add to my misery and their
+fun. The more I kicked, the faster fell their blows, and the louder
+rang their laughter; and if sometimes, in despair, I turned sulky, and
+refused to go at all, it only increased my discomfort by giving time to
+two or three of my tormentors to get up at once, when, with hooting,
+and shouts, and jeers, I should at length be obliged to give in and
+gallop ignominiously my appointed round.
+
+But there was one very important good which arose to me out of all this
+trouble. My master, seeing the admiration I excited by my handsome
+shape and form, took the greatest pains to make me look as attractive
+as possible, in the hope, I suppose, of increasing his earnings. My
+coat had by this time recovered from the ill-treatment it had received,
+and, by dint of a good dressing, could be made to acquire something of
+its original gloss; and as I now occasionally got a feed of grain, my
+appearance was altogether plumper and more like myself. But it must not
+be supposed that I was merely delighted to hear myself admired. I will
+not deny that it was far pleasanter to know that I was no longer the
+wretched, dirty, miserable, half-starved wretch that I had been for so
+many months; but my great cause for rejoicing in the change was that I
+thought, if by any chance I should ever meet with my dear mistress, it
+was possible that she now might recognize me.
+
+In all my trouble, I had never for one moment forgotten her, and the
+hope that I might yet see her again was the one bright spot that
+enlightened many a dark and dreary hour. Ah! how constantly I looked
+out for her sweet face! how eagerly my ears listened to catch the sound
+of her well-remembered voice! And then my heart would die away within
+me, as I thought, “How is it possible that she should remember me?
+There is not a trace of her Neddy left in this ragged, dirty, jaded
+donkey;” and I would hang down my ears, and put my tail closer between
+my legs, as I felt the utter hopelessness of all chance of escaping
+from my present slavery.
+
+With the knowledge, however, that I was recovering something of my
+former appearance, my spirits rose, and I became more than ever eager
+for the meeting with my mistress; but it never seemed to come. I would
+stand in the market-place of a town, and hundreds and hundreds of
+people passed by me, and I would look wistfully in their faces; but
+they were nothing to me, nor I to them. I would visit quiet country
+houses, and I hoped and thought—who knew?—she might be among the
+guests; but no, we went and came, but we never saw the one being who
+was ever present to my recollection.
+
+Time passed on,—I cannot tell you how long it was, I have no means of
+reckoning,—but at length our journeyings seemed to take a direction
+different from any they had taken before. We had left the land of fire
+and smoke, we had passed by the quiet villages, in the midst of green
+fields and narrow lanes and high hedges, and we came upon a country
+of endless, endless houses. What a stir, and bustle, and confusion!
+I had never seen anything like it, and I felt quite bewildered with
+the countless carriages and people that were passing me by on every
+side,—street after street, street after street, and every street as
+crowded as the one we had just left. Lights flaring, carts rattling,
+people pushing. I could hardly get along for terror and surprise,
+and at every moment I expected some of the great ponderous wagons or
+overwhelming-looking omnibuses would run over me and the slight little
+cart I drew, and crunch us both to atoms. If this was London, it was a
+very horrid place!
+
+But use is second nature, and I soon became accustomed to all the
+sights and sounds that had at first so much alarmed me, and could walk
+down a street in the full tide of daily traffic as unconcernedly as I
+should have wandered across a solitary common.
+
+I had thought my life a very hard one when travelling about the country
+to visit the different fair and race grounds; but it was happiness
+itself compared with the wretched monotony of my present experience,
+with its unceasing toil, scanty food, and dirty shelter. In the country
+I could at least have the ground, such as it was, to lie upon, room
+to stretch myself and roll, air to breathe, occasional good meals of
+grass, and a drink of pure, fresh water; but in London I was forced
+to content myself with a dark hole of a stable, so small I could
+hardly turn myself, and so dirty it made me sick; and I thought myself
+well off on those days when I could appease my hunger with a few
+stale, decaying cabbage leaves, and quench my thirst with a drink of
+half-putrid water.
+
+And then the work was incessant. At earliest break of day I was
+harnessed to the carriage I had to draw,—a sort of truck on wheels,
+with a thing like a door laid all along on the top; and then my master
+would seat himself in front, and off we would rattle, I trotting over
+the stones as fast as my poor tired legs would carry me; for it was
+an important object to get first to a great market held in the midst
+of London, and so take up a good place for purchasing such fruit and
+vegetables and flowers as should not be judged good enough for the rich
+customers to Covent Garden.
+
+If I had not felt so depressed and down-hearted, I might often have
+been amused by the bustling scene around me. It was a pretty sight,
+there is no denying it, to see the carts coming in piled with their
+fresh and fragrant loads, women with baskets of the most deliciously
+scented flowers, and men with every variety of luscious-looking fruit.
+Oh, how my mouth would water as the carts passed by me full of fresh
+carrots or turnips, or soft new green stuff! How I looked and longed
+that some kind hand would give me just one taste! But no; I must stand
+hour after hour in the midst of all this plenty, faint and weary,
+and then think myself happy if an old yellow cabbage—so bad that
+the very slugs rejected it—was thrown to me as my morning meal. How
+often would I then look back to my early home, and remember all my
+grumbling discontent if I had had a little less grain than usual, or
+if the hay might not have been quite so sweet as suited my fastidious
+palate! There is nothing like want and hunger to cure daintiness; and
+I think it would be a very good thing if some of those who are always
+complaining and repining if things are not quite to their mind, should
+make trial for awhile of this sharpener to their appetites.
+
+When my master had completed his morning purchases, which varied with
+the season of the year, we used to quit the market, and start upon our
+daily rounds, making our way through miles of streets, till we came to
+a part of the city that bore some faint resemblance to a country town.
+
+The houses were much lower than those in the streets through which we
+passed. They stood alone, or in twos and threes, in little gardens of
+their own; and they seemed to be inhabited by persons more like those
+we had been accustomed to deal with in the country towns than the
+ladies and gentlemen I would occasionally see stepping into their grand
+carriages as we passed through the great streets and squares. I used to
+wish they would have dealt with us instead; then, indeed, there might
+have been some hope of my finding my dear mistress; but how was it
+possible I should see her in the out-of-the-way suburbs where we plied
+our morning work, or in the lowest streets of the metropolis, where we
+were always to be found at night? Morning dawned after morning, night
+closed after night,—still the same round of toil, and still no hope of
+escape.
+
+My master had had a more than usually successful morning’s round; my
+load was disposed of, and we were returning leisurely down Regent
+Street, when he was suddenly accosted by a man who was walking on the
+pavement. Being in a particularly good humour, my master returned
+the greeting cordially enough, and the two friends soon agreed to go
+together to some saloon near, to take a glass to keep out the cold, and
+to drink to their mutual prosperity.
+
+“Here, you see to the donkey, Tom,” said my master to a boy who
+generally went his rounds with him; “and do not you let nobody touch
+him nor the cart till I come back again. Do you hear, Tom?”
+
+“Yes, I hear,” was the somewhat sulky reply; and, drawing me up close
+to the curbstone, where I should be as much as possible out of the
+way, my master, saying he should not be gone long, turned up a narrow
+street with his companion, and was soon out of sight.
+
+Tired with my morning’s round, and having had but a scanty breakfast, I
+was glad enough of the rest, and was just composing myself to a quiet
+sleep, when I suddenly heard a voice, which made every limb in my body
+tremble with joy, exclaim, eagerly:
+
+“Why, Neddy, Neddy! dear Neddy! Do you remember me?”
+
+Remember her! my own dear, dear mistress! Could I ever forget her?
+Half-wild with delight, I forgot where I was, and, dragging the cart
+after me on to the pavement, I began a series of ecstatic brays,
+rubbing my nose at the same time against the kind hand that was held
+out to me, and endeavouring to show, by every means in my power, my
+unbounded joy at again beholding my beloved mistress.
+
+“Oh, look, papa, papa!” exclaimed my mistress. “Neddy knows me! Neddy
+remembers me! Good Neddy! Dear old Neddy!”
+
+In her delight at seeing me, my mistress had, like myself, forgotten
+that Regent Street, in the middle of the day, is rather a public place
+in which to give way to outbursts of affection. Already a crowd had
+gathered around us, some wondering, some laughing, some standing by in
+silent curiosity to see what would be the end of this strange greeting;
+cabmen drawing up to enjoy the fun; omnibus drivers and conductors
+lingering on their way, and looking back to see what all the confusion
+was about; every moment the mob increased, swelled, as it was sure to
+be, by the crowd of dirty boys and idle loungers that in London springs
+up at a moment’s notice, no one knows how, no one knows from where.
+
+“Annie, my dear Annie, this is no place for you!” exclaimed a voice
+that I did not recognize; and, looking up, I saw a fine, tall,
+handsome-looking man, who drew my mistress’s hand away from me, and
+placed it on his own arm.
+
+“Papa dear, will you see about Neddy?” said my mistress, looking
+around, evidently frightened and bewildered by the confusion around
+her, and endeavouring to make her way through the crowd of bystanders.
+
+But having so lately discovered her, I was in no humour to let her
+go; and utterly disregarding every impediment in my way, I pushed on,
+braying loudly as I went. Peals of laughter greeted my attempt.
+
+“Make way for the lady! make way for the donkey!” “Hurrah, Neddy,
+hurrah!” “Do it again, Neddy! do it again!” shouted the boys; whilst,
+encouraged by their cheers, I pushed and pushed more strenuously than
+before.
+
+Louder and louder rose the peals of laughter; higher and higher swelled
+the cheers; and, thinking I was doing the most appropriate thing
+possible, I redoubled my efforts to keep up with my mistress, when,
+just at this moment, who should come down the street but my late master!
+
+“Hallo!” he exclaimed, with a coarse oath; “what is all this row about?
+Who is interfering with my property?” and he put out his hand to seize
+me fiercely by the rein.
+
+“Stay! stay!” said Mr. Morton, in a voice so calm and firm that I felt
+the hand upon my bridle tremble. “I rather think it is you, my man,
+who have been interfering with my property. Here,” added Mr. Morton,
+turning to two or three of the police, who had by this time made their
+way to the spot, and were actively employed in keeping back the crowd,
+“I want your assistance here. I have reason to believe that this
+donkey, which belongs to my daughter, was stolen from me three years
+ago by this man. I give him into custody on this charge, and require
+that you meantime should take the donkey into safe keeping.”
+
+It would be impossible to describe the man’s rage as he listened to
+these words. He swore, he stamped, he abused Mr. Morton in every
+angry epithet he could think of; and yet all the time he trembled,
+and did not once dare to look his accuser in the face. Directing the
+policemen to bring their prisoner to a police station, where he could
+substantiate his charge, Mr. Morton jumped into a cab, and was driven
+quickly from the spot, leaving me in the hands of the policemen, and
+bewildered by the rapidity of events which, long as they have taken to
+tell, passed in the space of a few minutes.
+
+My first feeling at finding that my dear mistress had again departed
+was one of unmitigated terror, and I looked around in trembling dread
+that now, being once more at the mercy of my brutal master, I should
+be made to suffer some horrible punishment for having thus given way
+to my delight at seeing my long-lost friend. But I soon found that,
+for the present, at any rate, I had nothing to dread. Struggle as he
+would, my master was in stronger hands than his own. He might curse and
+swear at me, but he had no power to do more, as, led along gently by a
+tall, grave, powerful-looking man, and followed by a crowd of noisy,
+hooting, cheering boys, I slowly made my way down street after street,
+until, finally, I was stopped before the door of one of the largest
+police stations of the metropolis. Here my master disappeared from my
+view, whilst I remained standing in the street, under the charge of my
+grave-looking conductor, and surrounded by a continually increasing
+crowd, to whom I was evidently an object of the greatest amusement and
+curiosity.
+
+Some time had passed in this manner, when the policeman who led me
+was joined by one of his companions, who, having said some words very
+quickly to him, of which I only caught “donkey and cart,” there was a
+renewed bustle and stir around me, and then the traces that fastened
+me to the cart were unhooked, and I was led through the crowd, now
+cheering louder than before, toward a doorway, so blocked up by people
+that I felt quite frightened, and refused to go on.
+
+“Come, Neddy, come along,” said the policeman who had held me hitherto.
+“There is no one who will hurt you here; you need not be afraid.” And
+at the same time he desired his companion to go on, and make a way
+through the crowd.
+
+Encouraged by the kind voice in which he spoke, and by seeing that
+the people fell back right and left at the orders of his companion, I
+plucked up my courage, and stepped through the door into a passage,
+broad and paved with stones like those on which people walk in the
+streets of London. I had never been in such an odd place before, and
+I did not half like it, and was more than once inclined to turn back;
+but the man kept a firm but gentle hold of me, leading me on, till at
+last two great doors were thrown open, and I found myself in a large
+room filled with people, sitting on benches raised one above another. I
+was quite bewildered at the sight of so many heads,—more especially as
+at my first coming in there was a general buzz of voices, and all eyes
+were evidently fixed on myself.
+
+A loud cry of “Silence! silence!” gave me a moment to recover myself,
+and then I heard a grave voice say:
+
+“Let the donkey judge for himself. You are at liberty to call him,”
+added the gentleman, turning to my late master, whom I now for the
+first time perceived standing in an open space in the centre of the
+room.
+
+“Here, Neddy—Neddy—come here, Neddy. There is a good donkey, come
+here,” said the man in a voice of the most insinuating gentleness; but
+as I had never heard him speak so before, no wonder I did not recognize
+its tones, and the only answer I made was to hang down my ears and
+plant my tail very firmly between my legs.
+
+There was a general burst of laughter that not the presence of that
+grave-looking gentleman, nor the reiterated cries of “Silence! silence
+in the court, there!” could in any measure suppress; while a voice
+exclaimed: “He has had the donkey, that is clear enough, for the poor
+brute thinks he is going to beat him now. Hush! hush! See what he is
+going to do next. Here comes the lady. Silence! Hush! hush!”
+
+[Illustration: I went right up to my mistress.]
+
+“Now, madam, it is your turn,” I heard the grave-looking gentleman say;
+and in another moment I saw my dear mistress rise up from a seat by his
+side, and, leaning on the arm of her father, come down into the open
+court.
+
+“Neddy! dear Neddy!” she said, just in the way that she used to call me
+up to the fence years ago. I forgot all my past misery, and, thinking
+only of my joy at beholding her, I set up such a bray as I had never
+brayed in all my life before! Oh, how the people shouted with laughter!
+The very judge could not resist the infection of their merriment, and
+gave way in spite of himself.
+
+Why, what had I done that was so ridiculous? I could only express my
+joy with the voice which nature had given me. If it was not so sweet
+and gentle as some of theirs, that was not my fault. At any other
+moment my self-love might have been seriously wounded; but now I could
+only think of my delight, and, breaking away from the policemen who
+held me, I went right up to my mistress, and, rubbing my nose against
+her hand, I whinnied out my happiness, entreating her as best I could
+to let me stay with her now and for ever.
+
+There was no laughter in the court then; and I have heard my mistress
+say since that there were tears in many an eye. Real, genuine affection
+is somewhat rare in this world, and, when it is found, it goes straight
+to the heart even of the most hardened; and there are few so bad that
+they will make fun of the evidence of pure, unselfish love.
+
+There was a minute’s pause, and then I heard the grave man say, in
+tones of such kindness as showed his interest in my fate:
+
+“I am quite satisfied, madam. No witnesses that could be produced
+could speak half so strongly to the truth of your case as does the
+affectionate remembrance of the poor dumb beast. That the donkey is
+the one that was stolen from you three years ago, there can be no
+doubt. All that remains to be proved is, who did the deed; and that, I
+am afraid, with all his sagacity, the animal will not be able to tell
+us. I shall send the case to trial; and in the meanwhile,” turning to
+Mr. Morton, “it is for you to produce the evidence that the man now
+charged with the theft was the person who stole the donkey.”
+
+“I have no doubt whatever that I shall be able to do so,” replied Mr.
+Morton.
+
+“You can remove the donkey out of court,” said the grave gentleman, and
+then he turned to my late master, who was standing dogged and silent,
+in charge of two of the police, and proceeded to address him in terms
+which I did not understand, my whole attention being now fixed upon
+myself, and upon the thought of being separated from my dear mistress,
+whom I had vainly hoped I was never to leave again. In my anxiety to
+remain by her side, I quite forgot that I was in a court of justice,
+and that, as a well-bred English donkey, it was my duty to submit
+myself to the laws of my land, and I struggled hard to pull away from
+the policeman’s hold, and to follow my mistress, who was now led back
+by her father to the seat from which she had risen.
+
+I do not know how the struggle might have ended; but, seeing that my
+endeavours to get free were disturbing the whole court, my mistress
+once more came up to me, and, patting me gently on the forehead: “Oh,
+Neddy,” she said, “this is very naughty of you! Come with me.” How
+could I disobey?
+
+“You may leave him,” she said to my conductor; “he will go away with me
+directly.”
+
+Go away with her? Of course I would, to the world’s end. My first
+journey, however, was destined to be a much shorter one; for, no sooner
+had I quietly walked by her side through the court-house into the
+passage than, placing my rein in the hand of the policeman:
+
+“He will follow you now, I think,” she said. “Go, Neddy; there is a
+good Neddy. I will come to see you very soon. Good-bye, Neddy!” and,
+patting me kindly, before I had time to look around, she was gone.
+
+A crowd, little short of that which had accompanied me to the court,
+was awaiting my return, and eager inquiries greeted my conductor as to
+the result of the trial. Every one talked so fast and so loud that I
+could not make out much of what was said; but I gathered sufficient
+to make me very happy in the feeling I should soon be restored to my
+pleasant home, and that meanwhile I was to be left in the care of my
+present guardian, whose kindness toward me had already impressed me
+greatly in his favour.
+
+I gleaned, too, from what I heard, that the result of the trial
+depended mainly on the evidence of some man who was supposed to have
+seen me soon after I was stolen from my dear mistress.
+
+This set my brain working; and, as I walked by the side of my conductor
+toward my new place of abode, I tried hard to recall all the events
+of the past three years, and think whether there was any one person
+whom I could remember who could have recognized me in the time of my
+degradation. In vain! in vain! I could not recall one old friend who
+could bear testimony to my identity.
+
+Suddenly there came upon me a flash of light, and I bethought me of the
+man who, on that wretched morning after my capture, had refused, as I
+then thought, to rescue me from my dreaded slavery. Who knew but that
+now he might come forward, and, recognizing my master as the man he had
+then accosted, might for ever set me free from his power?
+
+It was a bright and happy thought, and kept me up through several long,
+long days of dreary suspense,—days rendered so much the longer that I
+had nothing whatever to do, but to ruminate sadly over the past. Not
+but that I was comfortable enough in my present abode, and had plenty
+to eat and to drink; but I had been so accustomed of late to an active,
+stirring life that I got tired of standing hour after hour tied up to
+a manger, with no one to speak to but a few chance companions, who,
+like myself, were condemned to a temporary imprisonment. We had all our
+griefs and sorrows, and could all, no doubt, have told some strange and
+wonderful adventures; but, one and all, we shrunk from anything like
+fellowship, and, shutting up in our own hearts our hopes or our fears,
+awaited, with what patience we could, the verdict which was to open to
+us our new and unknown career.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+NEDDY GETS HOME AGAIN
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+  THE TRIAL COMES TO AN END—AN OLD FRIEND VISITS MY STABLE—I TAKE MY
+  FIRST RAILROAD TRIP AND FIND MYSELF IN WELL-REMEMBERED SCENES—HOME
+  AGAIN—CONCLUSION.
+
+
+As days passed on, and still I neither saw nor heard anything of my
+dear mistress, my heart misgave me. Was it possible, after all, that
+she had forsaken me? Would she give me back into the power of that
+dreadful man? Oh, how I wished that I had not suffered myself to be led
+out of the court! that I had stayed by her side, and never lost sight
+of her until I was once more in the pleasant green fields of my early
+home. It was in vain to regret the past.
+
+I might fume and fret, but it would make no difference to the tiresome
+present. If I could but have released myself from the bridle that bound
+me to my stall, I would have made my escape from the stable, and never
+rested, I thought, until I had once again found my mistress. Happily
+for me, I was not permitted to accomplish my object, or my second
+flight might have been attended with as disastrous consequences as my
+first; all that I got by my efforts to escape was to draw upon myself
+the attention of my guardians, and make them secure me more carefully
+than before.
+
+I hated them then,—foolish donkey that I was!—but I have owed them such
+a debt of gratitude ever since that nothing pains me more than to hear
+a word said against the police. Let every one speak as they find; I
+say, they are a fine, brave body of men, who have a very difficult duty
+to perform, and do it faithfully and well.
+
+But to come back to myself. I was standing musing, I am afraid, in a
+very discontented state of mind, when I heard the door of the stable
+open. Thinking, however, it was only one of the men come to attend
+to their work, I did not even trouble myself to turn my head, until
+suddenly I felt a hand laid on my shoulder, and heard a voice I
+thought I remembered say, sadly enough:
+
+“Why, Neddy! who would have thought that you and I should have met
+again in such a place as this; and you so altered? Poor old Neddy! how
+badly you have been used!”
+
+Old Neddy, indeed! My heart swelled with such mortified vanity at the
+name that for the moment—ungrateful that I was!—I felt more vexation
+than pleasure as I recognized Thomas standing by my side. But it was
+only a momentary feeling, and, looking up in his face, I endeavoured to
+show my pleasure at seeing any one connected with old times.
+
+“Ah, Neddy!” continued Thomas, “so you know me, do you? It is more than
+I should have done by you. You do look dreadful bad. Why, I shall never
+get that rough, shaggy coat of yours right again. No, not though I
+groom you for hours at a time.”
+
+Thomas groom me again! I never thought of the rudeness of the speech in
+my exceeding joy at hearing I was to be again in his care. Ah! then I
+must be free from my detested master. I must be going back to the home
+and the mistress I loved so well.
+
+“So it is all over, is it?” inquired a policeman, who at that moment
+entered the stable and proceeded to unfasten my bridle.
+
+“Yes; it was decided some hours ago,” said Thomas. “It was a queer
+trial, was it not?”
+
+“The queerest I have ever heard,” returned the policeman; “and that is
+saying a good deal, for strange stories come to our ears. If it had
+not been for this donkey here, ten to one your master would never have
+gained his cause. The man told a wonderful plausible tale. But this
+dumb beast here told a better. You should have been in court that day.
+It was a sight to remember, and there was many a one who thought it no
+shame to be seen with tears in their eyes; and as to Mr. Wickharde, I
+never seed him so moved in all my life. That donkey is a first-rate
+witness. For my part, I would rather have him than half the men I know.”
+
+This testimony in my favour seemed to raise me in the estimation of
+Thomas, for he patted me far more kindly than before, saying: “Poor old
+Neddy! He will be glad enough to be amongst his old friends again.”
+
+“How did the trial go?” asked the policeman. “I wanted to hear the end;
+but I was on duty here this morning, and could not manage it. I almost
+thought they would have sent for the donkey, and I meant to have taken
+him down myself.”
+
+“It did not last long,” returned Thomas; “there was no question about
+the donkey being Mr. Morton’s property. The only point was whether
+Jackson stole him or not; fortunately, he had been met by one of
+master’s own workmen the morning after the theft. Jackson was riding
+the donkey at that moment, and Mills felt sure he recognized it by the
+star on its forehead. It is a very peculiar mark, you see,” continued
+Thomas, as he turned my head to the light, and pushed back some shaggy
+hairs. “Jackson had never thought of concealing it; and it was rare and
+lucky for Neddy he did forget.
+
+“Mills had words with Jackson at the time about the donkey; but the
+man rode off, and Mills did not like to stop him, for he did not know
+our donkey had been stolen; however, he came on straight to our house,
+and told his story; but master was away at the moment, and so time
+was lost; and when the Squire returned, and a hue and cry was raised,
+Jackson had got clean away, and from that day to this we have never
+been able to get clue nor trace of him, nor of the donkey neither.
+
+“And it is wonderful, I say, how all this matter has been found out;
+and it just shows me that, sooner or later, God, who watches over all,
+will bring our crimes to light. Murder will out, they say; and I think
+theft must be much the same. Well, of course, as soon as mistress
+claimed Neddy here, the first thing to do was to send for Mills, and he
+swore to the donkey and swore to the man, and the verdict was given in
+favour of my master.”
+
+“Ah!” thought I; “I see it all now; why, how stupid I have been! So
+that was the man who came in the other day when I was eating my grain,
+and I was so cross at being disturbed, and so sulky, I would hardly
+let him look at my head; and, after all, he had only come to save me,
+and I, like a fool, was angry at a momentary inconvenience. Neddy,”
+thought I, “will you never learn wisdom by experience? will you never
+understand your own utter ignorance,”—and I gave such a great sigh that
+Thomas broke off his speech suddenly, and, looking at me, added, with a
+smile:
+
+“Well, I should like to know what the beast has got in his head now. He
+always had such a queer way with him; I believe he understands every
+word we say. If he could but speak, maybe it would be a strange story
+he would have to tell us.”
+
+Strange? Strange indeed! Ah, you men! with all your wisdom, it is but
+little you know of what is passing through the minds and hearts of
+poor dumb beasts.
+
+The idea of freedom was still so new to me that I could hardly realize
+the fact that I was safe from the brutal treatment of the man whom,
+for the last three years, I had been forced to call my master; and, as
+Thomas led me out of my place of confinement, and I found myself once
+more in the streets of London, I turned and looked about me in nervous
+dread, fearing that I should suddenly hear the sound of Jackson’s hated
+voice, and feel myself in the grasp of his powerful hand.
+
+“So, whoo, Neddy! gently, my man!” exclaimed Thomas, in the reassuring
+voice of old times. “No need to be afraid now; there is nobody coming
+to hurt you. Come on, old fellow, come on. Come, make haste, and do not
+put your tail between your legs in that miserable way. I ain’t a-going
+to flog you, Neddy. Why, you are making a sight of yourself and me,
+too!”
+
+True enough. I felt I looked a pitiful, craven-spirited wretch; but
+I had been so long accustomed to find that a word and a blow went
+together that it had become a sort of habit of nature to endeavour
+to protect myself from the assault, and I could have no more helped
+cowering down and holding my tail tight between my legs than I could
+have prevented myself from blinking if I had been forced to look
+suddenly at the sun.
+
+However, seeing that Thomas was vexed at my miserable appearance, and
+not wishing to mortify the kind-hearted old man, I endeavoured to pluck
+up courage, and to trot along by his side with somewhat of the air and
+spirit of bygone days; and, as I found that we passed street after
+street, and square after square, without stop or molestation, I began
+gradually to acquire confidence, and to believe in the reality of my
+deliverance. Having gone a considerable distance, we at length arrived
+at the entrance to one of the great railway stations.
+
+“Now, my man,” said Thomas, as he pulled me up for a moment, and gave
+me an encouraging pat, “do not you go for to make a fool of me and
+yourself; you are going to see queer sights and hear queer sounds, so
+make up your mind to behave like a sensible beast, as you are. There,
+do you hear that? that is one of them,” added Thomas, as a shriek was
+suddenly heard close by our side, followed by screeches, little less
+discordant, ending in a series of agitated puffs, as if some mighty
+monster was giving up the ghost.
+
+“Do you hear that, eh, Neddy?” repeated Thomas, as he turned my head in
+the direction of the noise, as if to accustom me to the sound.
+
+Hear it? Of course I did; but what did I care for it? Had I not been
+accustomed to almost every railway in the kingdom? and did not I know
+the sound of a locomotive, bursting for very spite at being stopped in
+its mad career?
+
+Often and often, when I had been drawn up by the side of some country
+railroad station, had I speculated on the nature of those great iron
+animals that, day after day, and night after night, go tearing along
+across the country, dragging their loads after them, without ever
+so much as seeming to feel their weight, or ever showing symptoms of
+vexation or weariness, except when they are pulled up in mid-career:
+then, indeed, they squeak, and spit, and hiss, and make a pretty to-do.
+Ah! often and often as I had watched the locomotives, I had wished I
+had a skin like theirs. I envied them their strength and powers of
+endurance. I afraid of them? I should think not, indeed; and, quite
+proud to have an opportunity of reinstating myself in Thomas’s good
+opinion, I held up my head, and, shaking my ears with an air of supreme
+indifference, I walked with dignified unconcern right into the shed
+where the engine was showering out a perfect cloud of white breath.
+
+“Well done, Neddy! good donkey!” said Thomas, patting me approvingly;
+and then he proceeded to lead me up the platform to where a great
+square box was standing with its doors wide open. Into this dark,
+uncomfortable-looking cage he bade me enter; and now I confess a
+feeling of terror came over me, putting all my boasted courage at
+once to flight, and, turning around, I struggled hard to escape from
+Thomas’s hold.
+
+“Whoo, hoo—gently, stoopid! What is the matter?” said Thomas, crossly.
+“Why, what are you afraid of now? Who is going to hurt you, Neddy?”
+
+Ah, indeed, who? “How am I to tell,” thought I, “shut up all alone in
+that dark prison? Who is to say whether I shall ever make my escape
+alive, or, if I am so fortunate, whether it may not be only to fall
+into the hands of my tormentor; or, worse still, who can say that he is
+not hidden in some dark corner of the box?”
+
+“Why, Neddy, one would think that you expected to find your late master
+there,” added Thomas, in a milder tone.
+
+“And so I do,” thought I; but how was I to tell him so?
+
+“You need not be afraid, old donkey,” continued Thomas; “he is far
+enough away now. He cannot get to you. Come, Neddy, come along; you
+will be quite safe and comfortable in there, and I will give you some
+grain to eat, and you may amuse yourself with it during your ride.
+Come, Neddy, come along.”
+
+It was impossible to misdoubt the kind tones of Thomas’s voice.
+
+“If he meant any treachery against me, he would never speak like that,”
+thought I. “Besides, have not I always found him a true, good friend?
+and is it not very wrong not to trust him now?” and I turned around and
+looked into the box. It did not look pleasant, certainly; but, after
+all, I had lived in worse places; and so, summoning up my resolution, I
+put one step on the sloping board that led up to the cell. Dear me! how
+hollow my footfall sounded! I did not like it at all, and was all for
+drawing back again; but Thomas was by my side, and for very shame I did
+not dare act the part of a faithless coward; so I took another step,
+and then another. Still that hollow, hollow sound. But it was over now,
+and I stood inside the box, and looked around, half in terror, half in
+surprise. It was not so very bad, after all.
+
+There were nice, soft-looking sides to the stall, and plenty of clean
+straw to lie upon; and Thomas remembered his promise, and put some
+food in the manger, and then, tying me up quite tight, he bade me
+good-bye. The doors were shut, and I was left alone in the darkness.
+Soon came a whistle, a shriek, and then a tremulous motion. Oh,
+how my heart sank within me! But there was no escape. I had but to
+submit, and bide my fate. Then my prison swang from side to side,
+and rush—rush—rush—roar—ro-r-r—ro-r-r-r—where were we going? I
+knew nothing—remembered nothing—till suddenly a vibration, a stop.
+Whirr—whirr—whirr—fainter grew the sound till now all again was
+silence. My box swings around—I feel quite sick with fright, when open
+fly the doors, and there stands Thomas, looking so kind and pleasant. I
+had never loved his face so well before.
+
+“Well, Neddy,” he said, as he undid my halter, “it is all over. We
+shall soon be at home again. Ay, do you remember the old place?” he
+added, as, leading me out of my prison, I stood still, sniffing in with
+delight the pure fresh air of heaven.
+
+Remember it? I should think so. I knew every inch of the ground as we
+drew toward home; and, forgetting all my troubles and sorrows, I kicked
+and jumped about as if I was once again the frolicsome donkey of years
+gone by. Even gruff old Thomas seemed moved by this evidence of my
+delight; and, throwing off his usual dry, hard manner, he spoke to me
+so kindly that my heart leaped again and again with joy. But when at
+length the gates of my own dear, dear home came in sight, I could no
+longer contain myself, and trotted on as fast as my legs could carry
+me, Thomas letting go the rein, saying, with a smile: “You know your
+way now, old fellow, I guess, and will not run away again, I fancy.”
+
+Open went the gates, and then the avenue was before me, straight now
+up to the doorsteps; and whom should I spy standing there, but my
+mistress, and her father, and the strange gentleman. Oh, how I kicked
+up my heels with joy, and then galloped up the drive as I never thought
+my old legs could have galloped more!
+
+You should have heard my mistress’s merry laugh. It was the pleasantest
+sound my ears had listened to for many a long day past; and you should
+have seen how she patted and caressed me, and called me her “dear old
+Neddy—her good, faithful donkey;” adding: “We will never part again—no,
+never. Will we, Neddy?”
+
+I could only rub my nose against her soft white hand, and whinny out
+my joy and gratitude. My heart was too full; I almost thought it must
+have burst from my excess of happiness. And then, when she led me—she,
+my own dear mistress herself—to the field where I had spent all the
+first happy years of my existence, who may describe the emotions which
+overpowered me? First, I galloped around and around the field; then I
+threw myself down on the soft green grass, and rolled, and rolled, and
+rolled myself again and again in my ecstasy. Then, at last, rising
+up, and looking around me, I seemed as if I could never tire of gazing
+at all the well-remembered spots. Every twig in the hedges seemed
+like some old familiar friend; and as the birds sang out their merry
+songs from the boughs of the trees which had so often sheltered me, it
+sounded to me as if they, too, were carolling forth my welcome home.
+
+Home! Ah! those who have never lost it can never fully appreciate its
+value; and, as I lay down to rest that night, it was with feelings of
+such overflowing gratitude as I know not how to express.
+
+I thought of my mother’s words, and how she had warned me against the
+self-willed, presumptuous spirit that had made me discontented with
+my happy lot. I remembered my own insolence to herself, and how I had
+mocked her when she had foretold that hard blows and bad fare would
+bring down my proud spirit, and make me understand the blessing of my
+quiet green fields and tranquil, peaceful home.
+
+“I understand it all, sure enough, now,” thought I; “and can only
+humbly hope that what I have lost in strength and beauty, I may have
+gained in wisdom. Come what will, it shall not be my fault if I ever
+again lose the home I prized so lightly, regretted so deeply, and have
+regained so wonderfully.”
+
+And, full of happy thoughts and good resolutions, I fell into the most
+peaceful, refreshing sleep I had known for years.
+
+There is but little more to tell. My mistress and I have never parted
+since, though I do not live now in that home of which I have told you,
+and to which I was so much attached. I followed my dear mistress to a
+new home; but the fields there were quite as green, and the sunshine
+was just as bright, and the air was just as pure, and I soon learned
+to love it quite as well as the place which I had left; and there I
+have grown old and gray and staid, and I cannot do much work now; but
+I go out every day with a group of merry, happy, bright children, and
+sometimes one and sometimes another rides upon my back, and sometimes
+two panniers are thrown across my shoulders, and then, to judge by the
+joyous shouts and laughter, there must be several little folks all
+taking their ride together; and Neddy is a general favourite, and there
+is always some pleasant treat in store for the old donkey. No heavier
+whip ever falls upon his sides than a bunch of wild-flowers; and so
+well he loves those children that a daisy chain is bridle enough to
+guide him where they will.
+
+And his dear mistress, she is growing older too; but to Neddy she is
+still the same. He cannot see gray hairs, or graver brow; he only hears
+the well-remembered voice, the endearing tones of kindness, the gentle
+touch of that loving hand. She says Neddy shall never leave her; that
+while she lives he shall never want a home; and that, dying, she will
+commit him to her children’s care.
+
+
+THE END.
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78484 ***