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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 *** |