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Title: The adventures of a donkey

Author: Arabella Argus


        
Release date: July 17, 2026 [eBook #79114]

Language: English

Original publication: London: William Darton, Jun., 1815

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/79114

Credits: Fay Dunn and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)


*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ADVENTURES OF A DONKEY ***




  THE ADVENTURES OF A DONKEY.




[Illustration: THE ADVENTURES OF A DONKEY.

{Showing a donkey ‘cuddling’ a young donkey under her neck.}

    _Poor little foal of an oppreſsed race!
    I love the languid patience of thy face:
    And oft with gentle hand I give thee bread,
    And clap thy ragged coat and pat thy head._
]




  THE
  ADVENTURES
  OF
  A DONKEY.


  BY
  ARABELLA ARGUS,
  _Author of “THE JUVENILE SPECTATOR_.”


  LONDON:
  PRINTED BY AND FOR WILLIAM DARTON, JUN.
  58, HOLBORN HILL.

  1815.




THE ADVENTURES OF A DONKEY.

  “Poor little foal of an oppressed race!
  “I love the languid patience of thy face:
  “And oft with gentle hand I give thee bread,
  “And clap thy ragged coat, and pat thy head.”
                                         COLERIDGE.


_Prefatory Address._

Though the services of my species are no longer of that character which
distinguished them in former ages, I presume to think the biography of
an Ass, may yet, be worthy of publication. Pride of ancestry, a usual
weakness amongst Bipeds, will I trust, be forgiven in creatures doomed
(even in their most fortunate estate) to bear the taunts and insults
of the _rational_ part of the creation. If we refer to antiquity, it
must be allowed the record is every way consoling to our feelings
as a class; and though the comparative happiness of any animal at
distinct periods is of little moment to his present content, it cannot
be denied, that there is something satisfactory in reflecting on the
respectability of our progenitors. Thus I, an Ass of the Eighteenth
century obtrude my history on the public, and while I avoid the
arrogance of claiming particular merit on the score of pedigree, I
honestly confess, there have been moments in my life, when the memory
of my descent, has proved highly congenial to my feelings. Naturalists,
(as I believe those learned persons are called who describe the genus
and character of animals,) have done us justice as a species. Mine, as
a domestic sketch will bear none of those features of authorship which
embrace deep research, and elaborate disquisitions. I present for your
patronage, the life and adventures of a home-bred Donkey, and trusting
to the liberality of an enlightened juvenile public, remain their
respectful and obedient Servant

                                                   Jemmy Donkey.




CHAP. I.


“Sincerity,” is my motto, I am therefore compelled to begin, by
declaring that the early seeds of vanity were sown in my breast by the
praises of a doating mother. I was scarcely ten months old, when I
overheard my mama repeating to my papa, all the handsome things farmer
Howel had said of me. I now recollect her voice faultered as she closed
her recital, and conclude she anticipated our certain separation. For
myself, I was so elated with the words, “He is a remarkably handsome
Donkey,” &c. &c. that I took no account of the price set upon my head,
but gamboled from morn till night, and while my parents pursued their
accustomed labours, remained a stranger to the cares inseparable from
servitude.

Description would fail me, were I to attempt to pourtray the attachment
_our_ mothers feel for their offspring. I well remember exciting the
alarm of my mama one evening.

I had pursued some Ducks into a barn and was enjoying the fright I
occasioned, when her well-known voice echoed through the meadow. I fled
at the summons, and to this day have not forgotten the tender chidings
and affectionate caresses she bestowed upon me as her fears subsided.
Farmer Howel, though a humane man, was sedulously attentive to his
own interest; thus, in the absence of my parents I found myself an
object of some moment to his visitors. Modesty induces me to omit the
flattering comments which occasionally reached my ears. Whether this
organ in our species, from its size, is more exposed to the admission
of vanity, I presume not to decide, it is sufficient to say, _I_
listened with delight, and retained _all_ I heard.

Various opinions were passed upon my capacity. One thought it would
be a pity, to harness me--another recommended taking me to Tunbridge,
where there could be no doubt of my selling well--a third declared a
private family where there were children, would be the most profitable
plan.

The farmer seemed pleased with this last suggestion, and I suppose
believed he knew a likely purchaser, for I was released from further
scrutiny and again scampered at liberty. I ought to blush while I
add, that I buried these consultations in my own bosom, and if this
concealment ultimately spared my parents some unnecessary pangs, it
must be confessed my _motives_ were highly reprehensible.

Ambition however had pervaded my every feeling; I had thrust my head
through an aperture in some old pailings one day, and was snuffing
the air in listless vacancy, when a Donkey smartly caparisoned (and
on which sat a beautiful young lady) came trotting down the road.
“O happy Ass,” sighed I, “Shall I ever be so blessed?” To add to my
delight, a footman on horseback followed; “here” said I exultingly,
“here is a triumph for us, the horse our imperious enemy, in attendance
on an Ass!” Sleep fled my eyes that night--white leather bridles,
stuffed saddles, and handsome young ladies haunted my imagination. I
dare say I was very troublesome, for my father complained that I kicked
the straw about and was remarkably restless.

All that the farmer and his friends had said recurred to my memory, and
though I could not decide which proposition best pleased me, the idea
of change was in itself enchanting, and I longed for the moment that
was to effect this wish of my heart. Alas! it arrived too soon, though
I did not immediately discern my misfortune.

My readers may have felt the inconvenience of a tight shoe, but they
can have no conception of what _we_ suffer under the hands of _our_
shoemakers: suffice it to say, I was shoed according to the usage of
our genus, and like other thoughtless animals, soon forgot my pain,
in the novelty of these new appendages; I have since learned, that
pride is in most instances attended with pain. I dare not contradict
the remark, having some reason in my person for believing it true.
Yet I know you will all smile at the little whims I assumed on this
important epoch in my life.

In the first place, the addition to my height seemed immense, I
actually lowered my head as I entered or issued from our stable;
my poor mother laughed at me sometimes and at others would sigh
prophetically; but my chief pleasure consisted in kicking up the dust,
and making all the noise I could with my shoes. The farmer and his
wife were highly amused with my freaks. I had received two or three
handsful of hay from them upon different occasions, and attributing
these kindnesses to my powers of entertainment, I ventured to intrude
on forbidden ground, scampered into the paved court, and finding a pail
of warm milk standing invitingly in my way, had nearly drank the whole
when the dairy maid approached. Conceive my amazement when this virago
fell upon me, and not content with the stripes she inflicted with a
clothes-prop, threw a large stone after me; fortunately I escaped
from her cruelty, but not without adding to my crime by kicking over
the pail in my flight. I hope I am not injudicious in expressing my
gratitude for that texture of skin which makes us less susceptible to
pain.

I persuade myself, _rational_ animals will not take advantage of a
confession of this sort, nor indeed does my present experience lead me
to question their knowledge of what we _can_ bear.

But to proceed, whether the indignity I had suffered being the first of
the kind, or as the spite of a female was more particularly wounding,
I know not. I looked anxiously for the return of my parents, and no
sooner did they arrive than I hastened to unburthen my grief. My mama
listened dispassionately.

“You did wrong Jemmy,” said she, “the milk was the property of our
master, and intended for the use of his family.”

“How was I to guess that?” said I. “Besides it looked so nice and
tasted so sweet. And pray did not the farmer sell your milk? How many
shillings have I seen paid for it? Nay I heard Mrs. Howel say her
little boy’s life was saved by drinking Asses’ milk.”

“All this may be true Jemmy,” replied my mother, “but it does not
lessen your fault. In the first place, nature has kindly bestowed upon
us a palate suited to our stations in life; delicacy of appetite would
be a grievous misfortune to animals invariably left to provide for
themselves. This freedom however, by no means authorizes indiscriminate
depredations on our part; happiness consists in being contented with
our lot; and while the Ass can browse in the fertile meadow, and slake
her thirst from the neighbouring stream, rest assured she enjoys more
real comforts than thousands of her species.”

“Grass and water!” said I, tossing my head disdainfully. “Why every
Donkey gets these; why my dear mamma, I saw a beautiful Ass with a
smart saddle and white leather bridle, the other day, do you think he
lives upon such mean fare?”

“Ah! Jemmy, Jemmy,” sighed my mother, “you are a stranger to the
Donkey world,--that well-dressed beau who has excited your childish
envy, would most probably claim our compassion did we know his private
history. ‘All is not gold that glitters’ child, fine trappings dazzle
the ignorant and inexperienced; I am afraid you will too soon be placed
in a situation to judge for yourself; may honesty actuate you on all
occasions; endeavour to please your employers, and recollect that
docility is not only valuable in itself, but highly conducive to your
happiness as an Ass.”

There must be something intoxicating in the feelings of youth; though
I listened to my mama with all possible deference, and thought her
sentiments wise and just, it is certain they made no lasting impression
on my mind. The very next day saw me guilty of a trespass. A can of
ale was placed within a hedge for the farmer’s men, then getting in
the hay; my quick scent drew me thither, I cannot say the smell was
fragrant, but I thought there could be no hazard in tasting it,--I did
so and shuddered, took a second taste and liked it better,--again I
turned to the can and drank heartily, when a voice vociferated from
a distance, and in the next moment a stick was hurled at me. Less
fortunate than formerly, I sustained an injury in my leg, and under
the influence of pain began capering about. This agitation produced a
confusion in my head, resembling as I should imagine the feelings of
an intoxicated _rational_ animal: if my conjecture is right, surely
this vice is every way degrading, for I remember, I became an object of
ridicule to the farmer’s men, who stood laughing at my antics, while
two or three Donkeys of my acquaintance actually shunned me for some
days. Nor dared I complain of my broken shin least my parents should
interrogate me respecting the accident which had caused it. I am afraid
I shall appear a very faulty Donkey in the eyes of my readers, an
anticipation that would deeply wound my sensibility, did I not firmly
believe, that many frolics of the enlightened and educated biped,
which excite a smile during their “acting time,” if delineated fairly
would appear equally unjustifiable. In truth I shall have occasion to
contrast our errors ere I close my history.

Months rolled on, during which I was doomed to hear myself reviled as
a most mischievous animal, an arrant thief, &c. &c. I hung my head
and looked silly at first; chance however initiated me into the art
of expressing my indignation. Balaam a very sagacious old friend of
my father’s, being compelled to resist the brutality of some boys
one evening, I observed that his countenance acquired considerable
fierceness as he exhibited his teeth and brayed loudly. Thinks I
to myself, “This shall be my plan, I will no longer bear insult
tamely.” Alas! the presumption of ignorance! An opportunity soon
presented itself--“Here comes thieving Jemmy,” said the dairy maid
of farmer Howel, calling the carter to drive me into the meadow. I
felt indignant, and facing them boldly, grinned (as I thought) most
formidably, braying at the same time with all my might. Instead of
alarming my enemies, my efforts excited their derision, calling forth
peals of laughter at my expense. If all imitators were thus humbled
in their first attempts, I am persuaded mimicry would cease to be a
prevalent foible amongst Asses. Observe, I do not deny the propriety,
the almost necessity that a Donkey like a man, should entertain a
just sense of his prerogatives; it is the folly of assuming these
privileges prematurely that I condemn. Politeness may induce _some_
animals to overlook this precocity in _their_ species; with us it is
quite otherwise, the natural simplicity of our characters is such,
that though man should omit to wound us, our own class are vigilant in
reproving the most trivial affectation in the young.

“Poor giddy thing,” said old Balaam as I retreated from the scene of my
disgrace. “Come here child! So you were really so weak as to imagine
you could frighten those people by your puerile braying!”

“Why,” said I poutingly, “I have seen you do the same.”

“True, but I am of an age to claim respect,” replied Balaam, “added
to which, my services entitle me to some consideration. You should
endeavour to conciliate esteem; let me tell you Jemmy, you will lead
a sad life, if you set out with these false notions of your own
consequence; you must learn to bear and forbear, and above all things
avoid the folly of aping your elders.”

Though Balaam’s wisdom was proverbial in our family, there was a
sternness in his manner which frightened rather than convinced his
auditors; nay, I am tempted to add, that to his mistaken asperity on
numberless occasions, I attribute some of my subsequent indiscretions.

“What! if we are born to labour,” would I exclaim mentally, “I see men
and women return from their daily toil cheerful and happy, and may not
an Ass perform his appointed task and retain his natural vivacity? When
_I_ get a place, he shall see I know how to conduct myself.”

As these soliloquies occurred, I always found my thoughts reverting to
the smart saddle and bridle of a certain Donkey. “And when _I_ am so
dressed,” would I say, “Old Balaam shall see me, I will trot down the
green lane and shew him my finery.”

Now nothing could be more like an Ass, than this resolution of mine,
but I must not anticipate. I was surprised one morning, by farmer
Howel’s presenting a sieve of corn for my acceptance, and hastening to
avail myself of this luxurious treat, was for some minutes unconscious
of the snare into which I had fallen. A rope, a common rope was passed
round my neck, the sieve withdrawn, and in a few minutes I was led
out of the meadow. It was in vain I brayed and called upon my mother,
she was from home, and the carter my old enemy was little disposed to
attend to my sorrow. I recollected my mother’s advice, “that docility
was an amiable trait in a Donkey,” and endeavoured to accommodate my
feelings to my situation. The journey seemed tedious to my companion,
who frequently lashed me with the rope in order to quicken my pace.
At length we stopped at a noble looking mansion; I was ushered into
an extensive field of well-grown grass, and, released from my ignoble
bondage, for a moment forgot I was far distant from my parents.




CHAP. II.

_First Impressions._


This memorable event took place in the eighteenth month of my
existence: the promptness with which my removal was accomplished, left
me totally ignorant of my future destiny, yet ere the evening closed
I experienced an attention which bore some promise of kindness. A fat
red faced woman (whom my gratitude transformed into a goddess) threw
an apron full of cabbage leaves before me, I ate a hearty supper, and
fatigued with my journey looked around for a shelter for the night; a
building almost equal to farmer Howel’s house, had already received
two or three horses, I tried the door, it was locked, nor would my
prejudices or courage have led me voluntarily to expose myself to
insult and contempt, could I have found access. No! it was one of those
efforts suggested by despair in which reason yields to circumstances,
Old Balaam’s sombre warnings glanced across my mind. “Alas!” thought
I, “to conciliate esteem where no consideration is awarded appears
enigmatical to me;” and my eyes were suffused with tears as I
recollected the half-tiled home of my parents. “They will think of
their poor Jemmy to night, would I were again in their stable though
I never more tasted a cabbage leaf.” It was not easy to my donkey
capacity, to reconcile the contradiction of providing a good supper for
an animal, and leaving it without a shelter for the night. The neglect
of my owners roused me to exertion; forcing my way through a hedge, I
wandered near the house, till espying a door open I ventured in, it
was a small building and by the light of the moon, I discovered it to
be a brewhouse. Our olfactory nerves are very delicate; thus, though
one of my senses was somewhat offended by the smell of the place,
necessity compelled me to submit to the inconvenience. You may smile
at the idea of a Donkey’s dream, and would perhaps call me a downright
Ass if I related mine on the night in question; to avoid the imputation
of weakness I desist, though I am convinced a two-legged author would
mould my dream into a most interesting episode. Well, morning arrived,
and with it a full sense of my situation. On first opening my eyes, I
stood in profound amazement not exactly recollecting where I was: no
sooner had memory recalled the incidents of the preceding day, than
that sagacity which even Donkeys partially share, told me, I was not in
my proper abode--to effect a retreat without discovery was desirable.
I was rejoicing in my adroitness, when a gentleman in a scarlet jacket
ran after me and before I could gain the field half a dozen pebbles
were levelled at me.

“Leave the Donkey alone Robert,” said the fat Lady, my cabbage-leaf
friend. And advancing towards me she added, “poor Jemmy, did we forget
to open the shed for you last night, poor fellow I’ll take care it
shan’t happen again.”

I brayed in my most melodious style hoping it would be understood as
an expression of gratitude, I dont know that Mrs. Bond penetrated my
meaning, but her uniform kindness leads me to believe, there _are_
persons in the world who appreciate and comprehend the feelings of a
Donkey.

How often have I listened to the praises bestowed upon horses and dogs!
How many records of their sagacity have reached my long ears! Alas! my
vanity does not help me to one anecdote, one incident, in which our
talents natural or acquired are favourably exhibited; yet in attachment
to our masters and that faithfulness of memory so highly prized in
the animals I quote, in these essential qualifications I _think_ we
stand nearly equal. It cannot be, our rough exterior that places us
beneath notice; for as far as I can judge, beauty is not the exclusive
possession of any particular class of animals.

But to proceed; I had sighed for a change in my mode of life, yet
content was a stranger to my bosom. The voice of my parents no longer
gladdened my heart, if my food was more sumptuous, there wanted
that social intercourse, that lively chit-chat to which I had been
accustomed. The days seemed grievously irksome, and though Mrs.
Bond, had politely shewn me my lodging apartment, it was impossible
for a Donkey of my disposition to avoid some portion of ennui in
a seclusion so unbroken. I began to wish for some employment, now
first discovering old Balaam’s maxim to be just, “that idleness is
fatiguing.” An unusual depression had seized my spirits one afternoon,
when perceiving my good friend Mrs. Bond, I ran towards her.

“Ah poor fellow,” said she, “I can’t stop to talk to you now, we are
all in a pucker, and _you_ will have enough to do when the pet comes.”

“What does she mean?” said I to myself. “I never heard of such an
animal.”

While reflecting on the import of this speech, a travelling chaise with
four horses turned into the court yard: a number of men-servants ran to
and fro, and amongst others the man in the scarlet jacket, whom I now
discovered to be a groom. Amused by the bustle I stood looking over a
gate, when a shrill squeaking voice exclaimed, “Robert! Robert! shew me
my Donkey, I say Robert I want my Donkey.”

“He’s in the field Master Frederick,” replied the groom. “I can’t go
with you now Sir, if you’ll wait till I’ve done in the stable I’ll give
you a ride.”

“But I wont wait, I will see him directly,” resumed the young
gentleman, “leave the horses and come along with me.”

“What leave my horses Sir after such a fag! No no Master Fredy, if you
can’t wait I can’t help it, only take care, you don’t worry the Donkey,
he’s a proper vicious one I promise you.”

I concluded from the sketch the groom had thought proper to give
respecting me, that my young master would avoid my presence; deeply
wounded that the prejudice of this man should so far mislead him, I
assumed a cheerfulness foreign to my feelings, and displaying my figure
to the greatest advantage, endeavoured to engage the notice of Master
Frederick by a thousand graceful movements; my exertions were unheeded,
the young gentleman retiring at the summons of a man-servant. “We are
indeed an unfortunate race,” sighed I, “traduced by tongues that know
us not, yet will be the chroniclers of our doings. I clearly perceive
an Assinine existence is synonymous with misery.”

These cogitations of your humble servant may with justice be traced
to my early education. Balaam had impressed me with those gloomy
anticipations which mar our present enjoyments. Ah! how different were
the sentiments of my dear mother, but I cannot even at this distance
of time speak of her without the liveliest emotion. I was regaling on
some potatoe parings, and musing on my fate, when Robert introduced my
young master into the field; resolved on refuting the representation of
my enemy, I approached Master Frederick with the utmost deference; as
I drew near he retreated, till with a terrific scream he hid himself
behind Robert. What was my mortification to find _I_ who had been
called a handsome Donkey, was an object of alarm to my owner! Now as
you all know, looking-glasses make no part of _our_ domestic furniture,
but we supply this deficiency by never drinking but from the clearest
water within our reach. It is therefore unnecessary to add, that like
yourselves we regard our reflected likeness with some little degree of
partiality; if _we_ exceed the bounds of prudence in the indulgence,
remember I am speaking of Asses, and that it would be unreasonable to
expect in an Ass, more than belongs to him as an Ass. But I declare no
stream in which I ever saw myself had impressed me with the belief;
that my face or figure was calculated to frighten any person.

Overcome by disappointment I continued to gaze mournfully upon my
master. The groom who had laughed heartily at Frederick, now coaxed me,
patted my sides, and persuaded the child to mount my back.

“I wont I tell you,” exclaimed the child “he will throw me off, I know
he will.”

“Let me hold you on,” replied, Robert, throwing a rope round my neck.
After many assurances the little gentleman was mounted. I cannot say I
felt quite easy; his weight was trifling, but this was my debut as a
beast of burden, and I somehow feared it would not prove auspicious.

Two or three quiet walks across the field inspired my young Nimrod with
courage.

“Make him trot Robert,” said he. I instantly fell into the most
agile motion. O sad mischance; Robert missed his hold, and my rider
fell to the ground! The screams of Frederick brought Mrs. Bond to his
assistance. Robert declared the young gentleman was not hurt, and
endeavoured to pacify him.

“I will go and tell mama you laughed at me when I tumbled off that ugly
Donkey,” said Frederick, pushing the groom with all his strength.

“O! fie Master Fredy, why I thought you was more of a man, than to cry
at a fall upon the grass,” said Mrs. Bond.

“Get me a whip Robert, I will beat the Donkey,” resumed Frederick.

“No, Sir, I shall do no such thing,” retorted Robert. “The Donkey
carried you as well as possible, it was my fault in letting him slip
from my hold.”

“Then I wish I had the whip, I would give you a good lashing, that I
would.”

“Would you indeed,” laughed Robert, “I should like to try you.”

Enraged at the mirth of the groom, the young gentleman made his escape.

“Why he’s worse than ever,” said Mrs. Bond, “it is quite surprising to
me, that such good people as my master and mistress are, should spoil
their child so foolishly.”

“A puny snivelling little pet,” rejoined Robert, “I pity Jemmy; sure
enough he’ll have a fine time of it.”

“So then I am the servant of that animal called a pet,” thought I, and
I reverted to all the creatures I had seen of the same size and genus.
Farmer Howel had children, but to me they appeared quite a different
description of animal. Neither pouting nor fretfulness had ever fallen
under my observation. And as Master Frederick seemed to possess
many comforts, I concluded the word _pet_ to imply a discontented
self-willed animal, and grieved to find myself the slave of such a
tyrant.

It was remarkable, that Robert who had hitherto taken pleasure in
teazing me, from the moment of my master’s arrival adopted a distinct
line of conduct. It seems to me, that mere thoughtlessness will at
times propel a species of cruelty, void of malice. A good marksman
(to shew his skill) will shy a stone at us with fatal accuracy. I can
assure these hurlers, we do not doubt their capability, but protest
against the honour of being used as targets.

If I suffered individually at this period, I am willing to allow my
situation afforded me views of life highly edifying to an inexperienced
Donkey. I saw horses curried and dressed with the nicest care, and I
beheld them lashed and beaten on the most trivial occasions. Though a
stranger to corporeal suffering, my sympathy was powerfully awakened
by these spectacles. “Ah! what shall I be in the hands of an angry
master!” thought I; nor could I exactly ascertain the foibles which
subjected them to this treatment. Time has enlightened me on this
subject, and I now boldly declare beasts of burden are as liable to
suffer from the _temper_ of their masters as their own fallibility.

The parents of my young master deserved the elogium Mrs. Bond had
bestowed upon them, they were in themselves amiable, and would
frequently reprove the impatience of Frederick, but alas! this spoiled
boy had been too long habituated to indulgences to submit to controul.
His natural timidity increased my difficulties, if kept a walking pace,
I was “a stupid brute,” if I ambled gaily, “a mischievous creature.”
I bore his revilings calmly for some time, yet it was grievously
humiliating that _all_ my efforts should be so misconstrued; and in
truth, my donkey pride was offended, that a saddle and bridle had not
been provided for me. Under the impulse of this feeling, I one morning
contrived to shift the green baize substitute for a saddle, and gently
laid my master on his back; again Robert was my advocate, and by
proposing the immediate purchase of the necessary trappings appeased
the tears of Frederick.

Mrs. Fenton assenting to the expenditure, I waited the hour of
equipment with all the little anxieties of pride, and perhaps some
of my readers will understand my disappointment, when I declare,
nothing could be more contrary to my expectations than the dress
Robert purchased. A common saddle and dark leather bridle for a
Donkey whose imagination had been inflated by a glimpse of the most
elegant Ass in the kingdom! This disparagement was not to be borne, I
looked contemptuously on the groom, and in my own mind wondered such
a commission should have been left to his taste. It is impossible for
an Ass to guess how bipeds are affected by the stupidity or bad taste
of their dress-makers, &c. &c. I only know, I shrugged my shoulders
with scorn, and would scarcely submit to be dressed. Robert conquered
at last, and I was decorated in my new habiliments: what my sensations
were at that time I cannot describe. In conforming to the fashions of
the age, my readers enjoy a thousand advantages which a _solitary_
Donkey must not hope to experience. I believe fashion would cease to
be of consequence altogether did not emulation keep it alive. Now I
(who had sighed to appear with all the splendour of a domesticated
Ass) received these honours at a period when my talents and general
character were totally obscured; thus the mere tinsel of ornament lost
its most attractive charm, the power of exciting admiration, for that
Master Frederick or any of the family would descern my merits or do
justice to my personal beauties was what I dared not anticipate.

It must be allowed fortune jumbled an odd variety my juvenile path,
but perhaps I err, and it is rather the singularity of my taste, which
tempts me to lay these memoirs before the public, than any peculiar
hardship in my fate. At all events I am a truth-telling Donkey, and
writing from the heart rather than the head, I promise to be as
succinct in my subsequent history as in these my first impressions.




CHAP. III.

_A New Master._


Two months of incessant drudgery had completely taught me to bear the
restraint of a saddle, when Master Frederick on a sudden declined my
services. I thought myself happy in losing his patronage, and was
looking forward to a little ease, when Mrs. Fenton inquired if I could
not be made serviceable, and proposed harnessing me to a donkey cart:
Robert replying in the affirmative, I was accordingly appointed to
the honour of drawing my mistress about the grounds. The change was
agreeable, and though somewhat above my strength, I acquitted myself to
the satisfaction of Mrs. Fenton. But it was in vain I looked for the
delicate white bridle, that object of my ambition. “Surely” thought
I, “a lady will never bear to handle such common reins, why even the
pet, complained that they stained his gloves!” My mistress however,
continued to employ and commend me without thinking it necessary to
alter my dress. If the humanity of Mrs. Fenton had not interfered, my
whimsical young master would gladly have added to my toil in these
excursions, by taking a seat by her side.

“No my dear Fred, I cannot allow you to ride with me, it would be too
much for the poor Donkey;” would she say, “ask Robert to teach you to
drive, and you shall take an airing before breakfast.”

Alas! this was putting new arms into the hands of an enemy. Robert
undertook the office with a sullenness for which I could not then
account, but during the process I gained an insight into the character
of my master, which in a degree justified the repugnance of the groom.

In proportion as the feeble mind of this boy rendered him contemptible
to those about him, his arrogance increased; every failure to which his
pusillanimity exposed him, was revenged on those persons he considered
his inferiors. Of course the _animal_ who could not express himself
orally, received his portion of ill usage. If Robert was called “fool,
rascal, &c. &c.” my sides felt the effects of master Frederick’s
temper; fortunately the strength of this young tyrant was not that
of a Hercules, or my situation had been miserable indeed. About this
period a most agreeable change took place in our family, a young
lady and gentlemen relatives of Mrs. Fenton made us a visit. Charles
Fairfax was in his twelfth year, his sister Marianne a year younger;
their open good humoured countenances and lively spirits formed a
striking contrast to the peevish features of my master, but I was not
so credulous as to decide on their characters from an index of this
nature. No! it was their subsequent conduct which then claimed my
gratitude, and enables me at this moment to speak of them with pleasure.

Nothing could exceed their astonishment when Master Frederick one
morning thought fit to scold the groom, because he had locked the
stable door, and he could not get my saddle exactly when he wanted it.

“You great fool you, you are always doing wrong,” said he, “get me the
saddle directly; here my cousins have been waiting this hour. I know
papa would be very angry if he knew you took the horses such a long
airing, and I’ll tell him when we go to breakfast.”

“I am not your servant, Sir,” replied Robert, “nor I dont know who
would have any thing to do with you that knew you.”

“Hold your tongue, and do as you are bid,” resumed the little tyrant.

“Pray Sir do _you_ wish to ride the Donkey this morning?” said Robert,
bowing to Master Fairfax.

“Not particularly,” replied Charles.

“Then Sir, if it is no disappointment to you, I will not give Master
Fredy the saddle till I have seen my master, he would not suffer his
servants to be treated as they are, if he knew it, but I will tell him
my mind, if I lose my place.”

“To be sure you think yourself of great consequence Mr. Bob, but I know
something, and I’m determined I’ll tell, so you had better give me the
saddle.”

“You get no saddle from me Sir,” retorted Robert, “but I think, when
_I_ tell all I know, somebody will sing to another tune.”

Marianne Fairfax had very properly retreated from this altercation,
calling her brother to look at a brood of chickens. I gladly pursued
their steps, delighted to be near children whose appearance impressed
me in their favour.

“I declare Marianne I never heard any this like Frederick,” said
Charles, “I hope he will not expect me to take his part, the groom has
treated him as he deserves.”

“O he was always a pet,” replied Marianne, “but pray look at these
pretty creatures, did you ever see such a fine brood?”

Charles was admiring the chicks, when Frederick siezing my tail caused
me to start, and in avoiding him I accidentally kicked one of the
little flutterers. Marianne ran to the spot, and taking up the chick,
examined it tenderly; I listened with much anxiety, and was delighted
to hear her say, its limbs were not broken. My tranquillity was of
short date, a heavy stroke on my back nearly knocked me down.

“What are you about Frederick?” said Charles, wresting a spade from the
hands of my master.

“Why he deserves a good drubbing,” retorted Frederick, “he might have
killed the chicken.”

“And you might have killed the Donkey, had the blow fallen on his head.”

“Well it is my own if I had Sir, and that spade is mine,” said he,
endeavouring to regain the murderous weapon,--“and this field is mine,
it is very odd I mayn’t do as I please in my own house.”

“I dont call any of these things yours,” said Charles, “and if they
were, you would have no right to act as you were doing.”

“O to be sure you are very good,” sneered my master, “but I say the
Donkey ought to be thrashed, and he shall too.”

“Not while I am here to prevent it,” continued Charles restraining the
arm of Frederick; “but if you pull my hair Frederick, I shall be forced
to give you a thrashing, so I warn you in time.”

Marianne interposed, and begged her brother would leave him to himself,
and take a walk with her in the shrubbery. Charles marched off with the
spade on his shoulder: this act in itself one of humane courage, roused
the anger of my vindictive tyrant, who waiting till my friends were out
of sight, attacked me again. As I have before observed, his powers did
not keep pace with his intentions; I was more worried than injured by
his malice, but thinking a little braying could do no harm and might
bring my champion to my aid, I uttered two or three sonorous notes, and
as I expected so it happened. In an instant Charles Fairfax leaped over
a gate, and approaching Frederick exclaimed,

“Touch the Donkey again, and I will either give you a drubbing, or
carry you to your father.”

“Do if you dare, I should like to see you carry me indeed! I dare say
you think yourself a fine fellow because you have been two years at a
public school, but who cares for you? not I, I assure you.”

“It would be difficult to say what you do care for except indulging
your own humours,” replied Charles. “Believe me Fred, I will not
interfere with these so long as they are confined to yourself, but I
should be ashamed to stand by and see you ill use a dumb animal, merely
because the groom has offended you.”

“That’s right,” retorted Frederick, “I’ll get Mr. Bob a good rowing;”
and running off, he left my champion smiling at the vaunting cowardice
of my silly master.

Though I do not profess to be a scientific Ass--nor in the least
addicted to philosophical inquiry, there are certain estimates that
a merely observing _animal_ will make, and by _chance_ stumble on
probabilities. Thus I, a beast of burden declare, that our fatigue
is increased or ameliorated by the _temper_ of those we carry (of
course this remark applies only to our services à la cheval); I
persuade myself this is not a Donkey chimera, but a truth that would
be generally acknowledged were _we_ in the habit of submitting _our_
opinions to the public. There is something elastic in good humour,
it gives a buoyancy to the frame similar to what it imparts to the
countenance; while sullenness, passion, or any other deformity of the
mind, by its uncertainties diminishes the zeal of the employed, and
makes _that_ a task which might be made a pleasure. Charles Fairfax
was more robust in appearance than my master, yet, when he did me the
honour of mounting my back I was all agility, anxious to display my
best paces and this without a touch from the whip.

But to return to the fracas I witnessed: I was beginning to regret
that the habits of a Donkey precluded him from knowing what occurs
within doors, and that in consequence I should not hear how the cousins
adjusted their difference, when Mrs. Bond entered the field with some
provender for your humble servant, and was instantly joined by Robert.

“I thought you’d get your warning,” said Mrs. Bond, addressing the
groom, “but I find Master Fairfax has done some good for us all I hope.”

“Good! why he’s the finest fellow I ever saw: yes, little sniveller
tried his worst, but master actually coloured for shame when young
Fairfax spoke up; would you believe it, the spiteful monkey asked his
father if he allowed the Donkey to be fed with oats? You know master
is a little particular about stable expenses. I never gave the Donkey
one oat since he came from the farmer’s,” said I, ‘but you gave me some
for him which was just as bad,’ said young mischief; “so then I up and
told, that master Frederick was always in the stables taking the oats,
that I was afraid he would get a kick some day or other, and that for
peace and quietness’ sake I gave him a few oats one morning and never
but once. I wish you’d seen young Fairfax when I said this, you never
saw such a scornful look as he gave our young one.”

“And what did mistress say?” asked Mrs. Bond. “Why she said I ought to
leave the saddle where Master Fenton could find it, as it was a great
disappointment to the child, when he got up easily on purpose to ride
his Donkey and was prevented by my carelessness. I said he could not
put the saddle on if I left it out, and if it was not well braced he
might get a fall. My master said I was right, and seemed satisfied
enough, but the pet thought he’d get me into a scrape yet, so he
begins again with ‘Ah! Mr. Bob, with all your impudence you can’t deny
that you was out two hours this morning though Papa said an hour was
enough.’ Now there was no standing this from a child, so I told master
that I’d borne a great deal of bad language from his son, and that I
had resolved to tell him of his swearing, but if I was to be called to
account by a baby I would leave my place.

“‘Let him go Papa, send him away to-day,’ said Frederick. ‘No! said
master, I’m afraid you have been a very bad boy Fred.’ Mistress looked
vexed and asked where I had taken the horses that morning. I told her
to the farmer’s by my master’s orders. ‘Very true Robert, I had forgot
that I told you to do so’ said master. ‘Well then’ said my mistress
‘only take care and leave the Donkey ready every morning by eight
o’clock Robert.’ ‘Will that make you happy my love?’ said she hugging
the young rascal. ‘I dont know,’ sobbed little squeaky. Master Fairfax,
burst out a laughing, ‘well done Fred, that’s honest’ says he, ‘for I
dont think the Donkey is a greater favourite with you than Robert.’

“‘O yes he’s very fond of his Donkey Charles,’ said mistress, ‘and
will soon ride like a little man.’

“‘I hope Fred will never think of making me one of his favorites then,’
replies young Fairfax, ‘for I should be sorry to receive such proofs of
his regard as he bestows on his Donkey.’

“‘I should like to know what business you have with me or my Donkey
Sir?’ said Frederick, ‘I tell you it is my own and I will beat him and
kick him whenever I please.’

“Master grew quite angry at this, called Frederick a ‘little savage,’
and declared he would send the Donkey to the farmer’s, for he had been
worried to death by the frights and whims of his son ever since they
came to the Hall.

“‘It is such an ugly vicious beast,’ said Fredy. ‘Robert said it was,
he knows he did the very first night we came here.’

“So then I said, the Donkey was a very fine one, and though I had
warned him not to ride him but when I was by, it was because I knew the
beast wanted training like all other animals, but it was not by ill
using him as Master Fredy did, that the Donkey would ever be made a
good carrying one.

“‘You have said enough Robert,’ said master. ‘Farmer Howel shall have
the Donkey again; no child of mine shall use any animal ill. I am
afraid we have helped to spoil you Frederick, but I hope it is not too
late to save you from becoming wicked.’

“I left the room, but Thomas says, young Fairfax offered Frederick his
hand, and declared he would not have said a word about what passed in
the field, if he had not thought his cousin unjust to me. It seems the
little pet defended himself, but the other was too clever for him, and
master was so pleased with what his nephew said, specially about trying
to get me into disgrace for the very thing I had done to please him,
that he wished over and over again he had such a boy.”

It will readily be believed I was deeply interested in this discussion,
it was not so much the important figure I made in the narration, as the
conviction that intellectual animals occasionally condescend to think
of us and of our sufferings: and with that spirit of good fellowship
which leads us to forget injuries, I augured favourably of the future
conduct of my master. This was my first thought, the succeeding one
told me I must no longer call Frederick Fenton my master. And as I had
heard that Mr. Fenton was very decisive, when he made a resolution, new
hopes stole into my bosom, that I should return to the farmer’s and
again see my parents. Next morning undeceived me in this particular.
Doctor Manton, a physician, calling to see Mrs. Fenton, expressed a
wish to see Master and Miss Fairfax; they were in the garden, and my
mistress in accompanying the doctor in search of them came in contact
with me.

“Where did you get that fine Donkey,” said Mr. Manton, “I am looking
out for one, can you recommend me to any person who would serve me
well.”

“You shall have that” said my mistress “we want to get rid of him.”

The doctor made a few inquiries, and I heard myself formally consigned
to Mr. Manton. Something like a sigh escaped my bosom, it was grievous
to perceive how lightly I was estimated where I had never voluntarily
offended; while the recollection of Mrs. Bond’s many kindnesses in the
cabbage-leaf department, sensibly depressed my feelings. “I am again
launched on the world,” thought I, “and perhaps at a greater distance
from my parents, new ills may await me: custom has, in a degree,
reconciled me to my present lot; shall I have fortitude to bear a
change which may only prove a change in suffering?” The white bridle
flitted across my mind--“ah!” thinks I, “this may be the moment in
which my hopes are to be realized.”

Pardon me, my gentle readers, nor deem a Donkey a more egregious Ass,
that an object so inconsequential in your eyes should to _him_ appear
so attractive.

What is ambition, but an ardent desire to possess that which we believe
would increase our happiness? Men seek fame and hoard gold without
considering the instability of either of these possessions: yet I never
heard that the disappointments of the few, diminished the ambition of
the many.

Thus, whether it be a white leather bridle or the treasures of
Golconda, _time_ only can elucidate our mistake; and, by unveiling the
passing hour, teach us to value those which have fled for ever.




CHAP. IV.

_A Journey and its Consequences._


You will do me the justice to believe I did not quit Fenton Hall
without a sigh; I am so tenacious of being included amongst the
gourmands, that I am really scrupulous of declaring all I felt when the
blue apron of Mrs. Bond was lost to my view.

Suffice it to say, my sensibility was painfully awakened: but alas!
there is no way of describing our griefs pathetically. If I said my
tears flowed plenteously, you would laugh at the idea of a Donkey’s
tears; pallid cheeks do not rank amongst our personal beauties.

It is impossible to attempt the heroic style in the biography of an
Ass; I must descend, and in simple language tell you, my heart was
heavy, and I could not disguise it. It was some consolation to me to
perceive, that Robert seemed sorry to part with me, I rubbed my nose
gratefully against his sleeve as he threw the reins round my neck. The
doctor had mounted his horse and taken the bridle in his hands, when he
questioned Robert respecting my temper &c.

“He is as good a Donkey as can be Sir,” said Robert, “he has not had a
fair chance here, but I will answer for him where he is well used.”

The doctor vouched for the humanity with which I should be regarded
where I was going, and we issued forth.

This eulogium of the groom’s, deserved and attained due consideration
from me. “In giving me a good character to my new master, Robert has
done me all the service he could,” thought I, “yes, it must be my
constant endeavour to merit the patronage of my employer:” and like
half a thousand projectors, I was laying down a plan of conduct perfect
in theory, though its practice proved too much for donkey philosophy.

The gentle pace of the doctor, and his encouraging expressions,
beguiled a journey of five miles insomuch, that before we reached
Penrose, Mrs. Manton’s home, I found my spirits greatly revived. That
prejudice known to exist between the horse and Ass had subjected me
more than once to a contemptuous glance from my companion. I bore this
patiently, perceiving that his rudeness did not escape the notice of
my master, who was obliged to use his whip in order to make Martello
quicken his pace. I entreat you to understand, that I did not rejoice
in the stripes Martello received. No: it was my sense of the politeness
due to me as a stranger which led me to hope the Doctor’s reproof might
prove salutary.

Penrose was delightfully situated, not so spacious as Fenton Hall, but
an air of comfort was diffused through the grounds; the cattle seemed
to enjoy the most luxuriant pasturage, while the dwelling of my master
appeared a perfect picture. “Happiness must reside here,” thinks I to
myself, and in the fulness of my joy I was no sooner shewn into the
paddock than I rolled on the grass, as if to take possession of this
charming spot of earth. Imagine my confusion on discovering Martello
and an old mare eyeing me with disdain from a neighbouring enclosure;
recovering my feet, I returned their stare. I had heard Mrs. Bond say,
“A cat might look at a king: and surely an Ass might look at a horse!”
Whether my countenance has any thing very comic in it, or that my
juvenile effrontery moved their risibility I know not, they snorted
loudly, threw back their manes and galloped away.

While yet I was reflecting on the arrogance of my neighbours, the
Doctor and his son entered the paddock.

“If I thought we could get a side saddle in the village,” said Mr.
Manton, “I should like to have the Donkey completely caparisoned before
Caroline sees him.”

“Shall I go to Wilcox? perhaps he has one,” replied Mr. George
Manton--my master acquiesced, and the gay gentleman departed on his
errand.

What a palpitation I experienced during his absence! it was evident I
was the appointed servant of a lady, and a white leather bridle seemed
the natural consequence of such a distinction.

I paced the field, peeped over the gate, and regarded every approaching
passenger with fixed attention. “Hope was deferred;” George Manton
returned alone--my chagrin would have been obvious, did Donkey
physiognomy make any figure in the studies of the biped. Be that as it
may, my bosom admitted the good within my reach; the young gentleman
patted me on the head as he passed, and as I followed him plucked some
grass with which he condescended to feed me; delighted with these
attentions I continued to accompany him. The Doctor joined us; when I
had the pleasure of hearing that Wilcox would bring a saddle he thought
likely to suit in the course of an hour. I had fancied myself rather
fatigued from my journey, but this intelligence so entirely altered my
feeling I seemed equal to any effort and only longed for the arrival of
the sadler.

That blissful moment came--the saddle fitted, and oh! enchanting sight!
the “white leather bridle” at length graced my figure. Transported
with myself, I would fain have sought some liquid stream in which I
might catch a glimpse of my person; the thing was impracticable at this
juncture; and though the sun shone, and occasionally traced my shadow
accurately, there was nothing to excite one’s vanity in this sort of
reflection. It is true, I was mindful of my carriage, wore my ears
erect, and was in that happy temper of mind, which makes every thing
agreeable. I yet knew it was possible to increase my satisfaction, and
I had every disposition to make the attempt. Mr. George Manton attended
my toilet, and was pleased to express himself much to my liking.

“Poor Caroline will be delighted with her Donkey,” said he, and he
sighed; “dear girl,” he continued, “may it afford you a transient
gratification, and we will endeavour to be satisfied that our
intentions are directed to your comfort.”

“Ah! this is just what she will like,” said the Doctor examining me,
“come, George, lead him into the court, and I will persuade her to walk
on the lawn.”

George Manton took the reins and I hastened to meet my mistress; as we
turned the angle of the house, I discerned a sweet looking girl leaning
on the arm of the Doctor.

“My dear sir,” said Miss Caroline, “how kind you are! I shall be afraid
of expressing my wishes, if I am to be the occasion of so much trouble
to you;” and walking towards me, she declared I was the handsomest
Donkey she had ever seen.

“And I hope he is appointed to carry a docile girl,” smiled the Doctor,
“who will never venture to misapply terms, and call that a trouble
which is my highest gratification.” Miss Caroline pressed the hand of
the Doctor, I thought she looked sorrowful, but it was very becoming to
her for her manner was perfectly natural. Mr. George Manton proposed
her trying me immediately; my fair mistress making no objection, I had
the inexpressible delight of conveying her to a spot called Prospect
Point, at the summit of an adjacent hill. George Manton walked by my
side, occasionally applauding the steadiness of my pace and bestowing
on our species in general the most flattering commendations. “Yet the
Ass is an animal whose services are ill requited,” said my mistress.

“Cruelly so,” replied George Manton. “I declare I have often felt
disposed to interfere in their behalf, particularly in London; where
the heaviest loads are imposed on them without the least regard to
their strength, or the poor food on which they subsist.”

“I have often thought the hardy nature of the ass exposed them to
greater suffering,” resumed Miss Caroline; “we are anxious to provide
for those creatures whom nature has made less independent, while such
as can shift for themselves are liable to neglect.”

“This does not excuse us, Caroline; on the contrary it places our
characters in a most unamiable point of view. There is a want of
feeling, of common gratitude, in denying our support to the animal
that performs its duties faithfully, and as I believe few persons deny
the advantages of economy, I cannot comprehend why the services of the
humble Donkey should go unrewarded.”

“If this poor fellow could understand us,” rejoined my mistress, gently
stroking my neck, “he would know he had fallen into good hands; but the
brute creation collectively claim my compassion; there is something
shocking in the idea of a horse, a dog, or any animal, being pampered
and petted one day, and on the next ill used, if not starved.”

“The fluctuating nature of that animal, man, makes this too probable,
Caroline; as your knowledge of the world increases you will find this
instability is not confined to his dumb inferiors; power is a dangerous
weapon, and, like riches, frequently changes the character of its
possessor.”

My mistress smiling replied, “Well, George, we shall see how you use
your wealth.”

The young gentleman answered gaily, but there was a melancholy sat on
his brow which to me appeared extraordinary. The dew beginning to fall,
we turned towards home, where I left my lovely burthen and repaired to
a comfortable shed appropriated to my use.

It would be impossible to picture my individual happiness at this
period; but alas! I had drawn a false estimate of that of the Penrose
family. Miss Caroline was not the daughter of the Doctor but his
ward; the sweetness of her temper had endeared her to every member of
the family; the servants contended who should wait upon her, and it
was with deep regret I perceived she daily required more assistance;
naturally delicate, my respected mistress had taken cold after dancing,
consumptive symptoms ensued, and when I became an inhabitant of Penrose
paddock, the Doctor considered her situation hopeless. Mr. George
Manton would sometimes fancy he saw an improvement in her looks; his
father repressed these hopes, gently reminding him that the disease
under which Miss Caroline languished was frequently most flattering
when its last and more fatal symptoms were at hand.

How sweet were my labours in the service of Caroline Morden! with what
zeal I attended her pleasure, and how humane was the conduct of Mr.
George Manton! This young man, then in his nineteenth year, possessed
all that information which distinguishes the more advanced in life,
without a particle of vanity: his opinions were given with so much
deference, there was so much pliability in his temper, I think it would
have improved the most stupid Ass in the world if he had the benefit
of observing the manner, and listening to the conversation of this
excellent youth.

I freely confess my obligations to this young gentleman. The degrading
insults I received from Martello and old Bessy, a half blind mare, had
more than once roused me to anger--it might be jealousy on their part,
for my situation was certainly most enviable--but there is something in
contempt which even an Ass is disposed to resent. Straying into their
demesne one evening, I was pursued from place to place, snorted at and
treated with every indignity; it was in vain I endeavoured to repel
their attacks; fortunately Mr. George saw my distress and came to my
relief. When recovered from my fright I could scarcely help smiling at
the idea of an animal so large as the horse being so easily subdued
by man. At this moment the Doctor joined his son, and hearing of my
fracas, a conversation ensued which helped to enlighten me in this
respect.

“One wonders to see the antipathy of these animals so lively in their
domesticated state,” said George Manton; “the query to me is, whether
the Ass is a degenerated horse, or a distinct species.”

“Buffon says, the Ass is not a horse degenerated,” replied the Doctor,
“that like all other animals he has his family, his species and his
rank; his blood is pure, and although his nobility is less illustrious,
yet it is equally good and ancient with that of the horse.”

“In his wild state, the Ass becomes a formidable enemy to the horse,”
resumed Mr. George.

“Yes, they will not suffer a horse to associate with them, and should
one stray where they are feeding, they attack him with the most savage
fury, never quitting him till he appears to be quite dead. Thus, though
man by cultivation and care seems to have changed the characters of
domestic animals, I am of opinion that nature is more frequently
restrained than subdued; there will be less ferocity in the creature
that is uniformly well treated, but even the dog, that sagacious,
faithful friend, has been known to turn against his oppressor though
that oppressor was his master.”

“Then you allow the existence of temper in the brute creation, Sir?”

“Why I think it is impossible to deny it, George;” replied the Doctor,
“the schoolmaster’s rod is not more efficacious on occasion than the
whip of the horseman; and with respect to the horse, I would say, this
truly noble animal is tenacious of his rights, feels his superiority
over all other quadrupeds, and, though capable of the warmest
attachment, is at times subject to the caprices of temper.”

“I have certainly observed a degree of obstinacy, as of passion, in
the animal in question, and grieved to witness the chastisement he has
in consequence received; yet one ought not to wonder at this when we
reflect on the slight causes that rouse _us_ to irritability.”

“Poor Caroline’s favourite must be confined to the paddock,”
resumed the Doctor, “Martello is a high spirited Castilian, but
like his species will acquire humility as his services become less
distinguished.”

“The patience of the Ass, makes him valuable in my eyes,” continued Mr.
George, leaning on my back and kindly smoothing my coat.

“And what is remarkable, George,” said the Doctor, “from the moment the
Ass carries his first load, this tractability is a striking feature in
his character.”

The arrival of my mistress, who approached us leaning on the arm of her
maid, interrupted the conversation. If I could have felt angry in her
presence, this would have been the moment, for I was listening with all
my ears, and when their length is considered, it will be admitted that
few animals possess more extensive opportunity for the acquisition of
knowledge.




CHAP. V.

_Symptoms of Education._


Called to the performance of my duty, I bore Miss Morden to “Prospect
Point;” the halts made in our short journey convinced me my mistress
could ill bear the fatigue of riding. Yet the same gentleness of manner
was remarkable, the same engaging spirit of inquiry which made her so
estimable to her friends. Seated upon a camp chair, Miss Caroline asked
many questions respecting my species. I grazed at her feet in the hope
of increasing my little stock of information.

“It was the Spaniards who transported the Ass to America, Sir?” said my
mistress, addressing her guardian.

“Yes, my love,” replied Mr. Manton, “and that country seems to have
been favourable to this race of animals; they have multiplied in
amazing numbers, so much so, that in Quito the owners of the grounds
where they are bred, suffer all persons to take away as many as they
can, on paying a small acknowledgment in proportion to the number of
days their sport lasts.”

“I have read an interesting description of their manner of descending
the Andes in South America; it must be terrifying to see them slide
down such immense precipices.”

“But the sagacity they display on these occasions, by no means entitle
them to the degrading epithets so generally attached to the mention of
an Ass. When they approach these descents, they stop of themselves, and
should the rider attempt to spur them on, they continue immoveable.
They seem at this time ruminating on the danger which lies before them
and preparing for the encounter. They not only view the road, but
tremble and snort at the danger.”

“I cannot conceive how the rider keeps his seat,” said my mistress.

“He has only to sit firm on his saddle without checking the rein, for
the least motion would destroy the equilibrium of the Ass, in which
case both must inevitably perish; and indeed the posture of the animal
is favourable to his burthen in these descents--Their fore feet being
placed as though they were stopping themselves, the hind feet put
together, but a little forward; in this attitude they slide down with
the swiftness of a meteor, and their address in this rapid descent
is truly wonderful; for in their swiftest motion they follow the
different windings of the road, as if they had previously settled the
route they were to pursue.”

“I really think the animal that conveyed me safely over a pass of this
kind would ever after be entitled to my gratitude.”

“Fame, is all that the poor Ass attains,” resumed Mr. Manton. “He gains
a kind of reputation, after being long used to these journeys, but I
rather doubt that his happiness is increased by this; so true is it,
that fame, whether attached to the rational or animal creation, is but
an empty name.”

“A mere bubble,” laughed Mr. George; “the Ass, however, has certainly
risen in our estimation. Surely since the ladies have condescended to
ride them, and make them useful in drawing carriages, some of those
attentions bestowed upon the horse, are indisputably their due.”

“Unless you think with Gay, ‘an Ass should like an Ass be treated,’”
smiled the Doctor; “of course you allude to their being regularly
fed, rubbed down and washed; this is the practice at Cairo, they in
consequence grow to a large size and are occasionally sold at a high
price. In this country, on the contrary, this useful animal is much
neglected and abused. We educate the horse with the greatest care,
nothing is spared to render him beautiful, he is dressed, attended,
instructed, and exercised; while the Ass is abandoned to the brutality
of servants, or to the abuse of children. If he had not a great many
good qualities, he would not be able to bear the hard usage to which
he is daily exposed and which certainly makes him more stupid, and
indocile than he otherwise would be.”

“My dear Sir,” exclaimed my mistress, “pray do not call them all
indocile and stupid! I declare I could almost imagine my Jemmy
understood my feelings, he stops when I cough, and is the best tempered
creature in the world.”

You may be sure this remark of Miss Caroline’s met my approbation; for
all my asinine pride had been roused by the concluding observation of
the Doctor. Mr. George further tranquillized my irritated nerves.

“We do not consider, that if the horse had no existence,” resumed
my amiable champion, “the Ass, both in himself, and with regard to
us, would be the most distinguished animal in the creation--it is
comparison alone that degrades him.”

“And this ought not to offend him, did he understand us,” said my
mistress, presenting some oak leaves for my acceptance, “for it is by
comparison we draw most of our conclusions, and the Donkey must submit
to that which his master has no means of avoiding. The flesh of the Ass
is sometimes eaten I believe,” added Miss Caroline.

“Yes the Arabians take them in snares for the sake of their flesh,”
replied Mr. George; “the Romans were likewise fond of them; Pliny tells
us that the epicures preferred those of Africa to all others.”

“These creatures are very nice with regard to water,” resumed Miss
Morden, “and I observe in drinking never sink their nose like the
horse.”

“It is alleged he is afraid of the shadow of his ears; but I should
rather attribute this to his general antipathy to that element, for he
never wallows in mire or water, having a dislike to wetting his feet,
and will turn out of his road to avoid a puddle.”

“If the Donkey would bear it, I should like vastly to see how he would
look when rubbed down and washed,” said my Mistress; “I am sure it must
conduce to the health of the animal.”

“We will try him,” said Mr. George; “perhaps, Caroline, you anticipate
some freak from your Donkey, for the Ass frequently takes the liberty
of rolling himself amongst thistles, or ferns, without regard to his
burthen, but seemingly with a view to reproach the neglect of his
master.”

Never had I before wished to possess the power of speech; how I longed
to assure my Mistress she had nothing to apprehend from me, that my
utmost ambition was to attend her pleasure! And, though I certainly
shrank from the operation to which she had doomed me, I yet resolved
to bear it patiently, and if possible continue to deserve her good
opinion. There is a promptitude in plans of the young, which sometimes
leaves reason at a distance:--Thus, though it was evening, and near the
hour of retiring, we no sooner reached home than Mr. George hastened
to fulfil the wishes of my Mistress; disrobing me of my trappings, and
throwing off his coat, he procured two pails of water and dashing them
at my sides, strove to encourage me under my suffering by the kindest
and most endearing expressions. In vain I tried to seem pleased, it
would not do; my whole frame was shivering, nor could the rubbing down,
or the approving voice of my Mistress, reconcile me to the uneasiness
of my situation. I take credit to myself that I did not rebel, and by
a kick, forfeit my good character. Impatient to make my retreat, I
believe I made an attempt to escape, but Mr. George was really too much
interested in my welfare to leave my coat absolutely wet.

The Doctor, who had been visiting his patients, returned at this
juncture.

“Hey-day,” said the old gentleman, “why is it possible you have been
so imprudent as to wash the Donkey at this time of night? I am afraid
the poor creature will suffer from your thoughtlessness, George: my
dear fellow, you should have reflected that when inflicting a sort of
penance on this animal, it was in your power to temper it, by giving
him the benefit of a warm sun to dry himself; nay, it would have been
good policy. The Donkey invigorated and refreshed by your exertion,
might in future, have submitted to your wishes with cheerfulness.”

“Oh dear, I hope he wont take cold,” said my Mistress, who was sitting
at the window; “do pray Sir, let Jenkins be called, he understands
horses, and may, perhaps, advise what is best to be done for my poor
Jemmy.”

Jenkins was called; but, mark the brutality of this man, he could
neither allow that I was improved by my sousing, nor that any harm
could come to an Ass for any thing of the sort.

“Why they are as hard as iron,” said he, “and as obstinate as mules;
for my part I cannot see why they are ever used, not I, nasty sulky
brutes.”

Mr. George could be very droll at times, and he knew the character of
Jenkins.

“You must not speak disrespectfully of Jemmy,” replied he, “he is a
very good tempered fellow Jenkins, and if he does not suffer from his
washing to-night, _we_ must see that it is done every day.”

“Sir?” replied Jenkins,--“_I_ tend Donkeys! No! Mr. George, I have
enough to do with my horses.”

“So then you would not to oblige me, bestow a little time on this
inoffensive animal?”

“It would be lost time, Sir, I know it; time out of mind they have been
known to be stupid, dirty brutes.”

“Well,” said the Doctor, “Jemmy must decide this point, if _he_ is not
injured by my son’s mistake in washing him at night-fall instead of
the morning, I shall expect that you, Jenkins, will be ready to do as
Mr. George has proposed.”

Jenkins was mute in the presence of his master, but as he drove me to
my shed his eloquence revived: nor did he omit to urge me on by several
smart blows on my sides.

“A pretty thing indeed, to turn Donkey-dresser after twenty year’s
service!” muttered he, “yes, to be sure I’ll dress you, but it shall be
with a good horse-whip.”

These threatenings were not lost upon me. It seemed as though my
fortitude was to be tried to the utmost. It gives me pleasure,
however, to state, I sustained no material injury from this my first
introduction to a cold bath; the agitation of my nerves subsided as I
reverted to the motives which influenced my Mistress. It would have
been ungrateful in the extreme had I done otherwise; and I recommend it
to Asses in general, to adopt a similar effort of their understandings,
under every real or imaginary oppression.

Had I sat--lain down, I should have said,--to ruminate on the
wretchedness of my condition, petulantly concluded that my protectors
had a pleasure in seeing me miserable, it is probable I had nourished
revenge in my bosom, or by concealing my feelings brought on some
serious malady. That I looked to the morrow, with the same thoughtless
indifference as formerly, I will not pretend to say:--No, I dreaded a
repetition of that shock from which I had so lately escaped; my sleep
was broken, and uneasy; huge pails, and rough brushes, passed before
my “mind’s eye,” and the unamiable visage of Jenkins more than once
crossed my imagination.

As I profess to be an Ass of some observation, it may be supposed I
made my own reflections on the conversation of the preceding day.

As a member of the asinine community, I had received much gratification
from the handsome things said of us; the subordination of animals to
their masters no longer astonished me; on the contrary I could not but
admire the confidence man places in the beast of burden, by trusting
his personal safety to our discretion and sagacity. I readily allowed,
that _our_ tractability should be _evident_ ere these distinctions were
bestowed upon us. And had there been any thing wanting to reconcile me
to the degrees of master and servant, I had seen an instance between
man and man, where a deficiency in the respect due to a superior
had placed the humbler party in an ungracious point of view. The
sullen reluctance of Jenkins incited the good Doctor to exert an
authority very foreign to his disposition. Had Jenkins represented
this additional labour as incompatible with his other employments,
his humane master would readily have listened to him. How creatures
possessing the power of speech can so far pervert its use I cannot
understand!

But I am prattling like a giddy Donkey, forgetting, in my resentment
towards Jenkins, the numberless imperfections in my own fraternity.
I know we can be sulky--obstinate in the extreme! yes, many a stripe
have I borne, rather than submit to the guidance of a capricious rider;
and if I _could_ have spoken, there is no saying how far I might
have committed myself. I perceive all the danger of judging others,
more especially those of a distinct genus;--but surely there can be
no harm in expressing one’s contempt for that sort of revenge which
leads a _rational_ being to vent his anger on an innocent Donkey, when
it was perfectly in his power to state his grievance, had he chosen
to do so respectfully. Suppose _we_ sometimes stand still when we
ought to proceed; or dismount our rider by surprise, will you make no
allowance for our fatigue? nor do us the honor of believing that like
yourselves we have our caprices? We possess no modes of expressing our
displeasure, but such as render us odious in the eyes of our superiors:
yet I declare (excepting the fastidious old Balaam) I do not recollect
that I was ever considered an ill-conducted Donkey; and as I am willing
to allow that I share in common the foibles of my particular class, it
leads me to conclude that tenderness to the failings of one’s _own_
species is but a sort of self love which even an Ass may detect, if he
is disposed to take the trouble.

Amidst the many vague wishes which floated in my brain at this happy
period of my existence, was one which had incessantly haunted me since
first I entered on the world--a desire to exhibit myself in my handsome
trappings before old Balaam.

Do not dishonor my feelings, courteous reader, or suppose that I had
become insensible to parental love; no, an Ass of my acquaintance had
informed me a meeting of this tender nature was totally out of the
question, and that the first separation of the foal from its dam was
generally a final one.

With Balaam the case was otherwise; he regularly passed the summer
at Tunbridge, in Kent, and hearing by accident that we were only a
few miles distant from that fashionable place, I sometimes indulged a
hope of crossing his path. “How he will stare,” would I say to myself.
“Yes, I think it will be hardly necessary to tell him, a Donkey’s life
_may_ be very comfortable.--He will see I am well fed, cheerful, and
elegantly dressed.”

In short, it would be endless to repeat the various harangues my Donkey
capacity suggested, as appropriate to this much desired event. It did
arrive, but not under the auspices I anticipated.

But I am gallopping as though I were an actual racer at this moment;
and alas! I have some intervening vicissitudes to relate, and must
endeavour to be methodical.

The morning arrived, and it was with heart-felt pleasure I heard the
footstep of Mr. George Manton approaching my shed. Had Jenkins made
his appearance, I really think I should have fainted; answering the
kind salutation of Mr. George, I ran towards him, and we sallied forth.
“Come my poor fellow,” said he, “I am glad to see you so brisk, we must
pursue the same course, there is a warm sun to dry you this morning.”
I started back intuitively, and as is usual with _us_ when alarmed,
my ears inclined backwards; the young gentleman laughed at me, called
me “a comical animal:” but finding him resolute, I made a virtue of
necessity and submitted with a good grace. Jenkins was not of our
party, and the expedition with which my young master performed his
office soon left me at liberty to bask beneath the rays of a glowing
summer sun.




CHAP. VI.

_A Transfer_.


The increasing weakness of my beloved Mistress, left me at liberty to
amuse myself; but idleness was no longer pleasing, my duties had been
so moderate, and in themselves so delightful, nothing could be more
irksome than my situation when Miss Caroline used to employ me.

I heard something about a journey to Bristol, and such was my
ignorance, I actually considered myself included in the arrangement;
disappointment was my lot--they departed one morning ere I quitted my
shed, and to add to my melancholy Jenkins, whether from forgetfulness
or malice I know not, left me a prisoner during the whole day; in vain
I kicked and brayed, my efforts were unheeded, and it is probable I
should have been nearly famished had not the return of Mr. George,
late in the evening, procured my release. “Is the Donkey housed, Mrs.
Bennet?” said my young master, addressing the Housekeeper, who was
passing near my prison.

“Dear heart! why I’ant seen him to-day,” said she, “poor fellow if he’s
been locked up all this time, he must be almost starved.”

“This is Jenkins’s neglect,” replied Mr. George, opening the door; I
ran forward overjoyed to behold my kind friend.

“Dear Caroline!” he exclaimed, “your poor favorite is already doomed
to neglect,”--and following my footsteps, he seemed lost in his own
reflections. I snatched a hasty but plentiful meal; took two or three
trots across the paddock, and with due consideration for the fatigue
and feelings of my patron, retreated to my shed for the night.

The Doctor was absent nearly a fortnight; his return seemed deeply to
affect his son,--my young Mistress was no more, and every individual at
Penrose, not excepting Jenkins, evinced the most heart-felt sorrow on
this occasion.

I knew not what to think; days stole on, and if the full range of a
fertile meadow, gentle treatment, from such of the family as chance
threw in my way, if these ought to have made me content, I was a stupid
Ass not to prize them,--but my sweet Mistress had said, “comparison,
was the medium by which rational animals judge,” and could an Ass err
in adopting this mode.

Alas! what a contrast did my inactive life present to that which had
marked the days when Miss Morden’s pleasure guided my conduct. I have
some reason to believe that the Doctor and his son entertained similar
ideas respecting my situation; for, though I occasionally received
their kind notice, I observed the name of my Mistress would escape
their lips, as if they too were comparing the past with the present.

Whether idleness is really the parent of mischief I know not, it is
certain, want of occupation led me into a folly, which fatally injured
my future fortune. Tired by the monotony of my existence, I one morning
strolled down a shady lane, contiguous to Penrose, and charmed by
the fragrance, not less than the flavour of the hazel branches that
courted my acceptance, continued my walk; when, turning an angle, I
found myself in the high road. The morning was lovely, and though the
sun had scarcely risen, there was a chirping amongst the birds, and
an appearance of activity in the sons of men, which forcibly claimed
my attention. I saw labourers going to their work--waggons creeping
up the side of the hill,--while the inhabitants of a small Inn seemed
busily preparing to receive their guests. At length a heavy laden stage
approached; I stood gazing at the panting animals that drew it, when a
smart stroke on my back, caused me to recede a few paces;--it was the
coachman, who could not suffer an opportunity of shewing his _regard_
for _our_ species to escape him. As the horses were unloosed from the
carriage, and led to the stables, their languid appearance excited
my sympathy; comparison here seemed to place my Donkey hardships in
the most trivial point of view, nor did it escape me that the four
animals led out to supply their place looked jaded, and unfit to bear
the fatigue to which they were destined. I was beginning to rejoice
that I was not a horse, and I believe had made an apostrophe in the
true spirit of an Ass, when a sallow looking man, with an old kettle
upon his shoulder, fixed his eyes upon me; accustomed to admiration,
I concluded my beauty attracted his notice, and under this impression
slowly pursued my way; the man continuing to follow and talk to
me in the gentlest language. Descending a hollow, the face of the
country assumed another aspect; a large wood lay before me, and I
felt it would be imprudent to proceed. But what was my horror and
surprise, when this black-eyed gentleman seized me by the mane, and
slipping an old leather belt from his waist threw it round my neck and
expeditiously mounting my back, began urging me onward! My resistance
was prompt, and for some minutes effective; I dismounted him twice,
and bore the heaviest blows with determined courage,--till my brutal
antagonist in a rage struck me on the head with his kettle, and nearly
stunned me. Tortured almost to madness, I darted off at a pace which
again unseated my rider; thinking this the moment for escape, I left
him in a thicket and endeavoured to strike out a new path. I did so,
and ran until nearly exhausted; when hearing the cry of a child and
the buz of voices at a little distance, I hastened to the spot, where
a group of five or six persons were seated under a tree; my sudden
appearance startled them, but they received me with hospitality, and
kindly leading me to an adjacent tree secured me from farther fatigue
for the present, by fastening the tinker’s belt to one of its strongest
branches. As my agitation subsided, I took an opportunity of looking
at my neighbours; their features and complexion were unlike all I had
ever seen, except those of my recent enemy, and a prophetic tremor
shook my frame as I admitted the belief that I had introduced myself
into the family of my kettle acquaintance. My suspicion was soon
realized. The tinker arrived, and no sooner beheld me, than he broke
into an exclamation of joy. “So you are here are you, you rascal!”
said he--“you served me a pretty trick, but as I’ve got you at last, I
forgive you.”

This leniency was wholly unexpected, and my spirits rose in proportion.
But alas! this tranquillity was transient. To an Ass of my education,
nothing could be more uncongenial than my new mode of life. The
mysterious manner of my owners excited my surprise and curiosity; we
rarely travelled in daylight, and our lodgings were uniformly fixed in
the most unfrequented parts. There was a constant trepidation and alarm
amongst them on the appearance of a passenger; if the wind rustled
through the trees they hid their property of whatever description: and
though we mutually fed on excellent food, I do not remember to have
seen them _enjoy_ a single meal.

These facts were incomprehensible to me for some days; till, on our
arrival at Maidstone, in Kent, Dan, my unfeeling purloiner, returning
from a morning ramble, imparted his fears to his companions. “We must
be off,” said he, “there’s a notice for all vagrants to quit the town,
and I only axed for a job at one house, and they told me if a gipsy
made his appearance he should be sent to jail.” This intelligence
produced the utmost confusion in our party; and my back was destined
to feel its immediate effect. Two panniers were slung across me; our
remaining stock of provender, with the few cooking utensils that
belonged to these wanderers, seemed too _light_ a load in their
estimation, and a squalling child was added to my burthen. My legs
tottered under this enormous load, but it would have been useless to
contend at such a moment. Only one of the women with Dan accompanied
me: I heard something of arrangements for the night, but was too much
oppressed by my own sufferings to attend to them. What self accusations
were mine during this day! Penrose, and its quiet enjoyments, were
continually rising in my memory; and how often did I wish that the
ignorance of my guides might lead them into its beloved neighbourhood.
I misunderstood the character of my new owners; even though the fear of
justice had not taught them caution, their natural sagacity cannot be
questioned.

That we performed a long journey on this memorable day, my almost
sinking frame could have attested; and the circuitous route we were
compelled to make in order to avoid towns and villages added greatly
to its length. It was ten o’clock, when, after wading through a sandy
soil, similar as I should imagine to those countries[1] in which
_we_ formerly made a conspicuous figure, that Dan, with evident
satisfaction, pointed to a light and expressed his belief that
our friends were at hand. This intimation gave me new vigour: his
conjecture proved just: a large fire kindled beneath a shelving rock
concealed the gipsies, and a plentiful supper regaled them after their
fatigue. I must in justice declare, I never lived better than during
this period; but whether to attribute this to their humanity, or that
profusion is the attendant of profligacy, is not for me to determine.
I certainly availed myself of their liberality with no disposition (at
that time) to judge their conduct.

[1] Arabia, Persia and Egypt.

The assembled group now related the events of the day, which seemed to
give universal satisfaction: till one of the women added, that she had
heard a Donkey cried in the town of Tunbridge, and she was sure from
the description it was me. I was instantly on the alert. Hope took
possession of my bosom. Ah! and shall I again return to Penrose! sighed
I. The next moment damped my joy. “We must sell him then,” said Dan; “I
will set off in the morning and see what I can do.” Even this decision
bore something of promise:--I should be released from my present
ignominious mode of life, should no longer be the companion of thieves,
and perhaps at Tunbridge I might meet my old Mentor Balaam. I will own
there were other considerations which had their weight at that moment.

Tunbridge was a _fashionable_ place: it was, therefore, natural to
suppose some attention would be paid to the _exterior_ of a Donkey,
whose services were required by persons of fashion.

Surely, surely, vanity is the most formidable enemy to improvement!
viz. with Asses: for I conclude no _other_ class of animals are so
foolishly blind. Could any thing be more ridiculous than my again
fixing my thoughts on fine trappings, when I had so lately murmured at
my fate, though in the possession of these things? But I believe it is
necessary to our _true_ enjoyment of life that we should experience
some of its disappointments.

At an early hour next morning, Mr. Dan took leave of his companions,
promising to retain me if it could be done with safety. To my great
surprise the complexion of this gentleman was at least twenty shades
fairer on this morning; and I found from the jocose remarks of his
associates that _he_ was not a gipsy, but one of those criminal
beings who prefer a life of fraud to the not more laborious, though
respectable, calling of a mechanic. This change in the appearance of
Dan was adopted as favourable to his expected sale of your humble
servant; but even the adroitness of the _ci-devant_ gipsy was to
be foiled. We were in the environs of Tunbridge Wells, near what
are called the Bell Rocks: my ignorance in geography had led me to
think the Wells must be contiguous to the town of Tunbridge--I was
consequently surprised when Dan asked a waggoner if he thought there
was any chance of his selling me if he crossed the hill.

“It’s like enough, master, the place is very full,” replied the
waggoner. “But mayhap you _found_ this Donkey!” continued the man, “eh!
if that’s the case you’d better make your market that way, there’s one
been cried yesterday at Tunbridge Town.”

Dan muttered between his teeth, and coolly declaring I was his own
property, we pursued our way, but at a slackened pace. We had just
reached Mount Sion, and I was looking with delight on the fertile
valleys below, when a voice vociferated,

“Holla, mister! I say, where did you get that Donkey?”

Dan dropped from my back and approaching the window of a public house,
asked who called him.

“Where did you find that Donkey, I say?” resumed the man, whom I now
discovered to be Jenkins, my surly insulter at Penrose.

“Did you say you had lost a Donkey, Sir?” said Dan with the utmost
humility.

“Yes, we have lost one sure enough, and I’ve been a wild goose chase
after it too,” continued Jenkins advancing, “but I should like to know
where you found it, tell me that?”

“In ---- forest Sir, two days ago.”

“That’s a likely story truly; and now I look at your face, you rogue,
I remember you well; you stole a saucepan under pretence of mending it;
give me the Donkey and think yourself well off I dont send you to jail.”

Dan wholly denied having stolen me, declaring he never mended a
saucepan in his life, (which was perhaps true) and positively insisted
that he was taking me to Tunbridge, where he learned I had been cried,
and hoped to get the reward offered for me, as he was very poor, and
had a wife and seven children to support.

“You get no reward from me!” resumed Jenkins, seizing me from the
reluctant Dan, “make the best of your way out of this place, or you may
meet a reward you dont expect.”

The mortified Dan was forced to yield, the few persons who witnessed
the altercation being decidedly in favour of Jenkins. What
incomprehensible animals we Donkeys are! I, who had blushed for my
degradation as the servant of a gipsy, knew not how to rejoice at
falling into the hands of Jenkins: yet I trusted his power would be
temporary, and looked forward to resuming my gambols in the luxuriant
paddocks of Penrose.

Jenkins seemed in no hurry to depart; a rope procured from the
landlord, and fastened to the sign post just without the door, secured
me from straying, while it left me at liberty to observe my old enemy.
I saw Jenkins and his companions drinking, and afterwards playing with
spotted pieces of paper, I have since learned were cards; though the
party were at first cheerful, loud words ensued, yet they continued to
be amused with these things; at last the words,

“I’ll bet the Donkey on this hand,” reached my tired ears; I could
not comprehend what _I_ had to do with their employment; a short time
decided my fate. It seems Jenkins lost and I, in consequence, became
the property of his opponent. I thought Jenkins looked sad, as my new
master (a short coarse featured man) with an exulting smile, declared
I was a very fine Donkey, and would bring him in six shillings a day
at the least. These men whom I had seen so boisterous and apparently
friendly, parted in the most ungracious manner. I was led to a poor
hovel of a shed, in which I found two Donkeys reposing after the
fatigues of the day; while I, who had fasted since the morning, was
left to my own reflections.

The unprincipled conduct of Dan, increased by the wilful falsehoods
he had uttered, left a serious impression on my mind; yet, upon
contrasting Jenkins’s unjust transfer of his master’s property, _he_
appeared infinitely more reprehensible. He was a confidential servant,
considered worthy of trust, and, though I would not defend the lawless
depredations of my gipsy acquaintance, one does not expect the same
correctness from those who exclude themselves from the influence of
good example.

Now Jenkins lived in the bosom of a family eminent for their virtues,
while Dan, by long association with the vicious, had become in a manner
a stranger to those obligations by which man is bound to man and
forbidden to do that to another he would consider unjust if applied to
himself. But I must not expatiate on this subject; it is infinitely
above my capacity, and you are no doubt impatient to hear how I was
received amongst the fashionable Donkeys at Tunbridge.




CHAP. VII.

_High Life._


Fortune had hitherto precluded me from any extensive acquaintance
with my own particular class; it was therefore with some timidity I
anticipated the greetings of my snoring companions; fatigue and hunger
had so completely subdued me, that contrary to our usual habits, I
stretched myself at full length, and no doubt added to the _harmony_ of
my associates.

Daylight was just peeping through our dilapidated shed, when my
slumbers were broken by the whispering of my neighbours.

“A fellow-labourer, of course,” said one.

“He little thinks what a life he will lead,” replied the other.

“My friends!” said I, starting up, “allow an inexperienced Donkey, the
benefit of your counsel?” I was proceeding in a strain of respectable
entreaty, when one of my new neighbours imperiously replied--

“Experience implies _age_, and from your height I should conclude you
were my senior.”

Hum, thinks I to myself, this is vanity, but of another kind; “But Sir,
or Madam,” I continued, “I presume not to judge by this light--you
_may_ be younger than myself, and you may be as old as my grandam.”

This unfortunate remark excited the indignation of my reprover, who
turning from me in disdainful silence left me to regret my silly
attempts at repartee. I was beginning to arrange a conciliatory
apology, when the ill-suppressed laughter of my other companion checked
my purpose,

“I certainly know that voice,” said he, “it can be none but the
thoughtless Jemmy.”

“My dearest Mr. Balaam,” said I, _now_ really glad to hear his rough
voice, “by what fortunate event do we meet at Tunbridge?”

“The _fortune_ of the thing rests with yourself, Jemmy, for I will
answer for my visit being wholly involuntary; of course the love of
novelty brings you hither; still a seeker after fashions I suppose,
though by the langour of your voice, I conclude you do not find smart
saddles and white bridles constitute the entire happiness of an Ass.”

With a sigh of heart-felt anguish I assented to this, simply stating
the long fast I had been necessitated to keep.--Balaam generously
cheered my spirits by assuring me I should fare tolerably well in
my present service, but it was equally certain my fatigue would be
extreme. The high minded Juba, who had treated me so cavalierly, now
advanced and appeared desirous of my friendship.

I was too great a novice in the ways of the Donkey world, to understand
that the countenance I received from Balaam had raised me in the
estimation of this worldly Ass.

It might be a proof of _his discernment_ to value those whom
Balaam esteemed, but my ideas of _friendship_ were at this period
purely romantic, perhaps _you_ will call them vain; I looked for
a congeniality of sentiments, similar tastes, in short, all those
nothings which make up the tottering fabric of juvenile attachments. Of
course while under this delusion, the advances of Juba met my sovereign
contempt.--Balaam laughed at us, called us a pair of idiots, and by
bidding me relate my precious adventures diverted my rising indignation.

The sincerity of my nature would not suffer me to gloss over my faults;
I told my tale briefly, but faithfully.

“Well,” said Balaam, as my narration closed, “it must be confessed you
merit your present degradation,--to leave Penrose paddock for you knew
not what? silly, ungrateful Ass!”

“But, my dear Mr. Balaam,” said I, “I fully intended to return; I only
wished to enjoy a morning ramble, and pray take into consideration that
geography is not our fort.”

“Silence,” retorted Balaam,--“no quibbling Sir; instinct is bestowed
upon _us_: let me tell you, Mr. Jem, that the Ass enjoys a large
portion of this gracious gift;--what animal is quicker at scenting
his master than an Ass? more readily knows his home, or is more
sagacious in discovering the best track in a mountainous soil?--but
you have carved your own fortune, and must abide by it, only beware
of murmuring, nor by stepping out of your character as an Ass expose
yourself to contempt.”

My heart was full, the severity of Balaam seemed peculiarly ill-timed,
it was not in nature that a young hungry Donkey could bear such cutting
language.

“I may have been faulty,” said I, “but all Asses are not as wise as Mr.
Balaam.”

Balaam brayed most ironically, then in a softened tone added,--“It is
my regard for you leads me to reprove your vanity; I know that the
animal who offers advice is generally considered an Ass, but it shall
not deter me from warning the offspring of an old friend.”

My feelings were instantly subdued, and with a tremulous voice I
inquired after my parents. Balaam assured me my father was well when
he last met him, and that my mother was most happily situated in the
family of a farmer Adams.--The door of our hovel was now unbarred;
after a glance at Juba, whose exterior by no means justified his
_juvenile_ presumption, and regaling on the soft luxuriant pasturage
that abounds in this pleasant country, we were called to work. A
saddle, at least half a foot too long, disgraced my back; I saw Balaam
smile as I curved and evinced my dissatisfaction at the unfitness of my
dress; the thing was irremediable, we were led to the hill where ponies
and donkeys of all sizes and descriptions were assembled.

It was quite a new scene to me; ladies and children mounted on ponies,
while nursing maids and footmen were gallopping away upon donkeys: they
seemed more able to carry than to guide; at length my turn came, and it
was necessary to change the saddle, for my rider was a lovely little
girl, about six years of age. A man and maid servant attended our
progress; the dear creature was so light, and her attendants appeared
so careful of her, I was convinced I carried no common burthen.

“Jane,” said my fair equestrian, “I wish mama could see me on this nice
Donkey.”

“As we are to have him for an hour, Lady Harriet,” replied the maid,
“suppose we lead him down to the cottage.”

The footman instantly took the hint, and walked by my side; as we
approached the residence of Lady Harriet, a lady from a chamber window
exclaimed,

“Well, how does my Harriet like her ride, are you sure you are not at
all afraid?”

“Oh, no mama, it is so quiet, I wish it was my very own.”

“A likely matter to be sure Miss,” rejoined a young gentleman, who had
just risen from his bed, and apparently roused to the exertion by a
motive which did not do him honour, “if papa buys it, it will be for
me, so make yourself easy as to that.”

At this moment a gentleman with a book in his hand issued from behind
a tree.--“And pray Sir, who told you I was disposed to give any
indulgence to a selfish sluggard?” said he.

“Why I thought to be sure, you would never buy a Donkey for a girl,”
pouted the young gentleman; “but if I make haste and come down may I
have a ride papa?”

“Certainly not,” replied his father.

“If I get up early to-morrow morning may I ride?”

“I make no terms with my children,” resumed the gentleman turning
towards me: “it is a very fine Donkey, Philip,” he continued,
addressing the footman, “does he go well?”

“Remarkably well, my Lord, quiet as a lamb, his paces are very good
indeed.”

“What do you say Caroline, shall we make a purchase for Harriet?”

“Think how far we are from home,” said Lady Hampton,--“but do as you
please my dear, at all events we can have him for a week or two.”

“True; well then, suppose we send Philip to make an agreement with his
master;” Lady Hampton assenting, I was in less than an hour admitted
into the temporary service of Lady Harriet Fancourt. It may be a silly
remark I am going to make, but to me, there is not in existence,
so laughable an animal as a male pet.--Judging by what is expected
to constitute the masculine character in our class, I can make no
allowance for the irritable petulances, the tearful complaints, and the
jealous whims these creatures exhibit towards the softer sex, and until
these weaknesses are totally disowned by the masculine gender, I beg
leave to say, the word Hero must remain an indefinite expression.

I would call the month I passed in the Earl of Hampton’s family
a blissful dream, had not the caprices of Master Hubert Fancourt
occasionally interrupted my happiness.

It might sound harsh, to say this boy did not love his sister, but to
judge from appearances such really was the case.--If my little mistress
was enjoying a morning ride, Hubert was sure to interrupt us; and when
strictly interdicted not to mount my back, but get a pony whenever he
chose to rise at the hour his father appointed, though this mandate
was by the Earl considered decisive, the undutiful boy continually
infringed.

It was in vain that Philip interposed,--the poor nursery maid’s arms
more than once suffered severely from his unmanly pinches, while the
frightened Lady Harriet was threatened with a “good licking,” if she
ever told her papa or mama that he rode the Donkey.

I used to wonder the servants did not betray this young tyrant, till
I heard them say, “They could not find in their hearts to grieve such
good parents; that it was quite impossible to make out how Mr. Hubert
had grown such a tyrant, but they knew, when his brother, Lord Fancourt
came home for the holidays, he would either make him better, or explain
his thoughts to the Earl and his Lady.”

This event did not take place during my service in the Hampton family;
thus it is my painful task to speak only of the foibles of Master
Hubert. Lady Harriet was so gentle and affectionate in all respects,
that the servants were always disposed to please her, and I observed in
this sweet child a peculiarity of language I had never heard before.

“Philip, if you please, will you saddle the Donkey?” And “Jane, if you
have had your dinner, I should like a little ride.” These prettinesses
of speech sounded remarkably harmonious to my ears;--it did not appear,
that the words in _themselves_ were difficult of pronunciation, on
the contrary, I _had_ witnessed considerable efforts in children of
_different_ dispositions, who by the adoption of peremptory commands
laboured to make themselves ridiculous.

And how different was the effect! Alas! if young ladies and gentlemen
could know how much their characters suffer by such disgraceful
ebullitions, I think they would endeavour to be cautious, though they
considered their inferiors to be Asses.

But I was speaking of Hubert Fancourt; he had played us so many tricks,
I never saw him that I did not anticipate mischief. We were returning
from a pleasant airing one morning, Philip employed in making a
daisy chain for Lady Harriet, and Jane listening to the dear little
creature’s recitation of some beautiful verses; when this young ruffian
rushed through a hedge, and seizing my tail threw me of my guard, I
kicked up my heels, my lovely burthen with astonishing presence of mind
grasped the pommel of her saddle, and was thus spared from harm, but
the screams of Master Hubert assured me I had done mischief.

“You deserve it Sir,” said Philip, raising the boisterous boy from the
ground,--“I only hope you are more frightened than hurt.”

“Frightened you Booby, do you think I’m afraid of an Ass?” replied the
struggling Hubert, “get away, I want none of your assistance.”

“Lead the Donkey, Philip,” said Jane, “and let me look at that cruel
boy’s cheek.--Sir, I must wipe your face; it is bleeding,” continued
Jane, as the young gentleman strove to evade her purpose.

“Oh dear me Jane, is my cheek really bleeding?” rejoined the alarmed
Hubert. “What shall I do; will papa see it?”

“To be sure Sir, but you did not think perhaps, that your cruel trick
might have been the death of your sister.”

“Well but she is not hurt you see, so dont stand chattering about
what _might_ have been; what shall I say to papa? Help me out of this
scrape, for I know he will make such a row if he hears the truth.”

“Why I hope you dont intend to tell a story about it, Sir, and indeed,
if I am asked, depend upon it I shall tell the whole truth.”

“You nasty, cross, ill-natured thing, get out, I want none of your
assistance,” replied Hubert, pushing the conscientious Jane on one
side, and hastening home.

I certainly regretted that any branch of Lord Hampton’s family should
suffer through _me_, yet I put it to all, and every description of
animals, not to impute it to a _criminal_ intention.--Against an _open_
attack, the most simple Ass might guard, but there is no saying how
_any_ creature will conduct himself, who is _covertly_ assailed. I
hope I shall stand acquitted to my readers, for I should blush to
think that even a momentary resentment had led me into the error of
ingratitude.

My little Mistress expressed her fears least her papa should be angry
with Hubert.

“We cannot help it my dear if he is,” said Jane; “Master Hubert is so
thoughtless and passionate, he must expect to suffer for it sometimes.”

Poor Lady Harriet could not understand the justice of this remark;
her affectionate heart took alarm; I was dismissed, and I saw her
sorrowfully approach the house.

Circumstances conspired to make me acquainted with the result of this
accident. Master Hubert’s wound, though slight, left some traces on his
cheek. In his hurry to avoid his father, he stole through the library
window and unexpectedly encountered the Earl just issuing from his
dressing-room.

“What has happened?” said my Lord, discovering that the linen of the
young rebel was stained with blood.--

“I, I was playing--that is--I took hold of the Donkey’s tail, and he
kicked me,” said Hubert, surprised into an acknowledgement of the truth.

“That is to say, you have been cruel Sir?” replied my Lord, “and the
animal in his own defence has retaliated; it is very fair, I hope it
will teach you humanity.”

Master Hubert discomfited, retreated to his chamber; and it is with
conscious pride I add, this _involuntary_ avowal precluded the young
gentleman from being admitted into the presence of Lord and Lady
Hampton for three days.

“We must check this pernicious propensity,” said the Earl to his Lady,
“or heaven knows where it will end. Cruelty to animals is a cowardly
vice, almost indicating a bad heart;--indeed, I wholly doubt the
existence of good feelings in any point, where this habit is suffered
to take deep root.”

I have heard, that Lady Hampton shed tears upon this occasion, and
while she lamented the misconduct of her son, wisely participated in
the judgment of my Lord, and banished him from her presence for the
prescribed term.--Had these excellent parents known the danger to which
their little girl had been exposed by the mischievous Hubert, it is
probable his punishment had been more severe.

The anger of this boy was now levelled at the servants, and during his
disgrace, I heard them frequently lament, that however contrite Master
Hubert might appear while he thought his papa and mama could hear him,
he was, if possible, more passionate and overbearing than ever.




CHAP. VIII.

_An Excursion._


If one could reckon on prosperity as a certain possession, the envy of
the malicious would prove shaftless; in fact there are dispositions to
whom envy is a grateful incense. Now I will not allow this was my case,
but it is certain that during my temporary splendour, I was an object
of some consideration to the Asses of my acquaintance. Balaam would
smile on me _en passant_, and if possible give me a word of advice,
while Juba regarded me with a sort of jealous glance, that seemed to
say a great deal. I knew he was an ill bred Donkey, but never having
given him any personal offence, could not tamely submit to his scorn.
When he sneered, I carried my head with more than donkey stateliness;
and once, upon hearing him tauntingly say, “how proud I am!” could not
forbear by replying “that I hoped I deserved my present good fortune.”

It could not gratify my feelings to see other Asses less comfortable
than I was. No! I was beginning to understand the mutability of donkey
happiness, and rather strove to enjoy the present moment, than trust
myself to calculate on its durability.

Not any of the kindnesses the amiable lady Harriet bestowed on me, more
sensibly gratified my taste, than those occasional feeds of corn I
received from her pretty hands; and my appearance was so considerably
improved by these indulgencies, I was actually proving plump, when I
perceived by the activity of the domestics, that the family were upon
the eve of quitting Tunbridge. My spirits drooped at the bare idea of
separation, but when I heard my Lord desire Philip to take me home,
I thought I should have fallen to the earth. Lady Harriet patted my
sides, venting her regrets in so sweet a manner, I knew not how to make
enough of her. “Good bye, poor fellow,” said she, “Philip, pray tell
Mr. Staples he is such a good tempered Donkey, I hope he will always
keep him, and if we come to Tunbridge next year, I am sure Papa will
let me have him again.”

Philip promised to obey his young lady, but I saw him smile at her
innocent zeal.

“You wont get into such snug quarters in a hurry,” rejoined he, as we
pursued our way to my home. It is no less singular than true, that
every domestic in Lord Hampton’s family had treated me with uniform
kindness, nor can I account for this, but by supposing that the active
and humane characters of the Earl and his Lady effected this laudable
imitation.

They never spoke to their servants, but in the most obliging language;
the consequence was, that a degree of willingness and order was
observable in their household, which I never met with in any other
family; yet there was no profusion, none of those mistaken indulgences
which spoil servants, and expose their employers, to imposition.

Ah! happy days: I could grow eloquent in my regrets on this subject;
but time presses, and my tale is to be told. Philip did not omit to
give me due praise when consigning me to my master.

“It’s all very well,” said Mr. Staples, “but I’m glad the job’s over,
for I could have made treble the money of him by day-work, only I
didn’t like to offend his lordship.”

Philip had nothing further to say, and I was left to my fate. The
ill-fitting saddle was again put on, and although the evening was
rather advanced I took my stand on the hill. It was not many minutes
ere a large fat woman singled me out, and with the assistance of a
livery servant, mounted my back. It was in vain the man told her she
had better wait till a side-saddle could be got.

“Dont talk to me John,” said she, “why I hasn’t the least fear in the
world; I tell you I used to ride when I was quite a girl, and with
nothing but a halter round the horse’s neck could go a smart trot: do
you think I can’t manage a Ass?”

John smiled, and seemed to think that as she was not now a girl, but a
fat, unwieldy old woman, it was not a case in point.

Perfectly, indifferent to this lady’s juvenile sports, I only felt
I had a grievous load to carry, and exerted all my strength to get
through my task with credit.

Greatly as I admired the scenery of Tunbridge, I found the soil
peculiarly unfavourable to my progress. Its deep sandy roads added so
considerably to my fatigue: I was forced to stop to take breath. My
rider intent on shewing her skill, attributed this to obstinacy, and
using her whip with energy, forgot the want of the pommel and fell from
her seat. John was so cruel as to laugh, while I, yet held fast in her
grasp by the reins, in struggling to get free, dragged her a few paces
in the sand.

“You stupid booby, stop the Ass,” exclaimed the enraged lady; “I shall
spoil my pelisse.”

“Let go the reins,” said John, half averting his risible features. She
did so, and I very humbly stood still and looked on. John was in the
act of wiping the dust from the soiled garb, when a lady and gentleman
approached.

“Ha! is it you Mrs. Price,” said the gentleman half smiling, “I hope
you are not hurt?”

“O no Sir George, I’m a famous horsewoman, but these Donkeys are such
hopstropolous animals there’s no managing them.”

“What made you venture to ride without a proper saddle?” inquired the
lady.

“O my lady, I has no fears, I never had when I was a girl.”

“But pray do not run such a hazard again,” resumed the lady, “it is
very imprudent.”

They passed on, and I found that my offended rider was the cook of Sir
George and Lady R----.

Civil and considerate as their manner had been it did not meet the
approbation of Mrs. Price.

They seemed to treat her expedition as a foolish frolic, ill suited to
her age; and like the tenacious Juba the allusion touched her vanity.
I rather think she would have expressed her anger, had not some of the
inferior servants of the family joined us.

“Dear me ma’am, was it you that tumbled off the Donkey?” said a pretty
giggling girl, “why Mr. Thomas and I saw you from the mount, we little
thought it was you.”

“Then you see it was me,” replied the old Lady in a surly tone,--“but
look if I’ve spoiled my pelisse. I’ll give Staples a good scolding for
saying this was a quiet Donkey--an ugly, obstinate beast;”--and she
made an effort to strike me. John interfered, and declaring there was
not a Donkey in Tunbridge strong enough to carry her safely, diverted
her rage from poor me. John now grew obstinate, and by persisting in
his opinion, so completely deranged the temper of Mrs. Price, that I
really expected it would end seriously.

“You had better lead the Donkey home,” said Thomas, addressing John,
“and if Mrs. Price will lean on my arm I shall be happy to assist her
down the hill.”

The offer was accepted, they departed, and John now indulged in a
hearty laugh at the appearance of the fat lady.--But the consequences
of this evening proved injurious to me; Mrs. Price took occasion to
villify me, and actually prevented my being admitted into the family of
Sir George R----. My Master vexed at this proscription, seemed disposed
to vent his disappointment on me, though he had so recently asserted
that day-work was preferable to a job--But this is only another proof
that the good within our reach is seldom as highly valued as that which
eludes our grasp.

Balaam welcomed me most cordially to our shed. Juba yet kept aloof,
though I could understand by his restlessness that he listened to
my description of the Hampton family, with any thing rather than a
friendly disposition.

“You are yet a fortunate Animal” said old Balaam; “I hope you will
conduct yourself with temper, now you have returned to more common
duties, always remembering that while no more will be expected from
_you_, than _other_ Asses, that every body knows how far our abilities
extend.”

“But the fat cook, my dear Sir,” said I, “was she not unreasonable in
expecting me to carry her, under the disadvantages I have mentioned?”

“Undoubtedly,” resumed Balaam. “She, like my friend Juba, would submit
to any indignity, provided her youth was not called in question.”--Here
Juba was evidently agitated,--“but it wont do Jemmy,” continued Balaam,
“freaks and frolic are natural in the young; while they disgrace the
dignity of the more advanced in life.”

There was something so decisive in the language and manner of Balaam,
I did not wonder that Juba should be awed to silence in his presence,
but I certainly was surprised to find _myself_ so much the object
of his dislike. He never could be civil to me; if chance led us the
same road, he ran himself almost to death in order to get before
me: and at the stand, if _I_ happened to be selected, he forgot the
_certain_ fatigue to which I was exposed, in the vexation of seeing me
preferred. Experience had taught me, that it was possible to live on
terms of amity, even with horses; for the humble hacks of Tunbridge
evinced none of that hauteur I had borne with from Martello and other
highly educated animals of that species. And I felt it as a lamentable
drawback on my little portion of happiness, that an inhabitant of the
same dwelling should so ill understand my feelings.

Naturally of a social disposition, I was beginning to give this matter
some serious consideration, when the recollection of Master Fancourt’s
conduct towards his sister recurred to my mind.

“What can be expected from an Ass, when _rational_ beings so far commit
themselves,” thought I. Again, the youth of Hubert Fancourt presented
itself; but that was only another reason why the tendernesses and
gentle feelings of childhood should have graced his manner.

The petulance of Juba, appeared less extraordinary on comparison,
for he enjoyed not the blessing of parental care, or the leisure of
independence. Amongst other incidents that attracted my notice at this
period, was a party to Penshurst, to view the venerable mansion of the
Sidneys. A well filled barouche, two ponies, and your humble servant
formed the cavalcade, and pleasure was to be the order of the day.

My task was easy in the outset, being appointed to carry a young
gentleman of light weight. I should have premised that a basket of
provisions had been packed in the barouche, under the idea of dining on
the grass.

We had performed about half our journey, when a boy who rode a pony,
slackened his pace to speak to my rider. “Are you hungry, Ned?” said he.

Ned answered in the negative.

“Poh, I know you are, only you are so modest; I have persuaded Fanny
that she is, you will join us, and you shall see what a row I’ll
make.”--Riding off before Edward could reply, he hailed the carriage;
it was some minutes ere the coachman heard him. Miss Fanny, who rode
the other pony, seemed pleased with the joke; my rider declared it was
altogether wrong.

The loud shouts of Master Arthur, (as this young Pickle was called)
alarmed the barouche party, and when we overtook them, they were all
standing up.--“What has happened?--Is Fanny safe? I hope Edward’s
Donkey has behaved well?” were the several questions put at once.

“O we are all well enough,” replied Arthur, “but almost famished, I
cannot go a foot without something to eat, and Fanny is quite faint.”

“Dear me she does look pale,” said Arthur’s mother, “what can we do?”

“Do? Why open your store basket, and hand us out something good,” said
the undaunted Arthur. “But it is under the seat my dear,” said a second
Lady entreatingly, “and it would disturb us to unpack it now.”

“Very well Ma’am, if you choose us all to be made ill, rather than
suffer a trifling inconvenience it is no matter.”

“What a strange boy you are,” resumed his mother; “I suppose we must
try what can be done.”

“Sister, you do very wrong,” replied the elderly Lady, “the whims of
Arthur ought not to be indulged, I will answer for his being no more
hungry at this moment than I am.”

“Aunt Jemima is thinking of the pigeon pie,” laughed Arthur, “dont deny
it, I see it in your face;” the barouche party smiled;--“but we will be
content with a few sandwiches, so dont look so cross.”

“That boy’s spirits never flag,” cried a gentleman with more lenity
than prudence, “it is impossible to be angry with him.”

“I differ from you,” rejoined Mrs. Jemima, “Arthur is not so much a
lively as a mischievous boy, and I see nothing to approve in that sort
of talent which can only be indulged at the expense of other people’s
feelings.”

“He is young, sister,” cried the mother of Arthur, “you should make
allowances.--Dear me what have we done?” she continued, addressing a
young Lady, who was assisting in opening the basket,--“I am afraid we
have broken a bottle, well it can’t be helped, there my loves,” handing
a paper of sandwiches to her son, “you must make these do till we get
to Penshurst.” Arthur received the package, and ordering the coachman
to go on, immediately dismounted.

“I dare say neither of you want these things,” said he “so let us give
our cattle a luncheon.” Edward laughed at the folly of his friend,
while Miss Fanny declared it would be quite amusing to see a Donkey eat
sandwiches.

We soon devoured these trifles, to the no small amusement of Arthur.
But now a new whim seized his fancy. “He begged Edward would exchange
and let him ride the Donkey.” I anticipated evil from this, but had
nothing to do but obey.

He then proposed a race.--This was positively rejected by Edward, “who
exclaimed against the danger that might ensue to Miss Fanny, and the
injustice of putting a Donkey in competition with a Horse.”

“Then good bye, I’m off,” said Arthur, “you shall see I will soon be up
with the carriage.”

Alas! what was sport to him, was unutterable pain to me. The utmost
exertion on my part could not satisfy this impatient Jehu. His spurs
goaded my sides, and the incessant lash of his whip wounded even to
torture, panting, smarting beneath his thoughtless hand, I found it
impossible to effect his wish of overtaking the barouche. My best
efforts had proved successless; the only alternative left was, to
dismount him as carefully as I could, and thus tire him of my services.

Never had I encountered a more arduous attempt; his agility and
strength were really surprising, and the blows I received, ere I
accomplished my object nearly exhausted me. I succeeded at last, a
friendly dunghill received my proud Master, while I, alarmed for the
consequences of my resentment, scrambled on my feet, and at a gentle
pace pursued the route of the carriage. I heard him halloo, and the
rattling of some pebbles at my heels convinced me he expected I would
return, or await his arrival, but I was not quite such an Ass as to do
either.

My readers may know what it is to suffer from a fall, or a wound,
but they can have no idea of the anguish a beast of burthen is from
thoughtlessness, or cruelty too often doomed to suffer.--The pulsation,
or throbbing of a trifling wound, will disorder the frame of a rational
being.--Then what must it be, when the whole body is in a state of
irritation; when every nerve and fibre seems stretched to the utmost;
and the continued exertion of the wretched animal is expected and
enforced even in the moment of its greatest suffering?

Blush! blush! ye scratched Ladies, and whimpering little gentlemen; or
if ye think ye “have felt persecution, learn mercy.”

I do not believe Master Arthur was more cruel than many other
boys;--but what are called high spirited boys, and Pickles, are for
the most part very thoughtless, inconsiderate beings; and where these
foibles exist, a degree of selfishness is generally observable. It was
purely for his own amusement, that Arthur incommoded his mother and
her friends, and it was by the same laudable motive he was actuated
when lashing me almost to a mummy. Did any other of the party derive
additional pleasure from his folly? The sequel of my recital shall
decide. Keeping the carriage in my eye, I trotted on, till seeing it
stop at an inn, I hastened to the destined goal.

Mrs. Jemima, who first discovered me, looked horror struck, till the
gentleman declared, it was impossible any serious accident could happen
through a Donkey’s throwing his rider.

“How I rejoice Arthur did not ride the odious beast,” said the mother
of my late tormentor.

“I hope poor Ned is safe,” replied Mrs. Jemima, “dear boy, I shall not
know a moment of ease till I see him.”

“Dear me sister, how silly; dont you hear Mr. Powel says there’s
nothing to fear? And Edward is so over cautious, so monstrous prudent,
I should not wonder to find he had sent the Donkey on out of pure
humanity.”

“Edward’s intentions are always good, always amiable,” replied Mrs.
Jemima with calm displeasure.

This altercation as may be imagined, gave me no satisfaction, I rather
apprehended further oppression when it should be known that I had
presumed to escape from the brutality of Arthur.

The party alighted, and a footman was sent in pursuit of the
stragglers. Had I been perfectly free from apprehension on my own
account, it is certain I might have found amusement in the desultory
conversation that ensued; for as every body was anxious respecting the
absentees, not one would enter the inn, but kept lounging near the door.

“I’m sure I hear Arthur’s voice,” said his mother, and in the next
moment a boy driving some pigs made his appearance.

“I dare say it was those nasty animals frightened the stupid Donkey,”
she added.

“Have you overtaken two young gentlemen and a lady?” said Mrs. Jemima,
addressing the pig-driver,--“one of the boys must be on foot,--have you
seen them?”

“I only comed from yon field,” said the boy, pointing across the
road,--“I’se seen nobody, not I.”

Mr. Powel had walked to some distance.

“Mr. Powel is waving his hankerchief,” said the young Lady, “I will run
and inquire what it means.”

She returned in a few minutes,--“all is well Ma’am, Edward is with Mr.
Powel, they will be here directly.”

“I trust you are not hurt my dear boy,” cried Mrs. Jemima, taking the
hand of her favourite.

“It was not I who was thrown, but Arthur,” he replied,--“but make
yourself easy Ma’am,” turning to the frightened mother,--“The Donkey
only laid him on a dunghill and took french leave.”

“Why I thought you rode the Donkey Edward?” she resumed.

“I did, till Arthur entreated me to exchange, and conceiving he would
really be less liable to accident, I instantly complied.”

“But you see, you did wrong,” pouted the discontented mother, “for the
Donkey proved vicious.--I expected more prudence from you, Sir.”

“I am sorry I have disappointed you Ma’am,” added Edward, “but I am
seldom so happy as to meet your approbation;” and turning away, he
retraced the road a few paces.

“Sister! Sister!” said Mrs. Jemima, “this is unpardonable; if he had
refused the request of Arthur, you would have upbraided him; but it is
no matter, I do not forget that Edward is my nephew, though you do.”

“Why, indeed! I must say, Master Edward does not appear to blame in
this matter,” said Mr. Powel, with great deference; “the charming
spirits of my young friend Arthur are beyond a doubt very delightful,
but my dear Mrs. Cosway, we must at times fear, least that which is
really charming in his character should lead him into danger.” Miss
Mowbray, who ventured no opinion in the hearing of her fretful friend,
whispered Mrs. Jemima, “that, it seemed to escape the recollection of
Mrs. Cosway, that her Pickle was infinitely more exposed to hazard with
a half-bred Pony, than the poor Donkey; but, indeed I am astonished
altogether!” she added, “not a word is said about Fanny, and it is she
only that engages my thoughts.”

“Fanny rides remarkably well, my dear!” rejoined Mrs. Jemima, “though
with you I regret to perceive my sister’s too evident partiality.”

By this time the equestrians made their appearance, and every thing and
every body was forgotten in Mrs. Cosway’s joy at meeting her darling.
Edward was assisting his cousin Fanny in alighting, when Mrs. Jemima
turning to Arthur, inquired how it happened that “_he_ again rode the
Pony.”

“Ned made me mount him, because he said, my mother would take fright if
she saw me walking; but has he not explained his plan? Then I will: he
is a capital manager, he walked on first to tell you I had taken a roll
on a dunghill, and prevent any false alarms.”

“Then it appears my nephew’s _prudence_ did not forsake him,” retorted
Mrs. Jemima, glancing reproachfully at her sister; “he was only so
unfortunate as to be arraigned, before he was heard.”

“Come we are all safe and well now,” said Mrs. Cosway, “let us make the
most of our time.” They entered the demesne of Penshurst, and I was
turned into a field of stubble, where it was as impossible to make a
meal, as to be reconciled to the idea that this was a day of pleasure.
I must reserve what occurred in our journey home, and the _enjoyment_
of the _rational_ part of our company for a new chapter.




CHAP. IX.

_Going Home._


It was expected that the fragments of the store basket, would
prove sufficient to dine the servants in attendance; and it was in
consequence of their resisting this proposal, that I became acquainted
with the following particulars.

The party had viewed the house, and adjourned to the park, where the
cloth was spread on the grass. The basket was produced, when behold!
even as suspected, a bottle of red port had been cracked, in complying
with the whim of Arthur; and nearly the whole of the provision was
spoiled--at this moment perhaps there was no doubt of the junior
parties being hungry. Arthur still continued to rally his aunt on the
loss of the pigeon pie, with more boldness than justice, for Mrs.
Jemima (as I heard the coachman say), was the only person in the
family who was simple in her diet. It seems, that after cutting such
things as were really eatable, Mrs. Cosway told the men to carry the
remainder to the inn, and make the most of them. Joseph, an elderly,
respectable servant, to whom this order had been given, pointed out the
impossibility of doing so.

“I told my mistress,” said he, “that we would very willingly take a
snack of bread and cheese, and wait till we got home; but she was in
such a rage with me for saying so, I never saw her so angry.”

The coachman to whom Joseph addressed himself, was sitting on a stile
cracking nuts, and occasionally throwing the husks at me; having been
a sufferer in this _pleasurable_ jaunt, it is natural to suppose I was
interested in every thing connected with it.

“Well if we can get nothing better, I suppose we had best take our
lunch at once,” cried coachman.

“To say truth, it is a shame to see such good victuals lost,” replied
Joseph, “but look, here’s a mess!” presenting the basket, “to be sure
the’ve picked out the best, but you see its impossible to eat any of
this; the salt has got in amongst it, and the wine, and the pie-crust
is soaked through and through.”

While yet they were examining the spoiled remnants, Master Edward
approached.

“Joseph,” said he, “you must be hungry, and slipping a three shilling
piece into his hand, he ran off before either of the men could thank
him.”

“What a noble fellow that is!” exclaimed coachman, “I only wish he was
in somebody’s place, I think we might look forward to a good Master.”

“He is an excellent boy no doubt, but our young one hasn’t a bad heart
neither; no! he’s only giddy, and that is not so much his own fault;
in poor Master’s time, he was a different creature: to be sure young
Edward is ten to one more like his uncle than t’other is; but if that
Mr. Powel doesn’t do more harm than good, my name’s not Joseph. He’s
always ready to praise him and juggle the mother.”--Here, there is a
chasm in my narration. The men repaired to the inn, and I was left to
_contemplate_ the stubble. Having some taste for antiquities, more
especially those of my native isle, I was beginning to regret that
I should in all probability quit Penshurst without gaining the most
trivial information connected with its history; when glancing my eye
towards an adjacent field, I saw an intelligent looking Ass, whom I
resolved to address. After the usual compliments had passed,

“Pray Madam,” said I, “will you be so obliging as to tell me such
particulars, as may have reached your ears, respecting yon ancient
pile?”

“From what I can learn,” replied she, “it was built in the 16th
century, I believe in the reign of Edward the Sixth. The Sydneys Earls
of Leicester lived here in princely magnificience; _here_ Monarchs were
entertained, and here the good and glorious Sir Philip Sydney was born.”

“If I mistake not Madam,” said I, “our illustrious Queen Elizabeth
visited her minister and favourite, Robert Earl of Leicester, at
Penshurst.”

“She did,” replied my quondam friend, somewhat pettishly, “yes her
majesty was no enemy to favouritism, though it seems, _we_ were almost
extinct during her reign.”[2]

[2] This is a fact.

“Indeed!” said I.

“It is true however, and had not the faculty discovered the medical
qualities of our milk, it is probable we had been expatriated from this
island for ever.”

“I cannot suppose her majesty had any personal enmity to us as a
species,” I resumed; “I should rather imagine, that the less luxurious
habits of that period caused our more useful properties to be
overlooked, if not unknown.”

“I grant there was some difference in the style of living,” resumed
my new friend, “but the Ass, Sir! yes the Ass, had indubitable claims
on a princess who professed and practised the rights of the Christian
Religion.”

The allusion was fair, inasmuch, as the most honourable record attached
to _our_ history, is connected with the history of the religion of
Christ. But the warmth of my friend, convinced me, she was not equal to
discussing this subject judiciously; I therefore endeavoured to divert
the conversation, by observing, “that we were now made very generally
serviceable.”

“But does it conduce to our happiness?” rejoined the lady, “the very
contrary is the fact. Formerly the Ass had a distinct employment, and
if her education was limited, it usually proved sufficient for her
station; but, since we have been appointed to run in gigs, act as
ponies, draw loads, we do neither well; and those frequent tastes of
ease which chance throws in our way, but disqualify or impress us, with
that disgust for _common_ labours which exposes us to chastisement, at
the very moment we most deserve compassion.”

Whatever justice there might be in these conclusions, I felt there
would be danger in attending to them; my friend was evidently a
discontented Ass, and as _I_ had more than once indulged in gloomy
reflections and vague repinings, I thought it best to retreat, ere I
imbibed any additional taste for misery. We parted amicably, and as I
stood gazing on the walls of Penshurst, I could not help fancying to
myself, the British Queen and her gay courtiers, visiting this favoured
spot.

This naturally gave rise, to what amongst rationals, is called an
association of ideas. Armours and helmets rose to my “mind’s eye”--then
_our_ strength and stature: nor could all my self-love, reconcile me to
the belief that _we_ could have been made useful as beasts of burthen
in those days. I do not speak of inanimate weight. Imagine to yourself,
gentle reader, a man in armour, seated on a full grown donkey! The
thing is too absurd to dwell upon.--Well then, if the nutritive
property of Asses’ milk, had escaped the observation of medical men,
(as I believe was the case,) I think the Asses of the present day will
allow, that the Queen of England may be forgiven the sin of omitting
to support the assinine race; since the human race were so highly
benefited by the wisdom of her councils, the example of her government,
and the never-fading lessons of magnanimity she has bequeathed to
posterity. I recollected hearing Doctor Manton and his son, discussing
the characters of some discontented Englishmen one evening; but I
remember _they_ were displeased with the present times, and found
something to applaud in all that was gone past.

I cannot enter into the merits of this matter, but like other Asses,
I have my opinion; and must think those who vent their chagrin on the
departed dead, are infinitely less excusable than the caviler who
fights with the hour in hand. It is _seeking_ misery, while it exhibits
the very worst species of resentment. My new acquaintance would not
suffer me to leave Penshurst, without displaying further proofs of her
unhappy temper.

“You have not fared too well here,” said she, thrusting her nose
over the fence that divided us, “but it is no wonder, the owner of
this field thinks himself a great agriculturist; he knows nothing of
farming, or these acres would have been sown with turnips.”

I merely smiled, fearful of venturing any remark before so great an
adept.

“Turn which way you will,” she resumed, “there is nothing but hops, as
if the _sight_ of these plantations was to satisfy the appetite.”

“Oh, oh, madam!” thinks I, “I understand you now, the old fable of ‘the
fox and the grapes’ applies here, as I believe it does in a thousand
instances which escape our observation.” So anxious was I to avoid the
contagion of this lady’s example, I actually forgot the short allowance
to which I had for some hours been doomed; and only longed for the
moment of departure. It was nearly five o’clock, when seeing the horses
putting too, I bade adieu to my testy friend, and approached the gate.
Chance brought Mr. Edward to the spot.

“Why Joseph,” said he! “if this poor animal has had nothing given to
him, he must be almost starved; he could not pick a mouthful from this
field.”

“Not much to be sure Sir,” laughed Joseph.

“Get me some corn,” rejoined Edward.--Conceive my joy as these words
reached my ears; and imagine the glee with which I fed from the sieve
my kind young friend brought to me.

O ye! who eat from habit, for whom many hands provide, and who are
regularly _summoned_ to your meals, you know not what it is to be
forgotten; to hear the joyous gaiety attendant on a pleasant dinner,
nay perhaps _smell_ the tempting viands, while one’s empty stomach
is yawning to partake of the feast. If I thought amplification on
this head, would have the effect of procuring a single comfort to my
contemporaries, I would venture to be diffuse; but, I doubt my powers
in this line. You _all think_ you know how an _Ass_ should be treated
or _maltreated_, and my zeal might chance to expose him to more obvious
neglect.

We quitted Penshurst, observing the same arrangement in our cavalcade,
as when we left home. Mrs. Cosway had gently hinted, that she would
prefer her son’s taking a seat in the barouche, but Arthur, was too
used to command, to listen where his own wishes were concerned; we
therefore set off at a pleasant trot. Miss Fanny Cosway soon took
occasion to express her disappointment in their excursion.

“It has been so stupid!” said she; “for my part, I see nothing
wonderful in old houses, and old furniture, with all the long stories
about the Sydneys; our own house in Warwickshire is much handsomer.”

“Edward is laughing at you Miss Fan,” replied Arthur; “he was quite
at home, while old Powel displayed what he knew, or thought he knew,
still I think it is a fine place; but pray Ned, how do you manage to
recollect names and dates? Aunt Jemima was in raptures with her dear
boy; I could have forgiven her that, if she had not rowed me, because I
forgot there ever was such a person as Edward the Sixth.”

“You affected ignorance in order to teaze your Aunt,” said Edward, “if
I know any thing of English history, I owe it to her instruction; and
as you have had more of her society than I ever enjoyed, it must be
your own fault, if she did not give you the same advantage.”

“Why, to be sure! I recollect she was well disposed to teach, if I had
chosen to listen; but I never could bear to be taught by a woman. They
think themselves so clever, and gabble so much--dont _you_ tell the old
Lady what I say, Miss Fan: I know you have a trick of blabbing.”

“I’m sure Arthur you are very unkind,” pouted Miss Fanny, “but this is
always the way, when you are vexed with yourself.”

“I never was better pleased with myself than at this time,” said
Arthur, “for if there has been any fun to-day, it may fairly be
attributed to me.”

“It certainly has not been the most pleasant of your whimsical
attempts,” resumed Edward; “at least, I judge so from Mrs. Cosway’s
being so low spirited.”

“O! my mother is subject to such fits:” said Arthur, with the utmost
coolness, “but as you say, she must be flat indeed, for even old
Powel’s flattery of me, could not make her smile:--I hate that old
quiz.”

“I neither like nor hate him Arthur, and only wonder to see him made of
consequence any where.”

“Edward you ought not to set Arthur against Mr. Powel, he is our
guardian you know,” said Miss Fanny, “and I’m sure he’s very good
natured, and makes us very handsome presents whenever he comes to stay
with us.”

“It was your brother said he hated Mr. Powel,” rejoined Edward; “I hope
you do not believe him Fanny, and I likewise hope _you_ have a better
motive for _liking_ your guardian than that of the useless presents he
brings you.”

“Dear me, you are so good Edward, there’s no saying a word before you.”

“He is very right for all that,” cried Arthur, “I only wish you and I
thought like him in all respects.”

This justness of sentiment in Master Pickle, claimed my unqualified
approbation; it was clear to me, he wanted only the guidance of firm
and judicious friends to make him a respectable member of society;
whether these advantages ever fell to the lot of the young gentleman in
question, I cannot say.

It soon became evident to me, that the seniors in this _pleasurable_
excursion, were equally disappointed in its result. As the carriage was
ascending a little steep, Mrs. Cosway inquired of her son, “how far he
thought we were from home.” The question was put, and answered by every
one according to their ideas of distance, till the coachman set us all
right by saying, we had about four miles to go.

“Four miles!” exclaimed Mrs. Cosway, “why it will be dark. Sister, I
said it would have been better to set off directly after breakfast, but
you said there would be sufficient daylight for our purpose.”

“It was impossible to foresee the delays to which we have been
subjected,” said Mrs. Jemima calmly.

“Poor Arthur,” sneered Mrs. Cosway, “well he will soon return to
school, and spare his aunt the pain of seeing him happy.”

“You mistake me sister, I am anxious when he is from home,” rejoined
Mrs. Jemima, “because I know his foibles, and he never visits us, that
I do not discover additional cause for uneasiness.”

Arthur laughed, distorted his features, and shewed every mark of silent
derision; fortunately the road became level, and we were left a little
behind.

“The old lady is seriously offended,” said he, “yet it is ridiculous
in my mother to squabble with _her_ because a day in September is not
like a day in June.”

“When you recollect what influences your mother to this opposition, I
think at least _you_ should not arraign her conduct,” said Edward.

This rebuke offended the young gentleman, who I suppose, aware, that he
dared not resent it as his feelings at the moment prompted, found an
opportunity of revenge in teasing me.

“Ah Mr. long ears, I owe you a thrashing,” said he, at the same time
giving me a few lashes with his whip. Edward remonstrated to no purpose.

“It is but a hired Donkey,” said Arthur, “you are over squeamish Sir,
if you dont like his capering, exchange, and I’ll be bound to work him
so, he shan’t throw me again.”

“He shall not be left to your mercy Arthur,” rejoined Edward, and
clapping his spurs, I understood his wishes, and triumphantly bore
my burthen off at a smart canter. It had escaped my rider’s notice,
that a shoe of the Pony Arthur rode, was so loose, as to impede his
progress. I however had seen it, and more confident in myself from this
discovery, entertained no fear of being able to distance my tormentor.
We did so, and arrived at the dwelling of Mrs. Cosway, without further
adventure. I just heard Mr. Edward give orders for tea being made
ready, for the expected travelers, and was quietly led home by a boy,
whom my considerate young friend paid handsomely for his errand.

“And this” thinks I, “is what they call a day of pleasure: if _I_ had
experienced disappointment in being ill treated by one of the party,
it is certain, as far as happiness consists in cheerful spirits,
a _desire_ to be pleased, a wish to accommodate oneself to the
_circumstances_ of situation; not one of these rationals has known what
it is to-day.” Balaam laughed immoderately at my description of this
trip; but, he astonished me by saying, “that if I could hear the party
_themselves_ describe their pleasure, it would wear a very different
character.”

“Impossible,” said I; “excepting Master Edward, there was nothing but
cross purposes, from the time we left Tunbridge till we returned.”

“And for this very reason it would be as I say,” replied Balaam,
“each knows, how far their own petulance contributed to make it
uncomfortable, it is therefore their interest to _combine_ in thinking
or saying, it was otherwise; unless they are all seriously determined
on correcting their tempers.”

I cannot say _I_ was convinced by the reasoning of my old Mentor, but I
had learned to respect him so far, as to be silent though unconvinced.
Balaam certainly was a most discerning Donkey: I trust my readers have
discovered this long since, for myself I may truly say, even his
pleasantries were lessons in disguise; and though I ought to blush for
the many ignorances these memoirs contain, I must acknowledge, that had
he not given me habits of thinking, and taught me to arrange my ideas,
“The Adventures of a Donkey,” had never glided into the press,--a loss
which the juvenile world, will, I trust, duly consider; and while they
do justice to the character of my old friend, make every allowance for
the deficiencies of his grateful pupil: for you all know, that the
wisest teachers do not always succeed in making their scholars wise.




CHAP. X.

_New Services and a Removal._


It would prove an endless task, were I to attempt an illustration of
the various characters I met at Tunbridge. I must however acknowledge,
there was a diversity in my employment, that exactly suited my
disposition.

If I was one day the slave of the froward and intemperate, the next
perhaps introduced me to those gentler spirits, to whom even a Donkey
is disposed to do justice. But I must not omit to mention the races
which took place during my sojourn in Kent.

The first day passed without any thing memorable or essential to
my history, excepting that a sort of emulative ambition swelled my
ass-like bosom, on seeing a really _ordinary_ Donkey receive many marks
of favour in consequence of his success as a racer. I rather imagine,
that my carriage and manner betrayed a desire for this distinction;
for Mr. Staples, on the ensuing morning, held a consultation in my
presence, which seemed to imply that he thought me _capable_ of an
attempt of the kind, with some regret for his remissness in not
proposing me as a candidate for a saddle, to be won that day. As ill
fortune would have it, the destined competitor for this prize was
missing at the appointed hour; every search was made, but without
success; and at a few minutes’ warning, a perfect stranger to my
jockey, and wholly untrained, I was called upon to exhibit myself on
the Donkey course. Conceive the delicacy of my situation when led
through a crowd of spectators, I took my place between two professed
racers! I saw them sneer contemptuously, and felt how complete their
triumph would be if I suffered myself to be frightened into inertness:
and though the object of a new saddle was to me a most desirable
prize, (whose back was already sore from the friction of my present
accoutrements,) I would gladly have borne with “the ill I knew,” rather
than venture on an attempt which might expose me to derision.

My jockey was certainly very encouraging, but I recollected, that
on the preceding day a most marked difference was observable in the
manners of the multitude when the horses ran and when the Donkies
displayed their agility. On the former occasion, a sort of interested
attention was visible, and in their applause was mixed some of those
expressions which implied sympathy for the animals that contributed to
their amusement. But when the Donkies started, nothing but laughter
ensued--loud, boisterous, unrestrained laughter! Now to me, this was
particularly offensive; I always had a dread of this species of mirth.
Whether I am really more nervous than the generality of my class, I
know not, but I confess the effect of this emotion has frequently
incapacitated me for exertion. As I could not hope to escape this
mark of distinction, I endeavoured to collect my harassed spirits;
and listening attentively to the opinion and expectations of my
appointed rider, hoped that I had acquired some portion of fortitude.
We started!--and the shouts of the spectators as instantly commenced. I
lost my self-possession, suddenly stopped, nor could the whip or spurs
of my rider move me until my competitors had reached their goal. I
never could (even to myself) satisfactorily account for this failure;
if I said the voices of _rational_ beings frightened me into cowardice,
you would call me an impertinent Ass:--yet, I have sometimes thought
the event would have been different, had my efforts been received
with more politeness. I know it _was_ insinuated that I took fright
at the sound of a penny trumpet blown by a little boy at the moment
I was passing; and some of my enemies went so far as to say, that my
ears were laid back;--in short, that I exhibited every symptom of
pusillanimity of which my species can be accused. But I positively
deny these slanders. Might not modesty, _genuine_ timidity be supposed
to have some influence on an Ass thus _suddenly_ brought into public
notice? Admitting that I had sighed to be distinguished, I only wished
to share the honours of my brethren; it never entered my imagination
that my master would elevate me to the highest post, without allowing
me to acquire some knowledge of the part I was to perform! Nor can I to
this day think I deserved the sarcasms that succeeded my defeat.

I can imagine the smiles of my readers at this epoch of my memoirs.
You will recollect my little vanities, and perhaps think I deserved to
be humbled. But I appeal to your _dispassionate_ judgments, ye gentle
judges! and would ask, if there is not some difference between the
animal that obtrudes his accomplishments upon the public, and one that
is involuntarily thrust into notice? You will say, my _secret_ wishes
stand in force against me.

I presume to controvert this position, and will obstinately maintain,
that a Donkey must be acquitted of all tendency to vain presumption
on this head, until something more near perfection is discoverable in
_your species_.

I am not such an Ass as to believe that vain wishes are not a
general foibles. I have seen too much of the world to be deceived in
this respect: and while my natural candour leads me to avow my own
defalcations, I would entreat my juvenile readers to be lenient in
their censure.

But to return. My master, who witnessed my disgrace, and whose awful
voice had too often been the harbinger of suffering to lose any of
its potency on this occasion, no sooner saw my failure than he rushed
forward and seizing the whip of my discomfited rider, beat me most
unmercifully. To what extremes his revenge might have been carried
it is impossible to say, had not a gentleman interposed, and, in an
authoritative tone, ordered him to desist.

“Inhuman man!” said the gentleman, “is it thus you abuse the faculties
with which your Maker has endowed you? Which is the greater brute--this
dumb animal, that fear or want of training has made unmanageable, or
you, who thus wantonly display the brutality of your heart?”

“He cou’d ha’ won it well enough if he’d chose,” replied my master,
“but he’s obstinate; and as he’s my own, I shall do as I please with
him.”

The whip was again raised, when my benevolent champion darted into the
crowd, and snatching the arm of Staples, wrested the weapon from his
hand.

“Master Staples,” said a countryman, in a low voice, “have a care what
you’re about, the gemmen’s a magistrate, and may commit you.”

“Oh!” thinks I to myself, “what a happy thing it is when such good
men are entrusted with power!” This was said in the simplicity of my
heart. I thought it impossible but my master would feel ashamed of the
conduct which had exposed him to the reproofs of the humane justice. I
may be mistaken; perhaps he was ashamed, and my ignorance of the way in
which this feeling exhibits itself in _your_ genus led me into error. I
will only add, that though his passion was restrained while we were in
public, he did not forget to give me a thrashing when we got home.

Balaam, who witnessed the inhuman revenge of my master, sympathized
most truly in my suffering.

“What a savage is man!” said he, when we were left to ourselves. “I
heard of your disgrace,” he continued, “if that can be called disgrace
in which we are machines and not free agents. But you were pleased with
the humane man who interfered between you and our master, Jemmy?”

“Yes,” said I, “I wish he were my master.”

“Aye, that would be well. Yet, rely upon it, you owe your second
drubbing to his kindness.”

I stared in astonishment.

“Ha! ha!” resumed Balaam, “you may prick up your ears, Jemmy, and look
surprised, but mark me: the more brutal a man is, the more will he
dread exposure: had Staples been allowed to give you the thrashing he
thought you deserved, it is probable his passion had soon subsided;
the reproof of the magistrate drew the eyes of the multitude upon him.
He dared not answer a man whose authority was so well known, and you
in consequence suffered for that which was really intended to do you a
service.”

Though my sides were actually smarting under this second proof of
Staple’s ferocity, there was something so incongruous in the reasoning
of Balaam, that I could not bring myself to believe him:--feigning
fatigue I betook myself to my old corner, and retraced the events of
the day.

“What then,” said I, mentally, “does virtue cease to be virtue when
exerted in behalf of an inferior species?--it cannot be!” And reverting
to the many anecdotes I had heard Mr. George Manton read to Miss
Caroline, (where the active humanity of man, as directed towards dumb
animals, was most feelingly panegyrised,) I felt clearly, that Balaam
was wrong, and for this once, took credit to myself for superior
discernment.

At length the Tunbridge season closed, and our master, whose love of
gain was insatiable, let us out to a bricklayer, who lived about a
mile distant. Behold your humble servant, Balaam and Juba, with three
neighbouring Donkies, harnessed in team! It is true, our feeding was
more regular, nor could we complain of its quantity, but you may
imagine my displeasure, when a pair of blinkers were affixed to my
head!--it seemed to impugn my character. Was I an impertinent, staring
Ass? Did they think I knew so little of good breeding that I could
not conduct myself without these screens? Balaam happened to be my
partner on the morning I made my _debût_ in the bricklayer’s employ.
Whispering my dislike to these things, the old gentleman, as usual,
laughed at me.

“Why, Jemmy, you will always be a child,” said he; “I thought you had
drawn a garden chair at Mrs. Fenton’s; of course their harnessing was
not complete! Blinkers are indispensably necessary to draught animals;
they constrain us to look straight forward, and thus expedite our
progress.”

“They look very ugly,” said I; “though I now recollect horses wear
them.”

“Undoubtedly,” resumed Balaam. “Use has taught me to consider them a
pleasant shade to the eye. But, my dear Jem, let me advise you to think
a little before you speak:--here are six of us, and one man drives us;
could he do so if our attention was diverted from side to side? if we
were at liberty to look about us?--the thing would be impossible. No,
we must plod on in the way you see, and as I cannot suggest a better
fashion, nor hope to see it adopted if I could, pray learn like other
Donkies to bear with blinkers.”

“I suppose I must,” sighed I: “but surely, Mr. Balaam, you cannot
admire the language of our driver? For my part, I dont understand the
man:--gee up! and waugh! what does he mean by such strange words?”

“You will understand him presently,” smiled Balaam; “nor is there any
thing to complain of in the words themselves, their _accompaniment_ is
sometimes rather painful. All you have to do, is to catch their meaning
and avoid the blow to which your stupidity or obstinacy may expose you.”

“Mighty well,” I replied; “so these rationals expect us to understand
_them_, though they seldom recognise our meaning.”

“There are good masters as well as good servants,” continued Balaam,
“and our present employer is a very good man--I have served him before:
but there is an enthusiasm in your nature, my dear Jem, which does not
tend to make you happy. If we are subordinate to man, he is likewise
under controul, and that to his own species too--a kind of subjection
to which we are strangers. How would you like to be the servant of a
rich, over-fed Donkey, that kept you at work early and late, fed you
scantily, yet expected you to be humble and contented?”

“Oh, horrible!” said I; “say no more, my dear Balaam; blinkers are
very pleasant things. I dare say our driver has the happiest way of
imparting his meaning; I shall soon comprehend his gee ho’s! &c.”
and using my feet rather adroitly, old Balaam could not refrain from
laughing.

“Spare my old legs,” said he, “and take care that your friskiness does
not displease the carter.”

I fell into a quiet pace, and was delighted to find my old Mentor was
well disposed to bear with my vivacity. Nearly two months elapsed in
the service of Mr. Maxwell, the bricklayer, when we returned to our old
master.

One of Staples’s boys was ill of the ague, and the doctor advised
change of air: after some deliberation they proposed sending him to
Bromley, (likewise in Kent,) where they had a relation. I was saddled
one Sunday morning, and, with the invalid on my back, set off for
Bromley.

“Tom,” said my master as we were just departing, “tell cousin Smith, if
he can get a chap for the Donkey he may sell him; I’ve no mind to the
fellow since the race-day.”

Tom promised to tell his cousin and we proceeded. I did not dislike
this intimation, yet I grieved to think I had not taken leave of
Balaam, whose good sense had so entirely won my affections, it was
really painful to me to think we might never meet again.--Our journey
was rather tedious, poor Tom’s malady having weakened him so much as
almost to incapacitate him for a guide;--it was past ten o’clock ere we
reached Bromley. The night was cold and dark, and the reception of the
invalid such as impressed me with no very favourable opinion of cousin
Smith’s hospitality. I was turned to graze in a swampy field where
an old horse was quietly reposing after the fatigues of the week.
Excepting the short period in which I was the gipsies’ servant, I had
never slept but under a shelter. Balaam had deplored this circumstance
as unfitting me for the vicissitudes he believed to be inseparable
from my fortunes as an Ass. Never having considered the matter in this
point of view, how great was my restlessness on the night in question!
I believe I should have wasted the hours in idle regrets, had not the
calm fortitude of my neighbour awakened a more just train of reflection.

“This Animal,” sighed I, “is of a class peculiarly favoured by man;
and perhaps, were I acquainted with his early history, I should find
he too has tasted the luxuries of life, and in a degree superior to
those I have enjoyed; he may have been a successful Racer.” As this
idea took possession of my mind, something like a feeling of conscious
inferiority checked my discontent, and I composed myself to sleep;
where, I beg my readers will suffer me to rest for a few hours.




CHAP. XI.

_A Journey towards London._


The morning brought Mr. Smith to the field, who casting a careless
eye over my figure led my companion away. The too perceptible anatomy
of this poor Animal caused me to shudder, his bones seemed actually
starting through his skin, his knees were broken, and two or three
half-healed wounds on his shoulders, assured me the friction of his
harness must be a constant source of pain. I saw nothing of my aguish
friend during two days; on the third, he crept by the palings, and in
a feeble voice explained his father’s wishes respecting me. Cousin
Smith appeared disposed to depreciate my value; Tom would not allow
this. After some altercation, Smith muttered that he would see what he
could do, and I was left to myself. The air of Bromley did not suit my
taste; the country was flat and after the pleasant hills of Tunbridge,
appeared very uninteresting.

Just as I was beginning to hope a purchaser might not be found and
that I should return to the society of old Balaam, a new master was
introduced to me in the person of a sandman, whose business, according
to his description, seemed to be extensive. He talked of “Lunnon,
Fulham, Kensington,” &c. &c. But it was the first word only that had
charms for me; I sighed to behold the metropolis of my native Isle,
and in my desire to visit London, forgot the ignominious circumstances
under which it was most probable I should make my _entrée_. The
bargain was soon concluded, and I quitted Bromley for Lewisham.

Our first journey was to Blackheath, where I was loaded most heavily,
nor could the frequent stripes of my master teach me to consider my
burden light, my knees would tremble in spite of my wish to give
satisfaction. I rather think my master conceived my load was not
equally balanced, for he thought proper to mount behind the bags and
added so considerably to my fatigue, it was with the utmost difficulty
I reached home. Two or three labourers had joked him on the road, and
one man, whose language sounded new to my ears, declared, “It was a
great big cruelty to load a dumb baste so unmercifully; and by St.
Patrick, I’m glad it isn’t I, that’s your sarvant,” said he.

My Master growled something about “a Paddy,” and bid him mind his own
business.

“And isn’t this my business, and every man’s business?” resumed the
man. “Oh! shame on ye that can keep a sarvant and don’t know which way
to trate him.”

My sides now bore full testimony to old Balaam’s assertion, “that the
interference of the humane,” provokes if not increases the ferocity of
the naturally brutal disposition.

However, as I have said, we reached home. I hoped my toil was over for
this night; no such thing: two ragged children mounted my back, and
proud of having something on which they could exercise their authority,
galloped me up and down the village, to the no small amusement of their
tattered acquaintance.

Many requests were made. That Bob, might have a little ride, and Dick
try just how he should like riding the new Donkey. Thanks to the
selfishness of my master’s family, these aspiring gentry were regularly
refused. When I did retire for the night, I really thought I could have
enjoyed one of those ablutions Miss Morden recommended as healthful; so
completely had the dirty poverty of these people disgusted me.

Six weeks of toil so wasted my form and subdued my strength, that my
master entertained fears for my life; his ill-humour increased; he
had not had enough work out of me. What was to be done? Telling his
grievance to a milk carrier, it was suggested that at Blackheath,
there were always some invalids and I might do very well to carry a
sick child. My master took the hint, and giving me two or three days
of good feeding carried me thither. I suppose I might call this short
interregnum “being at nurse,” for I was placed under the care of a
laundress, who had a fine drying ground, allowed the full range of an
adjoining field and left at my ease.

Fortune favoured me here; one of Mrs. Ellis’s customers saw, liked me,
and made no demur at the price required. The money was instantly paid,
and I heard the Lady say, she would send for me in an hour. I stole a
sidelong glance at my mistress, saw she was well dressed and looked
good-natured, and instantly felt a sort of renovation run through my
whole frame. Yet, I must, in justice to the salubrity of Blackheath
declare, I believe it to be a very eligible situation for sick Donkeys.
You may suppose, I had my own reflections, or rather anticipations
respecting my new home. At one moment I pictured to myself a noble
mansion and extensive grounds--then, a romantic cottage, and luxuriant
shrubberies--in short, I experienced all those sensations that a
sanguine mind will feel under suspense. At the appointed time a man in
a plain livery made his appearance and I was delivered over with due
form.----

“Come along my old fellow,” said the man, as he ran by my side; there
was something auspicious in this commencement, and I put my best leg
forward in order to shew my tractability.

“Matthew,” says my companion to a groom who was rubbing down his
horses, “is not this a handsome Donkey?” Matthew advanced. “Yes he is
a monstrous fine Donkey,” he replied, “he doesn’t look over strong
though,” and, as he relaxed his hold from me, he squeezed a spunge
(which he was using to his horses) full in my face. Now this was an
unexpected ablution; and unmindful of Balaam’s advice, I not only
showed my teeth, but retreating a few paces brayed with all my might.
The groom laughed heartily, and wished to repeat his joke, but my kind
guide prevented him.

“You are as mischievous as a child Mat,” said he, “but there’s one good
thing, if the young ladies see you play any tricks with the Donkey, you
will get into a scrape, so I’d have you take care.”

This was joyful news to me. I was to serve ladies and they must be
humane from what my conductor intimated.

They were humane, amiable in every respect; I think I see the sweet
girls at this moment. But they deserve a regular introduction, and I
must summon all my Donkey eloquence to do them justice.

The family consisted of a gentleman, lady, and three daughters--their
ages eight, ten and eleven. Maria Turner, the eldest girl, was a
very clever, intelligent child. I observed in her a kindness and
consideration for her younger sisters that was truly delightful;
indeed, there was more affection in this family than had ever
previously fallen under my view.

Mr. Turner was a merchant, and rode to Town daily; the young ladies
were employed in the house during the morning. At one o’clock I was
regularly saddled (and let me tell you, it was a very complete thing,
white leather reins, &c.) when our pastime began, and it was pastime to
attend these children. Well then, we sallied forth on the heath, and
they rode me by turns;--there was no wrangling, no pouting with--

“I am sure you have rode longer than I did,” or--“That is not fair
Emma,” and “I am sure Charlotte ought to let me ride before her,
because I am the eldest.”

No! all was harmony. I know their parents set them an excellent
example, but I believe they were likewise much indebted to the care of
a lady, who accompanied us in our rambles. Miss Howard (as this lady
was called) used to relate very pleasant anecdotes during our rambles,
and as we only went at a gentle pace, I had an opportunity of listening
to them. I cannot omit one anecdote which took my fancy amazingly. The
wind was rather high on the morning she related it, so that I did not
exactly catch the name of the person, or the place in which it happened.

“A great man (I believe it was in European Turkey,) was riding out
one morning, when he observed three Asses, heavily laden, standing at
the door of a house in which their masters were regaling. He pursued
his journey, and on his return three hours afterwards, beheld the
poor animals at the same spot. Calling for their owners, he ordered
the Asses to be unladen, and their burthens placed upon the backs of
their masters for the same space of time, saying, ‘it was the fittest
punishment for such thoughtless cruelty.’”

My readers may think little of this fact, but to me it was a most
amusing anecdote; I fancied to myself the mortification of these
gentlemen,--nay, so completely did I enter into the spirit of the
thing, I felt my sides shake with laughter, and was only fearful least
my mirth should incommode the lovely little Charlotte, then seated
on my back. Nor did I fear that the Donkeys could suffer for the
degradation their owners had sustained; for, as an occurrence of this
sort could only happen in a despotic government, where the vigilance
of the powerful is ever suspiciously alert, it is most probable these
Turkish Donkies submitted to their punishment without daring to think
of revenge.

Excuse me, but I cannot resist a smile, even at this moment. It is
true, you will not enter into my feelings on this occasion, yet, as
often as I have related this story to the Asses of my acquaintance,
(and I confess that is little less than a hundred times,) we have
been inconceivably amused. I regret old Balaam never heard it, it
was exactly the thing to please him. Poor Balaam! alas! he--but I am
wandering. Let me see, we were riding on the heath:--well, though the
weather was cold and Christmas near at hand, we seized every fine
afternoon to ambulate about this pleasant spot. It was delightful to
see these children meet their father, as we frequently did; their
questions were so pertinent and sensible, and his manner of explaining
them so pleasant, I used to call these my intellectual rambles. I
remember Miss Maria one day was very anxious to know, why Asses were
called Donkies. Miss Howard had declared, she could not tell how the
appellation originated, as it bore no reference to any living language.
My ears were stretched to the utmost to catch all the information I
could on this subject; indeed, it was one which had often engaged my
thoughts.

While yet the young ladies were talking, Mr. Turner arrived, and they
immediately appealed to him.

“My information will not be perfectly satisfactory, Maria,” said he;
“and for this reason--it is not derived from an authority to which I
would yield implicit credit. Like you, I was curious to know why Asses
were called Donkies, and after some search, I found a definition which
I will give you verbatim:--

“‘Donkey, or Donkey Dick, a male Ass; called Donkey, perhaps, from the
Spanish or Don-like gravity of that animal: also entitled, the King of
Spain’s Trumpeter.’”

The party smiled at this explanation; for myself, I rather liked the
gravity ascribed to us,--it implied dignity; but the allusion to the
trumpeter was a satire upon our harmonic powers. I looked timidly
around expecting every moment to hear some remark that should make me
feel uncomfortable.

I did my young ladies injustice. They laughed at the oddness of the
derivation, or application of the term; and while Miss Maria declared
she could look at me till she fancied she really saw a great deal of
solemnity in the character of my countenance, Miss Emma said, I was a
very handsome good-natured creature, and little Charlotte observed, I
was never tired.

Tired! no, my dear, kind mistresses, it was not in your natures to
injure a worm!

I ingenuously confess, that for this once, I rather turned to the
living page of existing goodness, than sought to treasure up what
might be further quoted by Mr. Turner; so, throwing aside the gravity
ascribed to us, I set off at the most lively trot imaginable,--my
young rider delighting to show her skill, and calling to her papa to
see how well she could manage me. Between ourselves, this was a little
mistake--my care in choosing the smoothest paths went more than half
way towards making her equal to guiding me. Pardon this egotism, gentle
reader, and think how seldom _our_ merits are fairly estimated.

A few days before Christmas, I heard some talk of the family’s going
to town for the holidays. Maria and Emma were overjoyed at the idea;
Charlotte regretted it, “because she could not ride a Donkey in London.”

“O fie, Charlotte,” said Emma, “you forget that your brother George
will come home; besides, you know papa says, the days are so short
he cannot come to us every day, and you would not like to go to bed
without kissing him, would you?”

“No to be sure I would not; but cannot we take the poor Donkey with
us?” asked Charlotte.

“Why you would be laughed at if you rode a Donkey in London, and where
could we keep the poor creature? Evans will take care of him here, and
when we come back he will be quite glad to see little Charlotte,” said
Emma.

I was discouraged by Emma’s mention of London as a place in which
persons riding a Donkey would be a matter for laughter. Foolish Ass
that I was, I thought vulgar prejudices must be confined to those whose
limited intercourse with what is called the world, might in a degree
justify their ignorance: alas! I had no Balaam to set me right, and I
secretly wished I could make my appearance on this great theatre, if
but to clear up the mistake of my young friend. On the evening previous
to the removal of the family, Mr. Turner came home rather earlier than
usual, and, with his daughters, took a turn in the meadow in which I
was grazing:--“Ah, there’s your Spanish Trumpeter,” said he; “girls,
you remember your poor pensioner, Mrs. Arnot;”--the young ladies
replied in the affirmative.

“She is in great trouble,” he continued; “her old horse died yesterday
morning, and as she cannot afford to buy another, the poor woman is
quite disconsolate.”

“Dear me, papa,” said Maria, “we will all join our pocket-money; how
much will a horse cost?”

“More than you possess, my dear girls,” he resumed; “but I was
thinking, with your mutual consent, it would be an act of charity to
present your Donkey to her, and I will buy you another, or perhaps a
pony will suit you better, when we return to the Heath.”

“But indeed, papa, her cart is too large to be drawn by a Donkey,”
rejoined Maria.

“I have thought of that, Maria, and if you all agree, it would be a
good plan to let her sell the old cart and I will buy her one suited to
the strength of your favourite.”

“Then we all agree I’m sure,” said Emma. “Yes, papa, we are quite
willing Mrs. Arnot should have the Donkey, because she will use him
well.”

“What a nice Christmas present it will be!” said Charlotte; “but I hope
Mrs. Arnot will sometimes bring her cart into the Square, that we may
see the poor fellow:”--and rubbing her little hands across my forehead,
she looked as though she had rather not part with me.

The ease with which this transfer was arranged, very powerfully
affected my sensibility. I had considered myself a favourite servant,
and really hoped I had found a permanent home. It is true, the motives
by which my owners were actuated were at once liberal and humane. But,
with all my respect for the Turner family, there was blended that sense
of humiliation, that feeling conviction of our insignificance as a
class, which rendered me truly miserable.

In the warmth of my heart, I could not help questioning their right
to dispose of one, who had faithfully fulfilled the duties of his
station, But here memory helped me to be just. I had heard more than
one rational being lament the caprice of their employers. I recollected
that a clean, healthy-looking young woman, with grief, declared, she
had thought herself fixed in a good service, when a visitor procured
her dismissal, by remarking a defect in one of her eyes, which the lady
said, “was really awful, and made her quite nervous whenever she met
her.” And a labouring man had worked more than a fortnight for a stone
mason, who, discovering he was an Irishman, instantly paid and sent him
off.--These facts stood me in good need. If change was the inevitable
lot of my fraternity, I, certainly, had no right to complain; for I
should not only quit my employers with a good character, but carrying
with me the regrets of some of the family. That personal vanity in
which I had too often indulged, was now gradually declining. It is
true, I sometimes heard civil things said of my figure, &c. but no
lasting advantages attended these compliments: on the contrary, they
had, in my more youthful days, subjected me to those humiliations the
conceited more or less experience. Latterly, I learned to consider
such encomiums as reproofs--they seemed to throw a slur upon my mental
capabilities. “I want those agremens,” would I say, “which give a
sterling character to beauty.” Yet the question is, “Should I have
been happier, should I have learned the art of being content, under my
chequered fortunes?”--if so, what a faulty Ass have I been. But who
will look for superior endowments in a Donkey, whose best services
have procured him no higher honour than that of drawing a London cart?




CHAP. XII.

_A Glance at the Metropolis._


It was finally arranged that I should go to Town with the groom, who
had orders to set off early next morning. An unusual melancholy took
possession of me, as I reflected, that this was, perhaps, my last
appearance in genteel life. I was less sanguine respecting London and
its wonders; and indeed, as my fate was already carved out, there
was nothing like incident or adventure attached to my migration, a
circumstance peculiarly disappointing to an Ass of a romantic turn of
mind. Matthew, who was a good-humoured, giddy young man, cheerfully
undertook the charge of me, and it was on our way towards Deptford, I
learned something of my destined mistress.

“So you are off I see,” said a man in livery, addressing my conductor;
“but what will you do with the Donkey in Town?”

“Master intends giving him to a pensioner of his,” replied Matthew.

“Well, that’s good, but I do think there isn’t a better man than your
master.”

“It is a good family altogether,” continued Matthew. “I wouldn’t
change,--no, not to live with the Prince Regent!--Yes, and not only the
Donkey, but a new cart is to be got for the poor old woman; and all the
children are as pleased at it, as if they had the finest present given
to themselves.”

“Well, such people deserve money, I say,” resumed the man; “I only hope
they may never meet a bad return, for that sometimes makes even the
best hard-hearted.”

“They are not likely to be imposed on, because they go about and seek
into things,” said Matthew. “Why the old woman that’s to have this
Donkey, goes about London with garden-stuff: well, she fell down
just opposite our door in Russel Square--one of the children saw
her, and sent out somebody to assist her: it was in the hard frost
last winter--the poor creature was almost froze--we had her in, and
the maids rubbed her ancle. Mistress came down to inquire into her
story--ordered her to have some victuals--gave her a pound note, and
advised her to go home for that day at least. Well, next morning
mistress walks to Somer’s Town, where this woman lives--hears a good
character of her--that she brought up a nephew that had been her ruin,
and forced her to take to her present business. So then she gave her
our custom, which is something--sent her in some coals, and almost kept
her all the winter; and master brought home word last night, that her
horse is dead--so she is to have this Donkey and a new cart.”

This recital met the entire approbation of our detainer; who, wishing
the Turner family a hundred guineas for every one they now possessed,
suffered us to depart. You may be sure I did justice to these really
good friends, and though I might not actually fall in love with the
occupation of my appointed mistress, I hoped every thing from her
gratitude. We trotted along the road, and, to my great disappointment,
each step that brought me nearer to the metropolis, increased the
unpleasantness of my feelings. You will ask,--what I could expect, at
such a season of the year, but dirt and fog? Now a fog was a luxury
to which I had hitherto been a stranger; consequently its effects
rather surprised me. My breath seemed impeded by this extraordinary
quality of the atmosphere, and I began to think that blinkers must be a
superfluous appendage in London, where it seemed almost impossible to
find one’s way in broad day-light. As we crossed Blackfriars-bridge,
the sun cast a partial gleam, and exhibited a view I was well disposed
to admire. I shall never forget the delight with which the Thames
inspired me as an object. _We_, as I have before observed, are
epicures in water; and though as an element we have our fears and
prejudices when in too close contact with it, so much of our comfort
depends upon the pure state in which we get this beverage, that I trust
I shall be pardoned for the warmth with which I express myself on this
subject.

I was not so silly as to expect to find London paved with gold, but I
certainly thought it would be whole--complete in every part. Great,
therefore, was my vexation, when I found myself less equal to preserve
my paces, according to _my_ ideas of grace, than in many mean villages
through which I had passed. Matthew had frequent occasion to pull my
reins, in order to save me from falling. It is true, the thick mud
which filled up the interstices between the stones, might help to
retard my progress; but I really think, if abstemiousness were not an
acknowledged property of the Ass, any person who had seen me stagger
into London, would have called me a most immoral Donkey.

Our route lay through a part of Fleet Street, Chancery Lane, across
Holborn to Russel Square. What a scene it was altogether! What bustle
and noise! The splendour of gay carriages contrasted by loaded carts,
waggons! &c. &c. and, to add to my astonishment, _men_ carried loads
that appeared to require the strength of a horse. I was beginning to
think _we_ really were a proscribed animal in this world of business,
when a strange sensation in my nose, something like what _you_
would call sneezing, occasioned me to look about for the cause that
could produce such a nouvelle effect on my olfactory nerves. I soon
discovered a miserably fragile-looking Donkey, dragging a small railed
cart laden with bags of soot. I have since learned, that any sudden
surprise checks the emotion called sneezing with your genus. Such a
specific was at hand. Hear it, O ye neglected, uncombed Donkeys! a
human being--yes, a man--drove this cart, whose black face and hands
were only rivalled by his sable garb! They call this description of
person a chimney-sweeper; but as it never has proved to me, that
these people have an antipathy to water, I cannot reconcile myself to
the idea of their invariably dirty appearance. My poor fellow-donkey
excited my compassion: his drooping frame seemed little able to drag
his load, yet he was young. Two lines I had heard Mr. George Manton
repeat, occurred to my mind:--

    “And most unlike the nature of things young.
    That earthwards still thy moveless head is hung.”

Under such circumstances, I really thought shame would have bowed my
head.

How super-eminently fortunate did my lot appear! There was something
invigorating in the idea of carrying fresh garden plants! and I
was actually calculating the chance of a few stray cabbage leaves
occasionally falling to my share, when a completely trimmed vegetable
cart, drawn by a Donkey, obstructed our path. It was in vain I strove
to inhale the freshness of its contents; every thing looked dry and
impoverished, so unlike all I had ever seen, that I knew not how
to believe such trash could meet purchasers. The wretched Donkey
was nearly knee-deep in mud. I shuddered at these specimens of the
estimation in which _we_ were held in London, and scarcely raising my
eyes least I should encounter some new object to pain my sensibility,
we reached Russel Square.

“Would I had been born at Grand Cairo!” sighed I, as I saw Matthew
cleanse his horses after their journey. What though I partook of the
shelter of an elegant stable in a spacious mews; the weight of my
limbs seemed insupportable! and on the instant that I might be called
an inhabitant of the great metropolis, I would have given worlds to
have been transported to the fields of Tunbridge, or any other fields
in which I could have indulged in a roll on the grass. You will think
me a dissatisfied Ass, and perhaps wonder that at such a time my mind
could be occupied by such seeming trifles. Cleanliness is a half
virtue, and it had ever been my habit to practice it to the utmost of
my power. I cannot describe all I thought and felt on this important
day.--Ignorant as I was respecting London habits, I waited, with great
anxiety, the arrival of the family, fully expecting they would visit me
in my new abode. But the carriage was put up, night closed in, and my
hopes were disappointed.

On the ensuing morning brought master Turner to the mews:--he was a
fine boy, full of vivacity, but perfectly conciliating in his manner.
He did me the honour of mounting my back, and expressed himself highly
pleased with me:--only regretting that Donkeys were not rode in London,
or he should have enjoyed an airing in the New Road.

On the subsequent morning a light, compact cart was brought to the
stables, and my harness being fitted, I was led forth by Matthew, who
had orders to take me into the Square, that the young ladies might
see me before I departed. I saw them all standing at the drawing-room
windows; they looked pleased, but by no means gay: I rather think I
was honoured by their mutual regrets at this moment; for as Matthew
received his final directions, the sash was gently raised, and the
words,--“Good bye, poor fellow!” “I declare he looks very nicely,” and
“Pray Matthew tell Mrs. Arnot he is remarkably good-natured, and seldom
requires the whip,” were pronounced. These compassionate sentences fell
on my ears with a sweet but melancholy sound: I scarcely dared raise
my eyes to take a parting glance, so powerfully did the certainty of my
separation affect my spirits.

I was soon called to witness a more pleasing scene:--on our arrival at
a small house, rather agreeably situated in a lane leading out from
the road called Somer’s Town, Matthew (who was highly pleased with his
errand) stopped, and rapping with his whip, Mrs. Arnot answered the
summons.

“Well, old lady, how are ye?” said Matthew. The poor woman replied to
his question by stating her recent loss.

“I know your good young ladies will pity me,” said she; “indeed master
was quite grieved when I told him Dobbin was dead; it is, as I may say,
losing the very bread out of one’s mouth.”

“Why so it would be,” replied Matthew, “if there wasn’t good people in
the world, to help them that can’t help themselves: but what say you to
going partners with me?” laughing. “I think this cart is big enough for
us, in all conscience.”

“You are always merry; but it’s fit you should be, you are young.
That’s a convenient little cart, sure enough, Mr. Matthew, but I hope
you’re not going to leave your place; I should be sorry to hear that.”

“I hope I’m settled for some time,” resumed Matthew: “but I forgot,
I have a bit of paper for you, which will explain my errand;” and
presenting a note to Mrs. Arnot, he waited the effect of her surprise.

“I’m in such a tremble--and I don’t know where I’ve laid my
spectacles,” said she; “your eyes are younger than mine, Matthew, read
it for me.”

“Matthew took the note, and read as follows:--

    “MRS. ARNOT,

  “We were very sorry to hear of your loss in the poor old horse;
  we hope, however, that the cart and Donkey which Matthew has the
  pleasure of conveying to you, will answer your purpose, and prevent
  your feeling any serious inconvenience. Papa and mama think a lighter
  cart will be better for your health and strength. You will call for
  orders as usual; and if you find any difficulty in disposing of the
  old cart, papa bids us say, he will speak to a person with whom he
  has lately had some dealing, and who perhaps may be desirous to
  oblige him. Wishing you every success, we are your sincere friends,

    “MARIA TURNER,

    “EMMA TURNER,

    “CHARLOTTE TURNER.”

“Sincere friends!” exclaimed Mrs. Arnot, “they are angels! O, what
children! Mr. Matthew. But let me not forget their dear parents;--it
is they that have trained them up to goodness, and God will reward
them:--they are rewarded, for their children are humble and dutiful,
and will live to repay them for all their cares.” The poor woman seemed
oppressed while paying this tribute to my late patrons. Matthew kindly
drew her attention to her new property, and as he unharnessed me, and
led me to a respectable patch of pasture at the back of the house, I
was gratified by the unfeigned approbation Mrs. Arnot bestowed upon me.

“It will indeed be better suited to my strength,” said she, following
us; “yes master was quite right; if Dobbin had lived, I should ha’ gone
on in the old way. Make my duty to the dear young ladies--you know what
to say as well as I do--tell them I’ve no eyes for writing, or I would
answer their pretty letter, but I’ll keep it as long as I live. You
wont forget, Matthew, to tell ’em how happy they’ve made me. And about
the old cart--pr’aps as master will take the trouble, he would make a
better hand of it than I should. And be sure and say, I will call in
Russel Square the first thing to-morrow. I shall be off to market early
in the morning.”

“Master George guessed as much,” smiled Matthew, taking a bit of paper
from his pocket; “so, as he had no share in the young ladies’ present,
he sent you this one pound note to go to market with.”

My mistress actually shed tears at this proof of Master Turner’s
liberality, and I have no doubt I should have joined her, had she
remained any longer.

She retired with Matthew, and I fell to and made a very tolerable meal
considering the season of the year, and the extent of Mrs. Arnot’s
demesne.

It may argue little in favour of my gentility, when I add, that I
really preferred Somer’s Town to Russel Square. Vaulted stables, and
neatly paved mews, could not reconcile me to the want of herbage;
there is something refreshing to the eye (putting the taste out of the
question) in that universal colour with which providence has clothed
the earth. I was absurdly going to say, that no other colour could
prove so acceptable to the senses, when the very circumstance of its
being a provision of nature makes the fact incontrovertible. We want
neither the sanction of the Poet, nor any conviction but our own
unbiassed judgment to convince us, that in nature’s plan,

    “Whatever is, is right.”

The next morning initiated me into the bustle of a market; I have heard
that many Asses have made their debût in the neighbourhood of Covent
Garden, but I really think few if any were ever better received than I
was on my first appearance.

A little audience was collected around me, and though their applause,
was not uniformly expressed in a language to which my ears were
accustomed, Donkeys as well as other animals, can discern what is
intended as compliment, and _vice versâ_.

A very singular looking old lady, who was sitting on an inverted
basket, with a tube in her mouth from which she whiffed a gale by no
means aromatic; this extraordinary personage certainly excited my
surprise, and in retreating a few steps, in order to avoid suffocation,
I forgot an appendage the cart, and coming in contact with a passenger,
had nearly done mischief, when the old lady started from her seat a
flame issuing from her mouth, an seizing my bridle exclaimed,

“Can’t ye be asy now! Sure y’re a great big blockhead, that ye can’t
see y’re killing the craters behind ye.”

It would seem that her reproof sounded equally ludicrous to the
by-standers as myself, laughter ensued, but the good humour of my
reprover did not forsake her; she resumed her seat, until a man
summoned her to carry a load, which it astonished me to see a woman
able to bear. She however went off cheerfully, and I felt something
like a twinge of conscience when I recollected how frequently I had
made a difficulty of trifles; though I could not bring myself to think
of the fair sex, while recurring to the features and person of this
portress. It was sufficient she was a woman, and I grieved at the
necessity which placed her in such a situation.

My mistress was evidently superior to most of the persons assembled
in this place; every body seemed willing to serve her. But though
she received their civilities gratefully, I perceived she was by no
means familiar;--regulating my conduct by her’s, I kept a respectful
distance, not making the least approach to acquaintanceship with any of
the Donkeys in waiting.

Indeed, they were for the most part, of the very lowest order of
Donkeys:--you will ask how I ascertained this? Rest assured gentle
readers, that, as in your species there are orders and degrees in
society, so amongst us, there are well-bred Donkeys, vulgar Donkeys,
and Donkeys that neither ease nor indulgences could render elegant.
But I will never lend a foot (the scribbling member in all Assinine
literature,) to publish what could not edify the public. Indeed, I am
of opinion, that were we indifferent to the failings of our immediate
class, there is danger in delineating vices too faithfully;--in setting
forth the consequences of error, an Author may hope to do some good,
and even should he fail, he retains the consolation of knowing his own
moral taste cannot be questioned.

Upon the honour of a Donkey, who is most solicitous of being considered
an ingenuous Ass, I am literally surprised to find myself thus
wandering from Covent-garden market, to Authorship and its moral
effects.--

Jemmy’s--“himself again.”

Our marketing turned out well; a great proportion of this morning’s
purchase was left in Russel Square, where I looked anxiously for my
good friends--they were out in the carriage, and I saw nothing of them
that day. To dwell on this period of my history would be tedious,
suffice it to say, my days were uniformly quiet and comfortable, no
more labour being required of me than what I could with ease perform.
The Turner family continued to be our best customers, and the sale of
the old cart producing a tolerable sum, my mistress looked forward to
the approach of spring with a satisfaction to which she had for some
years been a stranger. I cannot omit one remark respecting my feeding,
if but to do honour to my mistress: considering me as a sort of partner
in her toils, she never forgot to place fresh water in an old tub set
aside for my use; and many a stale cabbage, aye, and many a fresh leaf
fell to my share when in our journeys she thought I had fasted too
long. Excellent, woman! you deserved a better----What was I going to
say? My gratitude had nearly led me to anticipate what you will find in
the next Chapter.




CHAP. XIII.

_An old Enemy, with a new Face._


In the month of April we received frequent visits from the Miss
Turners, who having persuaded my mistress to put a little fruit in her
windows, took this opportunity of further befriending her; they however
left town the first week in May. Mrs. Arnot soon after took cold, in
consequence of getting wet in returning from market. Her complaint
ended in the Rheumatism, which prevented our accustomed little
journeys. A neighbour, who sometimes chatted over the palings which
enclosed our house, advised her letting her cart by the day, and give
up going to market. My mistress hesitated more than a week, at length
she assented, and my life was now totally altered.

One day, I fetched and carried linen for a laundress; on the next, a
pair of panniers dangled at my sides; and accompanied by a man whose
voice almost deafened me, I was the bearer of a weight such as I had
never before sustained.

On these days I always observed, that in proportion as my load
lessened, I experienced his favour or anger, and though I could not
possibly have any influence on the public taste, it seemed that my
driver thought otherwise, and revenged his ill fortune on my poor
sides. Yet I was compelled to smile sometimes, when he would recommend
his asparagus, &c. &c. as fresh from the gardens, when the truth was,
they were the refuse of those large green-grocers who must daily be
supplied with fresh vegetables. At last to complete my degradation,
I was deemed to work one whole day for a chimney-sweeper. This
arrangement was made by the neighbour of my mistress, who unmindful of
my feelings, only stipulated for the black gentleman’s providing his
own harness.

I rather wondered Mrs. Arnot should assent to my being thus employed;
and while a sort of trappings were manufactured of old ropes, I looked
anxiously in at the windows, hoping her humanity might yet save me from
this odious appointment. She was not visible, and I set off somewhat
out of humour I confess. O! what a tedious day did it seem! My nerves
were in a state of irritation truly pitiable. I suppose I must not say
we sneeze; as an emotion indicative of extreme sensibility you may not
choose us to share it in common, but I declare, I think, I sneezed on
this unfortunate day. My head was in constant action--a sort of tremor
agitated my tongue, accompanied by a noise not unlike the snorting of a
horse.

After perambulating through half the streets of London, I was, late at
night, conveyed to my humble home. Alas! my mistress’s kind care was
wanting, my tub was dry; no cheering good-night met my ears; all was
gloom; and spiritless and disappointed I endeavoured to compose myself
to sleep.

Mrs. Corsan the good neighbour of my mistress, paid me a visit in the
morning, bringing a pail of water in her hand. “Poor fellow,” said she,
“I’m afraid your kind mistress will never give you another herself.” I
stared her in the face, but must have remained ignorant of her meaning
had not a man stopped to inquire after Mrs. Arnot.

“She’s very bad,” said. Mrs. Corsan, “hasn’t closed her eyes all night;
you see that fellow’s coming has made her worse; poor soul, it’s hard
she can’t live at peace after meeting with such good friends.”

“I wish the family was in town,” replied the man, “I’d let ’em know,
that I would. She has no right to be made a beggar for such an idle
rogue as that!”

“So I told her,” continued Mrs. Corsan, “but it’s no use advising her;
she says he is her own brother’s child, and if helping him will save
him from wicked ways, she must do it while she has a shilling.”

“And he will take her last shilling: he has no more heart than a stone.
He got money of her last night, and I saw him at an ale-house directly
after.”

“Well, I’m determined I wont leave the house to-day,” resumed Mrs.
Corsan; “and if he does come, I’ll tell him my mind.”

“Do so,” said the man: “I could find in my heart to write to some of
Mr. Turner’s servants. But if she isn’t better by Sunday, I shall be at
leisure then, and will go to Blackheath--it is but a pleasant walk.”

The kind-hearted Corsan blessed this honest creature, while I watched
his departure--fancying the tranquillity such a man must feel within
himself. The indisposition of my mistress gave me serious uneasiness.
I wandered round the house, peeping in at the windows, in the hope
of seeing her: fortunately, this proved a day of bodily rest;--I say
fortunately, for in the afternoon, as I was strolling: by the door, I
heard a faint voice say,

“Ah! poor fellow; are you looking for me?” It was my dear mistress--I
hastened to greet her--the day was warm and the sash thrown up.
She patted my head, and seemed truly glad to see me, inquiring of
her friend, if she had thought of giving me water. Mrs. Corsan’s
attentions claimed my gratitude, which I evinced by rubbing my head
against her arm, in token of recognisance. While I was thus basking in
the presence of my good friends, the garden gate was opened--I turned
intuitively, and beheld Jenkins.

My mistress looked agitated, he approached the window, and leaning on
the sill exclaimed,

“Why old lady, you look a hundred per cent. better than you did
yesterday; you wont die this time.”

“I hope not,” said Mrs. Corsan, stepping forward, “and while I’m her
nurse, I’ll take care she shall be kept quiet.”

“That’s what I say,” retorted Jenkins, “and I advise her to sell her
cart and Donkey and enjoy herself while she can, and I know a man who
wou’d be glad to buy ’um.”

“No indeed, that must not be,” said Mrs. Corsan; “she can let ’um out
while she is sick; besides, she must not offend the family that gave
them to her.”

“A gift’s a gift!” sneered Jenkins; “I should like to hear any body
tell me what I was to do with my own property.”

“Then leave me to do as I please with mine,” said my mistress, feebly.

“She’ll do,” laughed Jenkins; and taking me by the mane, he said, I was
“a fine Donkey, a very fine Donkey, worth three guineas of any body’s
money.”

Admire my self-possession;--no turn or look of mine betrayed that I
had ever seen him. And indeed, had not his peculiar voice been an
indisputable proof of his identity, his strangely-altered person might
have led me to discredit the accuracy of my visual perception. He was
no longer the stout, healthy-looking man I remembered at Penrose:--his
face was florid, but it was the flush of intemperance; while his almost
skeleton figure bespoke any thing but health.

Mrs. Arnot really seemed afraid of him: and when he asked for something
to eat, I thought she trembled. He entered the house, and as his voice
grew elevated, I heard Mrs. Corsan arguing with him to be moderate.
The Turner family were named, and the word Blackheath; but I could not
attach any thing certain to what I overheard. He went away early in the
evening, and for two days we saw no more of him. On the third, he again
made his appearance. Mrs. Corsan forbade him admission, declaring his
aunt was in bed, and had been getting worse ever since his last visit.
Jenkins ridiculed this--said, he must see his aunt, he had a message
for her from the Miss Turners, who had sent her some wine that was to
cure her.

“Why you haven’t been there?” exclaimed Corsan.

“To be sure I have though,” replied Jenkins; I took care what I was
about, and didn’t say I was her nephew; I knew better than that: they
took me for a neighbour, and gave me a good dinner for my trouble.”

“She will break her heart if she hears this, you cruel man; haven’t you
once been her ruin? She might have had a comfortable house over her
head, and lived like a lady if it hadn’t been for you.”

Jenkins grew abusive, forced his way into the house, and I was left to
conjecture the consequences of this unfeeling outrage.

Alas! before Sunday arrived, my poor mistress was no more: her feeble
frame sunk under the conflict of disease heightened by the brutality
of her nephew. Jenkins kept possession of the house--a violence his
relationship to the deceased seemed to sanction. He was her heir, and
such had been the correctness of her worldly dealings, the little
furniture, the cart, and myself remained unincumbered by any claim
whatever.

Mrs. Corsan, whose zealous indignation knew no bounds, threatened to
apprize the Turner family of Jenkins’s imposition. He took fright at
this, and ere my mistress was buried, called in a broker, had the goods
valued, and actually sold the cart and your humble servant to a dealer
in crockery-ware. I was to quit Somer’s Town next morning; but so
secretly had he conducted his villany, Mrs. Corsan knew nothing of my
destination.

As I stood gazing at our humble dwelling, and thinking of the calm
pleasures I had enjoyed in the service of my respected mistress, my
old friend Matthew alighted from a horse and entered the garden. The
poor fellow started back as he saw the closed windows. Mrs. Corsan,
(who would not quit the house till the last duties were performed,) led
him into the garden, and, with great tenderness, told her little tale.
Matthew was too much affected to speak for some minutes;--then, resting
his arm across me, he sighed.

“Well, I’m sure our people will be truly sorry,” said he, “she was
such a good old woman: I little expected to find things as they are. I
came on an ugly errand. Pray can you tell me where the man lives that
brought us word Mrs. Arnot was ill?”

“Not I,” replied Mrs. Corsan; “it was her wicked nephew; he deceived
you, and, God forgive me, but I shall always lay her death to him; he
flurried her, and she was too weak to bear it.”

“And as sure as the world, he robbed us,” rejoined Matthew. “We missed
two silver forks and a table spoon soon after he was gone, and the
butler had somehow a suspicion about him; so I said, I would come and
inquire what sort of character he bore.”

“He has no character that’s good. Why he has sold every stick to a
broker, and got the money, or a part of it. I’ve seen nothing of him
to-day, and if he’s done as you suspect, he’ll take care to keep out of
the way.”

“And what will he do with the cart and Donkey?” asked Matthew, kindly
regarding me.

“It’s impossible to say: perhaps that’s sold too. He’s afraid of me,
because I fetched my husband to prevent his having a parcel of people
in here to drink with him.”

“Well, as I dont know how master would act, if he knew this rogue was
poor Mrs. Arnot’s nephew, I can say nothing, only I think hanging is
too good for him.”

“Aye, he’ll meet his punishment, no doubt,” resumed Corsan: “why when
I knew Mrs. Arnot fifteen years ago, she had as good a house and
furniture as you shall see; and what makes it worse, she gave this
fellow his learning, and bound him to a printer, where he might have
done well:--he got into debt, however, and she was forced to help
him; then he came home to live with her--this was her ruin: from one
thing to another she parted with all her property, and at last took to
selling garden-stuff. But it is so hard to think, that just when she
might have been comfortable, through the goodness of your family, this
wicked man should come and destroy her.”

Matthew was deeply sensible of the worth of my mistress, and said all
that was humane and considerate to her truly firm friend.

“Well, if this scroundrel appears,” said he, “it might be as well to
give him a hint that we suspect him; for I confess, _I_ should not
like to have any hand in bringing him to justice, on poor Mrs. Arnot’s
account. But, do you know, one of our maids said she was sure he was
an impostor, and when the butler gave him the wine in charge, she saw
something shine in his pocket as the bottle was being put in.”

“I’m afraid it is like him,” sighed Corsan.

Matthew took a melancholy leave of this good woman, and as he patted
me, said, “I wonder if this poor fellow is sold or not: our young
ladies would willingly have him again, I’m sure.”

Mrs. Corsan could give him no information on the subject, and he
departed.

Think what my feelings were at the bare suggestion of such happiness,
when I knew how I really was engaged. The sketch I had heard of
Jenkins’s history was truly painful: that sullenness I had observed in
him when in the service of Dr. Manton, now appeared characteristic;--to
a man of his vicious turn of mind, good humour must ever be a
stranger. There must be a sort of harmony between the actions and
the feelings of the person in whom this gracious charm of character
is discernable. For my own part, I should as soon expect to meet
forbearance in a hungry tiger, as equability of temper in the being
whose conscience is his constant (though secret) accuser.

What a singular fate was mine!--again to be a the disposal of this
wretched man. But the actual misery he had occasioned my late respected
mistress, would not permit me to think of self. There was some
consolation in knowing I should not be _his_ slave:--thus I looked to
the morrow, if not with pleasure, at least with calm resignation.

My purchaser arrived at an early hour next morning. Mrs. Corsan
vehemently opposed my removal until she could send for her husband.
The man waited patiently, and upon hearing a detail of Jenkins’s
conduct, seemed to regret having had any dealings with him: but he
had paid three guineas in advance, and had appointed an hour to
conclude the bargain. Mr. Corsan joined us, offered his opinion, and
strongly advised the man to get off his bargain. This did not suit my
new master; he wanted a cart and Donkey, had made a fair proposal,
which had been accepted, and producing a written agreement signed by
Jenkins, the Corsans had nothing further to say: I was harnessed to
the cart, and bade adieu to Somer’s Town as a residence.




CHAP. XIV.

_A Summer in London._


London is a little world of itself. I declare I thought myself well
acquainted with the metropolis, but I found I was quite a novice in
this respect; and as we journeyed southwards towards Westminster, I
was sensible of a striking difference in the air. The month of May,
in a clear atmosphere, is an enchanting season. In a close, populous
neighbourhood, where poverty is conspicuous, the luxuriances of nature
seem almost an inconvenience. I am certain, from all I have seen, other
animals besides Asses, have an antipathy to water; it must be so--or
we should not be disgusted by the sight of those thousands of squalid
beings with which the city of London abounds. My new master and his
family were of this class, and to my utter surprise, neither pasture
nor stable awaited me in this service. Some varieties I had seen; but
it had never occurred to me that I should be led through a house,
and destined to consider a space not exceeding twelve feet, a place
for repose and refreshment after the toils of the day. I literally
shuddered as the cart was backed upon an adjacent dunghill, and I was
introduced through the family mansion.

Did I say the family mansion?--it was an egregious mistake; the
dwelling contained at least half a dozen families, equally elegant
in their habits and manners. I believe they were industrious, but it
did not appear to me that the best consequences of industry attended
their exertions. The younger branches were uniformly idle, wandering
the streets from morn to night; while the seniors when their appointed
labour was over, were chiefly employed in eating and drinking. To me,
this was a strange perversion of common sense in creatures who know
all the necessity of providing against the approaches of old age; the
attacks of disease, and those thousand ills to which “flesh is heir.”
Thus, while I say there was an influx of money amongst these people
occasionally, they yet lived in a state which while it implied poverty,
scarcely, deserved commiseration. My situation was truly deplorable, my
immediate duties being of so hazardous a description as to keep me in
constant alarm.

You have seen those slight carts decorated with crockery ware: well,
it was a vehicle thus ornamented I was doomed to lead. I had made the
discovery, that the sun could shine in London, as my half-roasted body
could have attested. We began our travels at an early hour, and seldom
got home before nine o’clock at night.

A few mouthsful of hay, were thought sufficient for my support during
the day, and though I was really tantalized by the sight of a green
field, many temptations presented themselves in the course of my
peregrinations: for instance, could I see those long bags suspended to
the mouth of a Hackney-Coach horse, and not sigh for such a charming
appendage?--See them drink from the offered pail, and not feel my own
deprivations? It will be said, I am mistaken; that Hack horses are
by no means so well treated as I imagine. Granting that individual
suffering leads us to magnify the comforts of others; you cannot
deny, that we are an abused race. The simple fact, that there are
men appointed to attend to the feeding of Horses, places this in an
unequivocal point of view. Who thinks of an Ass; momentarily releases
him from his harness and suffers him to feel a glimpse of liberty;
slakes his thirst; or, in the most trivial particular seems to consider
him endowed with feeling?

O if nature had not been more provident, and kindly bestowed on us
the virtue of abstemiousness, how much more wretched had been our
lot! But, as man possesses the power (did he feel the inclination) to
improve our condition, it is surely a disgrace to him, and somewhat
impugns that high character of justice with which he too frequently
invests himself. Old Balaam used to say, “that _rational_ animals
occasionally mistook the meaning of the word justice, and while pride
influenced their actions, really thought they were acting equitably.”
I am not disposed to refute this assertion, more especially as I have
seen some instances of quickness of feeling, a dread of being under
obligation, which forcibly corroborate the remark of my friend Balaam.
Yet how can we reconcile the contradiction of that stately _biped_
called _man_ owing obligations to creatures like us, and taking no
account of our services? The stronger the contrast between the obliged
and the obliger, the more imperiously does it claim the regard of the
former.

But here again all-beneficient Providence has befriended us:--we are
patient, submissive; not prone to resent injuries;--and surely these
qualities should endear us to beings to whom authority is so invaluable.

We ask no special favours, nor require a code Assinine to be enacted
for our benefit. No; it is the simple exercise of humanity to which we
think we have undoubted claims; and these pretensions will ever remain
in force amongst Asses, until MAN, by a reference to the religion he
professes or the laws under which he lives, disproves our appeal by
convincing us, he is licensed to wound and maltreat the defenceless.

Forgive this digression; the subject is one in which I am too feelingly
interested to be concise.

To return to my perishable burthen. Our success was various; there were
days in which I was scarcely sensible of any diminution in my load,
and others when a brisk trade gave mutual satisfaction to my master
and your humble servant. Attentive, and open as my ears always were to
receive information, it will not be supposed I could exactly comprehend
those nice distinctions between the names of persons and things, only
to be acquired by intense study, deep research. My ignorance in this
particular led to a painful result: we were in Piccadilly, had just
received payment for some of our goods, a gentle touch of the whip
apprized me I was expected to proceed, when words, which to me sounded
like “Plates off,” caused me to stop suddenly; a jingling, or rather
a concussion amongst our crockery convinced me I had done mischief.
My master seized my reins, struck me violently across the mouth, yet
evidently expected me to bear his brutality with Spartan indifference.
How far my natural hardihood might have helped me at this juncture
I know not, for the whole street was in commotion. I shared in the
agitation, and in endeavouring to recede from my master’s grasp plunged
the cart into one of those holes so frequently left open for the good
of the public.

Like other erring animals I stood still when the mischief was
done;--but as I looked around me, and saw the people running to and
fro, I said to myself, “this is surely a very extraordinary proof of
sympathy; these people can feel upon occasion, yet I really had no
idea that a few plates slipping off my shelves could have had such an
effect!” And, conscious that my second error must have proved more
extensively injurious to my master, I fully expected the crowd would
now surround us. Conceive my surprise when my master forgetting his
rage, inquired which was Platoff!

“That’s him,” said a coachman from the box, “that’s the Don Cossack!”

“Ah,” thinks I to myself, “this then is the trumpeter of some king!
I suppose nations differ in the animals they select for this office.
The king of Spain prefers Asses, I should say Donkeys.” My limited
education did not allow me to judge of this personage by his dress; as
good fortune would have it, a gentleman with a little boy (who had
mounted behind a carriage to get a sight of this Hero) in a few words
set me right.

“That is Platoff,” said he, “General of the Cossacks, called Don
Cossacks from their inhabiting the neighbourhood of the river Don, in
Russia.”

“I think,” said the young gentleman, “that the Emperor of Russia should
be styled Alexander the Great; I am sure he is a better man than the
son of Philip was. But when will they write a history of these times?
I want to read an exact description of the entrance of the Allies into
Paris.”

“Fame will do justice to their magnanimous conquests,” replied the
elder stranger; “but my dear boy, there are already printed documents
which may help to assist your laudable curiosity. It will require time
and reflection to give such a history of late events, as shall be
worthy of the men it is to immortalize.”

“Oh,” thinks I, “what an Ass have I been; history, is to be the
trumpeter of these men!”

The plan appeared excellent according to my idea, for I had heard so
many amusing anecdotes quoted from books of Natural History, I could
not doubt that a natural history of great and good men, must tend to
the edification of the whole species. I shall be dubbed a jealous Ass
when I add, that my nationality was a little touched as these high
encomiums on foreigners reached my ears. “What” said I, “are we to be
overlooked? Are the English people a degenerate Race?” And looking
round (somewhat pettishly I own,) my murmurs yielded to a contrary
conviction. All was enthusiasm, loud shouts! “hats off!”--The warmest
gratulations spontaneously uttered!

“I understand it now,” said I, exultingly. “An inferior people would
not know how to receive these warriors. It is only the brave, that
participate the achievements of the valorous.”

But to descend from _my_ Heroics; the streets were in a few minutes
deserted, and my master found leisure to resume his resentment. Many
degrading epithets were bestowed on my stupidity, but not one word was
said of the bad state of the pavement.

Whether our gravity is against us in some situations, or that we
really want that physical animation which when opposed to passion,
will sometimes awe even a tyrant, I cannot determine; I rather fear
our timidity is mistaken for insensibility; and we suffer for that
very deference we observe towards our masters. Mr. Carter (my then
owner,) had not sustained any material injury from my accident, but he
had lost time, and though this was perfectly optional on his part,
it was attributed to me, nay, the flight of the populace added to his
ill humour,--there was nothing to be done in the way of business. Men
of a certain character (aye and children too,) must have something to
quarrel with--I, an unresisting Ass stood before him,--could any thing
be more opportune? Forgetting the chances were against his brittle
merchandize, he seized his whip and lashed me so unmercifully that
contrary to all precedent, I made a desperate effort, broke from his
hold, and running with all my might reached the top of St. James’s
Street, amidst the clattering of my demolished burthen and the cheering
of two or three gentlemen who had witnessed our contest. There, an
unexpected obstacle presented itself,--the poles of a sedan chair
stopped my progress,--the chair was rescued from destruction by the
activity of one of those herculean animals who carry these leathern
vehicles; but I fell, and my knees received an injury never to be
recovered. Carter arrived furious almost to madness: by this time a
small but select crowd were assembled--one or two persons lamented the
poor man’s loss in his broken crockery, but a gentleman who had been
chiefly instrumental in assisting me to rise, declared, “the scoundrel
is justly punished. I have watched you for some minutes,” said he,
addressing my master. “Do you know Sir, you are liable to imprisonment
for maltreating this wretched animal? and I am strongly inclined to
make you an example.” Carter looked alarmed, and as it is the custom
to call every thing that looks timid, an Ass. I suppose it would be
proper to say, he looked like an Ass. I confess, I never beheld a more
striking contrast than the countenance my master exhibited while under
this gentleman’s censure, and that which had distorted his features
when exerting himself to wound me. It may be that personal fear is not
becoming to man, for certainly I never saw a human face that carried
less of dignity in it than my master’s did at this moment. Referring to
the board on which Carter’s name and abode were painted, the gentleman
drew out his pocket-book and made a memorandum; then, in an impressive
voice bade him be cautious how he conducted himself, for that he would
not lose sight of him.

We moved on slowly. I was now for the first time, suffering under
bodily infirmity; and conscious that my misfortune was of a nature to
lessen my usefulness, the future filled me with horror.

I could not but observe, however, that in the late instance the
interference of the stranger, seemed to have an effect somewhat
different from the doctrine of Balaam.--My master really appeared
humbled, and once or twice stopped to examine my knees without
uttering any of those murmurs, I anticipated from concealed, rather
than subdued anger. We reached home, and our adventure was related to
the assembled family. I had heard of such a thing as embellishment
of style, figures of speech, &c. &c.; but certainly never was tale
more partially amplified, than that in which I was the unfortunate
Hero.--“Oh,” thinks I, “if my actions are thus trumpeted by one who
knows me, what a portrait will be handed down to posterity!” I really
believe it was the injustice of this story-teller, that first led me to
think of writing my own memoirs. It was too bad to hear myself called
an obstinate brute, not worth my feeding! Nay more, that I had brought
ill luck into the family, and now, was good for nothing!--Whatever
truth there might be in the last remark, I thought I had some claim
on their humanity; my lameness was got in their service, and if more
tenderness had been shewn me, I might yet have retained the full use
of my limbs. How to get rid of me was the thing;--my knees were bound
up, and for nearly a week, I was a prisoner. The natural vigour of my
constitution was yielding to this unwholesome confinement, when a clean
respectable looking woman was introduced into my presence.

“Poor thing! he’s been sadly maimed,” said she; “to be sure, he wont
be hard worked with me, but if I buy him, and he don’t answer my
purpose, that would be a great disappointment.”

Carter strongly recommended the animal “that was good for nothing!”--he
would gladly keep me himself, for he knew I should soon be as strong as
ever, only he had met with a horse, a great bargain; and indeed, his
work was too much for a Donkey!

After some demurs on the part of the woman, they agreed, and he was to
send me to Kensington next day.

I felt it was impossible to change for the worse, and resigned myself
to the vicissitudes of fortune with all the calmness of philosophy.
My spirit was broken, that vivacity which had supported me under so
many difficulties no longer lent its aid, nor did I ever hope to find
a service that should restore me to my former self. It was therefore,
with a listless indifference I obeyed the summons of Jack Carter,
my master’s son, who was deputed to convey me to Kensington. On his
mounting my back, I was fully sensible of the injury I had sustained
in my legs. I rather tottered than walked,--my rider perceived it, and
with that cunning which belonged to his family, dismounted, in order to
avoid giving me the appearance of being what I really was at the time;
a worn out, melancholy Donkey. Mrs. Dawes received me kindly; the
agreeable situation of her house, and the comfort of the open air, were
quite a regale to me, who had been suffocating in Westminster for three
months. I saw she was a laundress, and recollecting with pleasure my
former service with a person of this calling, adjourned to a field at
the back of the drying-ground, more composed and happy than I had felt
since the death of the excellent Mrs. Arnot.




CHAP. XV.

_More than one Surprise._


I should deeply regret, if any thing I have said of myself should
dispose my readers to think me a censorious Ass; nay, it would vex me
if I thought any one could justly accuse me of caprice. Yet, I know not
how far I shall stand acquitted to the juvenile world, when I declare,
that in less than a week after my arrival at Kensington, my renovated
health and improved spirits, by leading me to look out of myself,
presented objects which called forth my disapprobation, and exceedingly
offended my ideas of propriety. It may be argued, that having
associated, with the Carter family and other Westminster gentry, I
ought to have been lenient towards less conspicuous personages. Allow
me to say, that in proportion as people are removed from the more
immediate pressure of poverty, we expect to see some of that gratitude,
those attentions to the wants of others, which make prosperity doubly
valuable. My mistress was what is called a hard-working woman, viz.
she employed a number of hands, and in order not to lose money, made
no difference between Sunday and other days. Though she paid her
assistants regularly, it was always at a lower rate than others paid;
and such was her fear of being cheated, I really think she was more
miserable while gaining money, than thousands who are in actual want of
a shilling. I soon learned, it was to her taste for bargains I owed my
station in her family: consequently, my increasing strength was matter
of triumph to one who placed all to the account of her own foresight,
rather than the real cause. I could not respect this woman: she had
not an atom of sympathy in her nature. And though I fed well, I did
not feel in the smallest degree, indebted to her care; the season was
luxuriant, and the field in which I resided was not her entire property.

The Donkey of a neighbour shared my pasturage; a circumstance which
helped to restore me to cheerfulness. He was intelligent and amusing,
and used to relate the occurrences of each day as they arose. His
immediate employment was that of carrying goods for a small grocer.
It was from him I learned the character of Mrs. Dawes. Once put upon
one’s guard, every thing tends to confirm or controvert our suspicions.
I was soon convinced he was right. If my mistress was called away for
half an hour, her poor servants took a little respite, or enjoyed a
laugh amongst themselves; for I should have told you, Mrs. Dawes was
an enemy to mirth in every shape. I used to watch these poor labourers
with lively emotion, and often as I stood gazing at them, have I
heard them say, They worked harder than horses, but never could give
satisfaction to their employer. My own fate compared with these women’s
was bliss; in fact, there were only three days in the week in which my
services were required; and though my knees never acquired their former
strength, I was then fully able to get through my appointed duties.
The natural character of any animal is frequently obscured by the
circumstances of situation; the creature himself often doubting whether
he has not mistaken his own feelings and tastes.

Poverty and low life had given me this sort of impression. I had
sedulously avoided the contamination too often produced by “evil
communication,” but with that ennui inseparable from an English
Ass, believed it impossible I could ever be cheerful again. Vivacity
was certainly a striking feature in my character; it must have been
a radical quality in my disposition,--for neither broken knees nor
past experience could teach me to be grave when I felt myself equal
to a frolic. One sunny morning, perceiving the drying ground full of
linen, whose whiteness almost dazzled the sight, I walked round the
field admiring the regularity of the lines; on a nearer approach, I
observed that some of the articles were of an immense size, suspended
over two lines, forming beautiful avenues beneath. The whim seized me,
that I should like to walk in these lovely alcoves: when, opposing my
shoulders to some weak palings, they gave way and in I marched. Nothing
could exceed my delight on finding myself enclosed within these tents;
I wandered from one path to another, snuffing the freshness of the gale
which gently wafted my covering to and fro, when a screaming amongst
the women startled me. I stood transfixed, hoping I was screened from
detection, and not quite certain that my vagary had caused their
alarm. Could any thing be more silly than my conduct? I forgot that
my legs were exposed to view; and not until I was compelled to exert
them in running from my assailants did I discover my error. Perhaps a
more laughable scene has seldom been witnessed. Figure to yourselves
half-a-dozen women armed with mops, clothes-sticks and wet linen, and
think you behold me, running up one path and down another, the women
laughing all the time as though they enjoyed this part of the frolic as
much as I had done the former. In the midst of our contest Mrs. Dawes
returned from an errand. Her voice struck terror into the cheerful
group; each was accused of having left the gate open. I grieved at
this, and making a sudden spring rushed through another part of the
palings, effecting my escape, but at the expense of my poor knees,
which were again seriously injured. Mrs. Dawes followed, and reviling
me as a mischievous brute, gave me some severe blows with one of the
broken palings. Resistance was out of my power--I could scarcely stand;
and indeed such was my consciousness on this occasion, I almost thought
I deserved the chastisement she inflicted on me.

There was nothing miserly in the blows of this lady: she dealt them
most liberally, I assure you. But when I heard her say, “all the
bed-furniture must be re-washed,” I cannot describe my regrets. It was
in vain the women examined and declared they were not in the least
soiled--she would be obeyed. This tyranny completely disgusted me; and
I believe I should have taken a resolution never again to indulge in
a frolic, however innocent, had not Mrs. Dawes received a letter which
caused her immediate departure for Town. The women took advantage of
this, and she had scarcely left the house, when the curtains were
replaced on the lines. I had now leisure to think of the consequences
of my folly. My lameness was really very painful: ah! how I dreaded the
idea of dragging a load; convinced as I was, that my mistress would not
fail to reproach me, if I experienced not more lively proofs of her
temper.

My mode of life at this period might be called purely domestic--I
saw so much of the household arrangements, and was constantly within
hearing of its concerns. Task-masters and mistresses owe little to the
zeal of their slaves; and though in this happy country the whip is
reserved for unfortunate quadrupeds, the tongue, that goading weapon
(when unfeelingly exercised,) though it enforces obedience never claims
esteem.

The character of Mrs. Dawes was now severely handled by her assistants.
I had heard an old adage, viz. “When the cat’s away, the mice will
play.” “I must just run and see if my boys are come from school,” said
one of the women; “and I,” said another, “must tell the baker to save
me a stale loaf:” to be brief, all, save one woman, departed.

This was undoubtedly wrong; but there was some apology for these
persons, inasmuch, as I have good reason for thinking they were
actually employed as they said. I stood looking at the chasm I had
made in the palings, when I saw a man enter the drying-ground: he
walked upon tip-toe, and began to clear the lines. I thought this
good-natured, being always pleased to see women spared unnecessary
fatigue. An enthusiastic Donkey, like other animals of a similar
description, is apt to evince its approbation in some way or
other. I thought I could do no less than regard this kind stranger
attentively: I dare say there was a strong expression of sensibility
in my countenance at the moment. I wished to catch his eye, not in
the vain hope of exciting his sympathy--that I positively deny: no,
it was a simple tribute of silent admiration I intended to bestow
on him. I ran forward--he started a few paces--then turning, with a
ferocious grin menaced me, but it was by action only. Conceive my
dismay, when I discovered in this active personage the features of
the villanous Jenkins! What could a poor Donkey do?--It was not a
case in which braying could be serviceable. Unintentionally I adopted
a line of conduct which rescued my mistress from an immense loss.
This man had always been my terror; his threatning aspect on the
present occasion revived that fear he was but too well calculated
to inspire:--hastening from his scowling glance I ran towards the
house--startled the solitary woman, who, raising her eyes, beheld the
depredator, and instantly gave the alarm.

Jenkins had carried off a large bundle, and would have escaped
detection, had not the other women been near at hand, and hearing the
cry of “Stop thief!” actually seized his person. I saw him brought
back, followed by a mob; all was confusion: no one knew how to act
till an officer of justice was summoned. The guilty Jenkins was then
conveyed to a place of confinement, and the frightened women were
left to account for their absence. The exact result of this business
never reached me: I conclude their excuses were not accepted, as I
saw strangers in their place next day. Jenkins only escaped condign
punishment from the circumstance of the linen he had stolen being
_dry_:--a point in law certainly beyond my comprehension, though
highly grateful to my feelings when I recollected his amiable aunt. He
was transported for seven years. When this sentence reached my ears,
I could not help breathing a wish, that a change of climate might
produce that alteration in his conduct that might ultimately lead to
reformation. My Donkey friend on this evening appeared much depressed:
I delicately sought his confidence, when, with a sigh, he exclaimed,

“Your present life leaves you at liberty to enter into the concerns of
man, while I am wholly occupied by the oppressions under which my own
species languish.”

“My dear friend,” I replied, “surely you cannot doubt my Donkeyish
sympathy? I am an Ass, and nothing that relates to Asses is indifferent
to me.”

“Spoken like yourself,” resumed Bobby. “I met an old friend to-day
whose sufferings have touched me keenly: I remember him one of the
strongest Asses I ever saw--indifferent to labour, cheerful, patient;
in short, quite a perfect animal. This morning I saw him feeble and
almost sinking for want of sustenance, dragging a load of wood, under
which his legs trembled, yet he had some miles to go. When I expressed
my sorrow at seeing him in this situation, he smiled calmly; said,
there was nothing remarkable in his fate, that we were destined to
labour, and should endeavour to bear it with gratitude.”

“Such characters make one ashamed of oneself,” replied I; “but if your
friend has escaped broken knees, he is probably as equal to his station
as I who am young and apparently healthy.”

Bob smiled. “Then you take no account of age,” said he, “nor think
perhaps that quiet and repose would be acceptable to an old Ass?”

“You mistake me, my dear Sir; I only suggested the possibility of
your friend’s good constitution supporting him under difficulties my
shattered limbs could not endure.”

“The truth is, my dear Jemmy, we are all prone to consider our own
misfortunes too deeply. I grant yours is a case that must excite fears
for the future, but we must not rob the present hour of its enjoyment
in order to speculate on an issue which may never arrive. There is a
degree of selfishness in this, unworthy of your character: forgive my
freedom; did I esteem you less, I should not have presumed to reprehend
your sentiments.”

“A thousand thanks, my kind Mentor,” sighed I, and I rubbed my nose
against his neck in token of my perfect gratitude. “I stand corrected;
I fear it is too true that debility renders us irritable and partially
selfish; but I am a fortunate Donkey in meeting such a friend, I could
almost think, while I listen to you, that my early instructor the
excellent Balaam, was before me.”

“Balaam!” exclaimed Bobby, “did you say Balaam?”

I answered in the affirmative.

“O Jemmy,” continued my friend, “it is for that inestimable Ass I am
now grieving! Yes, it was he whom I met with this morning; but give me
the history of your acquaintance; I am impatient to hear when and where
your friendship began.”

As well as my feelings would permit, I complied. Bob was all attention,
only interrupting me to express his approbation of the justice with
which I delineated the character of our mutual friend.

“My mother should have been his wife,” resumed Bobby. “I have heard
he was the most lively Ass imaginable, until disappointment somewhat
soured his temper. I owe him infinite obligations; forgetting the
injury he had sustained in my mother’s broken faith, he has ever
shewn me the greatest tenderness; and when my father deserted us,
by constantly making me his companion, attracted the notice of his
master, who eventually received me into his service. Fate removed me
from his protection, but I have never ceased to retain a just sense of
his virtues. But what are words,--or what will gratitude avail?--He
is doomed to incessant slavery! Alas! if his own strong mind were not
his best support how pitiable were his situation! As it is, I question
whether he would not reprobate that sensibility which leads us to
lament irremediable evils, rather than strive to bear up against them.”

You may be sure I listened to this admirable model of my esteemed old
friend with all the attention he deserved. Yet, such was my natural
love of inquiry, I could not help wishing to be informed respecting
those circumstances that had brought Balaam to London.

Bobby could give me no light on this subject, further, than that he now
resided at Hampstead.

In this instance, as in many that preceded it, I felt the disadvantage
we labour under in being ignorant of geography. I believe few animals
are more sagacious in finding their homes than Asses: but this is
a species of local sagacity that scarcely soars beyond instinct.
What am I saying?--Instinct is at once our limit and our bliss: did
we possess higher attributes, Nature, jealous of her rights, would
lead us to rebel, and counteract those separations to which we are
invariably doomed. But as vague wishes are confined to no particular
species of animal, I hope mine will meet indulgence; more especially
when it is remembered, that friendship is an active principle, “never
easy when a friend’s distressed,” bold in its designs, and however
well-intentioned, not always reasonable in its speculations.

Had I known how to find my way to Hampstead, and entertained no fear
of being stopped on the road--not by highwaymen nor footpads--but as
a strayed Ass, and perhaps put into the pound, I certainly should have
decamped that evening in spite of my broken knees: but I was a hired
slave, and was yet to endure my share of Mrs. Dawes’ tyranny.

There was a luxury however in talking of dear Balaam: Bobby promised
me, that if chance again brought them together, he would not fail to
convey my dutiful remembrances to the worthy old Ass.

It is surprising to think, with what different sentiments one regards
the same character at distinct periods of time. I who had presumed
to arraign the justice of Balaam--who had thought him severe if not
illiberal--I now saw him as he really was, a very superior Donkey.
His cautions were the result of observation--his warnings, invaluable
lights to those who had sense enough to heed them--and that peculiar
art with which he drew aside the veil that concealed follies which
escaped the notice of less sagacious Asses, was well calculated to
repress the simple credulity of the trusting, inexperienced Donkey. I
blush to think I ever breathed a censure against this venerable animal.




CHAP. XVI.

_A Fair and an Elopement._


When the head of a family is distinguished for ill humour, it rarely
happens that the dumb dependants escape its influence. I had felt the
utmost commiseration for a poor dog that was chained to his kennel and
most sparingly fed by a mistress, who yet expected him to be vigilant
in his office of watching the clothes; and in the simplicity of my
heart, wondered he made no effort to absolve himself from so vile a
bondage, when I was doomed to experience a similar kind of confinement.
I beseech you not to suppose I incurred this punishment by any new
frolic--in fact, my spirits at this period were particularly low:--no,
it was the parsimonious disposition of Mrs. Dawes that led to this
result. The palings remained some time as I had left them, until her
landlord, paying her a visit, made some remarks which compelled her to
have them repaired. The expense could not be considerable, though I
heard her tease the carpenter and declare, he was making a job of it
because she was a lone woman. The man denied the charge, and hastened
his work, glad no doubt to be released from her voluble complaints:
but, in order to prevent any future transgressions on my part, a
rope was thrown over my neck and tied to a tree--thus confining my
exercise within its limits. I felt this as the most pointed insult I
had ever encountered, nor could I bear the idea of meeting Bobby under
so painful a degradation. I was boisterous at first, kicked up my
heels, brayed, and in short, shewed every disposition to resist: alas!
what imbecile creatures we are! What is our strength opposed to the
ingenuity of the rational creation! But it was hard to reflect that
the very quality which made us useful to our employers, should thus be
rendered negative when our own comfort was the consideration. Nor could
I look around me without anticipating the day when, having eaten to the
length of my rope, I might be starved in the view of plenty.

I knew Mrs. Dawes practised this sort of self-denial, scarcely allowing
herself the necessaries of life: this was no rule for me; I was not a
glutton, but most assuredly I had no liking to the Pythagorean system.
Ere evening arrived I had changed my mind, and longed to consult
with Bob respecting this new misfortune. So true it is, that the
consolations of friendship are a balm for almost every ill. Bobby came
home later than usual--I heard his footsteps--but could not, as was
my custom, meet him half way. The worthy fellow was grieved to find me
under such a restraint: but here his good sense did not forsake him; he
would not allow that I was the most unfortunate Donkey in existence,
nor listen to my passionate regrets at the loss of my liberty.

“This is weak in the extreme,” said he; “liberty is undoubtedly a
privilege of incalculable worth; but you breathe the fresh air, are
in no immediate want of food, and your occasional duties will vary
the scene a little. Think of the female Ass, so often doomed to drag
a chained log not only within a limited space, but frequently is
this chain connected with the head, thus holding her in a state of
inconceivable uncomfortableness!”

“I have heard of such things,” said I; “thank fortune I never saw a
lady Ass in this situation, nor can I understand why such a refinement
in cruelty should be inflicted on a female.”

“She is thus punished,” resumed Bobby, “because her maternal feelings
would lead her to pursue her purloined offspring. There is no danger
nor difficulty from which a female Ass would shrink, where the safety
of her young ones is concerned. That her estate on many occasions is
deplorable, no one will deny: it of course excites our sympathy; but
even rational animals have taken note of it. I heard our friend Balaam
repeat some lines on this subject which pleased me excessively.”

I besought Bobby to recite them. He complied as follows:--

    “----is thy sad heart thrill’d with filial pain
    To see thy wretched mother’s shortened chain?
    And truly, very piteous is her lot!
    Chained to a log, within a narrow spot,
    Where the close-eaten grass is scarcely seen,
    While sweet around her waves the tempting green.”

“Very natural,” sighed I, “yes, yes, I can feel the full force of this
description, ‘the tempting green,’ beyond the reach of a hungry Donkey,
must be a most fascinating prospect.”

“Poor Balaam,” retorted Bobby in an impressive tone, “how does he fare
to-night? Possessing this coveted liberty, he perhaps wants strength to
seek the requisite nourishment.”

I felt myself blush, from the tip of my ears to the point of my chin,
which is giving an uncommon latitude to this most becoming of all
beauties.

“Say no more,” said I with emotion, “you shall be spared the trouble of
reproving me on this subject again; have you heard of dear Balaam? Is
he better?”

“I did not see him,” replied Bobby, “but his fellow-labourer Mr. Juba,
overtook me this morning in Oxford Street, and tells me our friend was
too ill to come to town to-day.”

In spite of my promise to bear my present inthralment patiently, this
intimation threw me into an agony not to be described.

“Help me to break these ignoble fetters,” said I, “that I may flee to
my suffering friend!”

“I am afraid Juba knew you better than I thought he did,” retorted
Bobby,--“I have been your defender Jemmy; but he is right, your heart
may be, I believe it is good, your judgment is very defective.”

“Juba was always my enemy,” I replied; “he, is a Donkey of the meanest
capacity, grovelling in his ideas, and can never hope to rise in the
world;--I confess, I should not have expected you to listen to such an
Ass.”

“I did not give entire credit to his assertions,” continued Bobby, “not
for the reasons you assign, for though Juba is an unpolished Donkey, he
possesses that most essential of all qualifications, useful or common
sense, and will succeed, where hundreds would starve--but he was angry,
and I never rely too implicitly on the depositions of angry Donkeys.”

“I shall never be wise,” said I. “O! most excellent pupil of my
respected old friend, bear with my follies,--and tell me, if it is
utterly impossible for me to reach the residence of Balaam!”

Bobby could not encourage me to hope such a scheme was practicable;
but his natural goodness of heart led him to applaud my zeal in this
particular, and ere I closed my eyes to dream the usual dream of a
prisoner, namely, of liberty, he quieted my scruples respecting himself.

“You are not singular,” said he, “it may require some courage to
speak simple truths; but the listener who is to profit by advice
must possess a species of courage seldom to be met with at your
time of life:--nothing but a perfect knowledge of self, can render
us patient of reproof; and I am afraid this is an acquaintance
we rarely make until the benefits to be derived from it become
inconsequential--because we adopt the means when the end must be too
transient to do us credit.”

This home appeal produced the most unqualified candour on my part.--I
am not conscious that I concealed the most trivial failing in my temper
or dispositions. Bob applauded my ingenuousness, and thus ended our
conference.

Well, next morning while we were at breakfast, Mrs. Dawes brought a man
into the field who, approaching me, began to examine my knees.

“I’ll warrant I deliver him up as sound as I found him,” said he, “so
then the bargain’s struck, missus.”

“Why as for that, if you’ve a mind to have him for good and all, I
don’t care; I can always hire a horse when I want one,” replied my
mistress.

“Why that wouldn’t suit me ye see; I’ve no pasturage, and as I say,
it’s a mortal sin to keep a dumb beast and not give it enough to eat.”

Mrs. Dawes was silent--and the man proceeded--“No! for three days, I
should like to have him, the fair only lasts three days.”

I felt a cold shiver at the bare mention of a fair. “Oh!” thinks I, “if
there are Races at this place as at Tunbridge, what shall I do?--And
again, if it really was the _penny trumpet_, that caused my failure,
what may I not expect to meet in the environs of London, where, of
course, every species toy is on a more grand scale!”

“His knees are terribly broken to be sure,” resumed the man, as he
released me from the rope.

My vanity instantly fled--who would think of proposing a broken-kneed
Donkey as a Racer?

I wonder whether rational beings make mistakes of this nature, and
reckon upon their beauties and attractive qualities, when they
no longer exist:--if so, they, and they only will understand the
awkwardness of my feelings at this moment. Bobby smiled significantly.
“You are vastly clever indeed, Mr. Bob,” thought I, “if you can guess
my secret thoughts;”--and I raised my head in the expectation of being
reproved, when the kind creature in a half whisper informed me--that
if my destination was West-end Fair, it was in the neighbourhood of
Hampstead, and I might probably meet Juba, and gain some intelligence
respecting Balaam.--Again I blushed, and it was a blush of shame,
to think I had judged this amiable Donkey’s feelings by my own
disappointed, or rather humbled vanity. We parted,--and I had soon the
pleasure to hear, West-end was to be the theatre of my actions. Mr.
Ford my temporary master, soon harnessed me to a miserably shattered
looking vehicle; but though I doubted its security, there were four
full-grown persons who held a contrary opinion, they ascended the cart
by a ladder--to use the language of Gilpin,

    “Four precious souls, and all agog
    To dash through thick and thin.”

Dashing, however, was out of the question with me. Fortunately my
driver was humane; and as he walked by my side, my incapacity was not
suspected for some time. At length a lady exclaimed, “you had better
come in, we can make room for you, Mr. Ford, and then we can whip up
the Donkey.”

Ford declined the offer, perhaps conscious that I should disappoint
their expectation if he complied, though his answer carried a better
interpretation. “No! no!” said he. “We must think of the Donkey too,
four to one, is enough in all conscience, besides, _I_ shall want him
when I get there.”

The party were very impatient, continually inquiring how far we had
to go, &c. &c. Ford was civil in his replies, and by hinting, that it
was better to go at an equal pace, than to hurry and perhaps have me
founder on the road, reconciled them to my certainly tedious pace.
A case in point soon presented itself,--we had past through Kilborn
Turnpike, when a crowd of people in the road obstructed our progress.
I heard a whip used with great vehemence,--Ford stepped forward, the
crowd made way for him,--when I saw a wretched Donkey writhing beneath
the hand of its cruel owner. A party of men, women and children stood
around, who it appeared had been the load with which this creature’s
strength could not contend; and for this, his master chose to wound
him, almost to flaying, in order of course, to increase his capability.

I admit, that there was a great degree of obstinacy in this animal, at
least, what you would call stubbornness. For, so every opposition of an
irrational animal is termed by your genus; with us, it has a different
meaning,--we call it self-defence: and though greatly varying from your
acceptation of this natural right, we think obstinacy at times stands
us in good need. The master, who finds blows do not answer his purpose,
will adopt another line of conduct. Granting that we suffer in these
amiable indulgences of our owners, I speak from conviction,--it is
better to get one or two sound drubbings in the way of experiment, than
to erect our masters as licensed savages by patiently bearing every
blow, that temper or malice can inflict. The poor Ass in question, was
quite a Spartan in his way, he stood immoveable, neither heeding the
taunts of his master, nor the impatient complaints of the party whose
pleasure he retarded.

“Why master Dawson,” said Ford--“is this the way to get any service of
this poor beast? Lend me the reins; I’ll warrant he’ll go quiet enough
with kind usage.”

“You don’t know him,” replied Dawson, “but come let’s see what you
can do with him:” and he resigned the bridle with a sneer. Ford began
by patting the Ass on the head, coaxing him, and then with a gentle
flap of the whip, ran by his side. The Donkey instantly accommodated
himself to this pace, to the no small surprise of the by-standers.
Dawson was vexed; he had been proved incompetent to manage an Ass--and
no doubt the poor fellow paid for it when we left them, which we soon
did, I, mentally eulogizing the judicious and humane Mr. Ford, with
whom I should have thought myself happy to pass the remainder of my
days. That was not to be.

But to proceed--we reached the fair, Ford during the remainder of our
journey, enforcing the policy as well as the justice of treating dumb
beasts with kindness.

“I always find my account in it,” said he, “slow and sure is my way,
and if the beast wont work with good words, why I am sure he wont with
bad.” And unloosing my harness, he gave me an excellent feed of Hay,
which tended greatly to raise my spirits and renew my strength.

The fair was excessively amusing, and might have captivated any Donkey
whose thoughts were given to the scene,--mine were intent on Balaam,
or in the event of his inability to appear in public, on Juba, whom I
resolved to meet with all possible cordiality. But a rustic Donkey is
quite a novice in a certain sphere. It is only in London, we acquire
a knowledge of life. I had never heard of penny rides in a donkey
cart,--nor knew that a dozen children might be crammed into a carriage
scarcely large enough to hold half the number conveniently. It was at
West-end fair I was feelingly taught to understand this item.

Though my master superintended these gambols, and was really very
considerate, he could not shield me from the fatigue and lassitude
attendant on such constant exertion. And as each new load I took up,
brought fresh spirits, and expected proportioned enjoyment, I dreaded,
least my failure should injure Mr. Ford. While I was anticipating
disgrace, a friendly shower of rain compelled every body to seek
shelter; and I was unloosed from the cart and placed under a canvass
shed. Here I found Juba, who like myself, looked fagged to death. I
soon discovered I was indebted to Bobby’s good offices, by the graceful
manner in which Juba met my advances--Yes, I say graceful manner, for
never surely was Ass so much improved as Juba since I saw him last. We
talked of Balaam, and I heard with delight, he was rather better that
morning. Juba described his residence, and when I found it was not much
above a mile from West-end my active mind was planning how to catch a
glimpse of my respected old friend.

Great therefore was my delight, when upon the re-appearance of
the sun, and my resumption of my toil, I heard Ford tell a friend,
he should remain at West-end till the fair was over. I weighed my
projected elopement by every bearing of gratitude, and could find none
sufficiently powerful to deter me from its prosecution. Mr. Ford was a
good man, but he was a new friend. Balaam claimed my utmost deference
and esteem; I owed him obligations innumerable; and as I fully proposed
returning to my new master, felt I was acting no dishonourable part.

Ah! how I longed for the shadows of evening to fall; when, left to
myself, I might put my design into execution! It was late ere this
happy moment arrived--and when it came, I found I should have many
difficulties to encounter. In the first place, the fair continued
to be illuminated till nearly midnight,--secondly, I was in a field
surrounded by a high bank and a well-secured gate,--and thirdly,
there were other animals besides myself within this enclosure. I
imagine that I took a short nap, for on a sudden I was startled by
some noise, and on looking around found the fair was in darkness, and
the sky spangled with stars. “This, then, is the moment,” thought I;
and creeping towards the bank, I placed my fore-feet in the earth
and peeped over. The regular snoring of a pig (as I imagined,) met
my ear,--“then I am safe,” I continued, “for dirty as these animals
are, they do not absolutely _sleep_ in ditches;” and with an agility
quite extraordinary considering the fatigue I had undergone, I reached
the summit, descended a few paces on the other side, still encouraged
by the somnific harmony of the pig, when, finding the earth moist
towards the bottom, I hesitated,--it began to give way, my feet were
sliding, and the smell of stagnant water offended my nose. Retreat
was impracticable. I recollected that the she Ass would encounter
any difficulty in behalf of her young ones, and even from attachment
to her master; and making a plunge, gained Terra Firma. Scarcely had
I time to congratulate myself on this exploit, ere I stumbled over
something soft--the snoring instantly ceased, and the voice of a man
vociferated, “Murder! thieves! help!” I took to my heels, not stopping
to take breath until out of hearing of these appalling sounds. It was
impossible to refrain from smiling at my mistake. There could be no
doubt I had taken this gentleman for a pig! But time was precious, and
I dared not indulge the mirth to which this circumstance gave rise.
Hampstead church steeple was to be my guide, the night was yet too
dark to direct me accurately; so turning to a small common in my way,
I endeavoured to cleanse myself from the contamination of the odious
ditch.

At that moment the church clock struck four,--I pricked up my ears and
followed the sound. The grey light of morn was beginning to unveil the
hill--the prospect refreshed my spirits--and as I trotted on, I could
not help rejoicing, that so pleasant a spot was the residence of the
invalid Balaam. “How surprised he will be!” would I say to myself.
“Yes, I know he will be delighted to see me, when I convince him I have
no intention to desert my present employer.” He was surprised! but I
must reserve that and another adventure for a new chapter.




CHAP. XVII.

_An Asylum._


I should have told you, Juba’s home being contiguous to the fair,
he did not sleep at West-end. This circumstance proved fortuitous
to me. It was now broad day-light, and I was impatient to snatch
a hasty interview with dear Balaam and return to Mr. Ford. I had
peeped into many enclosures, and regarded the figure of half a dozen
Donkeys without tracing any likeness to my friend, when Juba made his
appearance:--he absolutely started when he saw me.

“In the name of prudence, have you wandered hither to see Balaam?”
asked he.

I answered in the affirmative, entreating him to lead me to the old
gentleman.

“I cannot do that,” he replied; “my master has just called me to be
harnessed; but if you cross the road behind that villa,” pointing with
his chin, “behind that villa you will find Balaam: he is in good care,
and I really think looks better this morning, though I had but a slight
glimpse of him from my field. I fear you will suffer for this, Jemmy,”
he continued; “beware of the pound; and if possible retrace your path
before you are missed.”

He scampered off--while I, with similar speed, approached the white
villa. How my heart palpitated when I caught a glance of his long ears!
His figure seemed emaciated--but it was the wreck of a handsome Donkey,
graceful even in its decline. Putting my lips to the palings, I gently
repeated his name--he listened for a moment--“My dearest Mr. Balaam!”
said I--he was before me in an instant.

“Dear Jem, is it you!” he exclaimed; and we rubbed our noses together
with unrestrained affection.

“I know your situation,” he added; “Juba gave me a brief account of
your meeting yesterday; but, much as I value your friendship, my dear
fellow, I tremble for the consequences of your present truancy.”

“I shall have time to get back,” I replied. “Oh! let me enjoy the
delight of beholding you once more! How often I have thought of you I
cannot describe.”

My old friend was visibly affected by my manner, tears filled his
eyes, and for a few seconds we were silent. Just then, a tall,
elegant-looking man crossed the field, and bounding over a gate,
alighted close at my side. I must think that the finest perception
of a Donkey lies in his nose; mine was so sensibly affected on this
occasion, I scarcely knew how to express myself--every nerve was in
agitation--I felt it was my dear young master, Mr. George Manton--and
forgetting that deference Asses owe to man, ran after him, pursuing
his footsteps so steadily as to excite his notice; he turned, and I
beheld it was he; he looked at me kindly, and then proceeded. It was
not self-interest, gentle reader; there were a thousand reasons against
a man’s retaining any recollection of an Ass:--but no time or distance
could obliterate from my memory, the amiable conduct of this young man.

I continued to follow him. Touched, as I suppose, by the singularity
of my attentions, he leaned against a tree regarding me steadfastly.
I ventured to approach nearer--walked round him--and at last rubbed
my head against his sleeve. “This is very extraordinary,” said he,
musingly; “poor Caroline, if I thought this really was, or could be,
your old favourite, I would purchase him at any price.”

These words transfixed me. Whether the expression of my countenance
confirmed his suspicion, or the strong dark line which extended the
whole length of my back, and had occasioned Miss Marden to say I was
marked like a zebra--to which of these his reflections were given,
I will not determine. Suffice it to say, I was highly gratified by
his manner; convinced, that a man of his dispositions would not only
be pleased with the attachment of a dumb animal, but take delight in
cherishing his fidelity. Determined on putting my sagacity to the
test, he climbed a bank and was lost to my view: I instantly set off
at a canter, braying most sonorously. He re-appeared at a considerable
distance, and I hastened to him with all imaginable speed.

“Poor fellow,” said he, opening a gate, “I must think you know me: come
along.” I continued by his side until we reached a meadow belonging to
the beautiful white cottage: here he left me for a while, and to my
inexpressible delight, I found Balaam was my neighbour--only separated
from me by an elegant wire fence. I related my adventure--he listened
with profound attention.

“It promises well,” said he, “but you are the servant of another--who
is most probably seeking you at this moment.”

I sighed; and dreading lest Balaam should enforce the propriety of my
immediate departure, began making a few desultory inquiries respecting
the owners of the villa. He knew little of them--they were customers
of his master’s (who was a baker)--and he believed Mr. Manton to be a
relation of the family, as he often saw him playing with the children.
White bridles and smart saddles no longer engaged my vanity; but if I
could attain a service amongst children, (provided they were humane,)
it seemed the only station in which my shattered limbs could make me
moderately useful.

It would be impossible to describe my feelings during the absence of
Mr. Manton; every sound made my heart flutter.

At length he returned, accompanied by a lady and three children, two
girls and a boy.

“Now observe him, Charlotte,” said Mr. George, addressing the lady, and
walking across the field: I pursued him.

The lady laughed--declared it was extraordinary, but she united in
thinking I was the identical animal he described.

“I must go town,” continued my dear young master, “but the Donkey must
remain here; if any owner arrives, offer what you think fair--at all
events buy him: you see his legs are not sound, but he will do for the
children.”

“Thank you, cousin George,” said the children in a breath; “how nice it
will be to ride about the fields on a Donkey!”

Mr. Manton kissed them and departed.

What a revolution in my favour had a few hours produced!--My spirits
were in a state of intoxication--it was a happiness too perfect to
appear real! “Am I really at home?” said I, mentally,--“may I range this
field, drink from that clear pond, and see my dear master daily?--Oh!
this is too much!” And taking a roll on the grass, I endeavoured to
tranquillize my feelings. The equitable arrangement Mr. Manton had made
respecting my purchase, entirely quieted my conscience with regard to
Mr. Ford. He would act for my real owner, Mrs. Dawes, and I had that
opinion of Ford, that he would deal fairly by all parties. Balaam and
I had a long chat in the afternoon: it was only then I discovered the
immense ravages time had effected in the person of my friend. His
intellects were as acute as ever--but his debility was a depressing
contemplation to one who loved him as I did. “And is this venerable
animal doomed to labour!” sighed I; “ah! what a fortunate Donkey am I!”

Mr. George returned in the evening, bringing in his gig a complete
saddle and bridle for your humble servant: alas! with what distinct
feelings did I view these once desired ornaments! No Ass of common
delicacy but must be pleased to find himself decently dressed--but
it was no longer the decorations of a _handsome_ Donkey:--in fact, I
believe I should at the moment have been better pleased, had my liberal
master selected a less conspicuous garb for me. But I found I was in
error, and checked my presumptuous folly.

The distinction was a compliment to the children of his cousin, and I
was vainly ascribing it to myself.

I was soon in a state of requisition. My duties were pleasant--for
kindness and good-humour graced the little Herberts--they were truly
amiable; forcibly reminding me of the Turner family. Towards evening,
Mrs. Herbert and Mr. George walked into the field, when my master
related a circumstance which claimed my entire attention.

“I saw an enemy of this poor animal’s to-day,” said he, “but I did not
know how far he had betrayed the confidence my father reposed in him
till this morning.” He then proceeded to state, that he had been to
see Jenkins, an old servant of the doctor’s, who was under sentence
of transportation. “Like most guilty men, checked in their career of
vice,” continued Mr. George, “he reverts to his lesser crimes with the
strongest compunction; no doubt, as being the foundation of his later
turpitude, they may be considered as the primary causes of his ruin:
yet, I am apt to think, conscience suggests this sort of compromise, as
the least fearful contemplation to a guilty heart.”

“This is rather in favour of the actually penitent,” replied Mrs.
Herbert; “the being who confesses his less glaring crimes, is doubtless
well acquainted with himself; and when the law (as in this man’s case,)
does not affect his life, we may forgive him if he refrains from
criminating himself too scrupulously, provided he is resolved to turn
from his evil ways, and offer his contrition where it may and will (if
he is sincere) be accepted.”

“I suppose I thought as you do at the time,” replied Mr. George, with
a benevolent smile; “I hope the wretched man will find some comforts
provided for his voyage; I have seen the captain of the ship and given
him directions to supply him with a certain sum on his arrival at their
destined port, provided he conducts himself properly during the voyage.
He was greatly affected on seeing me; related many impositions he had
practised under our roof; and amongst others, said, he found poor
Caroline’s Donkey in the possession of a gipsy, from whom he took it,
and afterwards gave him in compensation to a man to whom he lost money
at cards. He really seemed to deplore his injustice towards my father
more than any other errors of his life.”

“No wonder,” replied Mrs. Herbert; “my uncle’s character is so
uniformly amiable, that none but the most dissolute of beings could
injure him, without feeling remorse at some future period.”

Here the conversation was suspended; but I, who had witnessed Jenkins’s
cruelty to my dear mistress, was at a loss to account for his silence
on this subject. Surely his want of duty, his unfeeling avarice towards
her, were crimes of the deepest dye! I checked this effervescence of
my zeal, and recollecting how leniently Mrs. Herbert had judged the
wretched culprit, retracted my hasty censure; not less convinced it
was presumptuous in an Ass to arraign a rational animal, than that a
rational animal must pay the forfeit of his errors even though our
verdict is withheld.

In less than a week from this epoch, my excellent Mr. George, through
the medium of an advertisement, had settled my transfer with Mr. Ford;
and I now felt secure and happy. I might say, it was only now I tasted
real happiness.--My feelings were calmed; none of those chimeras
which had mislead me in the season of health and beauty, now ruffled
my temper: nay, that very sameness in my duties, that had formerly
appeared tedious, from being suited to my present infirmities, excited
that active gratitude in my bosom which I have every reason to believe
was daily appreciated by my owners. In fact I know it was, and you
shall know my reasons for this self-assurance ere I take my leave.

It used to grieve me to see Balaam go out to work: it is true his
business was not laborious, but to my idea, he was not in a state of
convalescence when called to resume his duties; and I trembled least
a relapse should ensue. How flattering it was to my feelings, to hear
the dear old Donkey declare, my lively chit chat kept him alive. Many
a moonlight night have we loitered over our palings, each unwilling
to bid adieu. Juba, would sometimes join us, and his society was
agreeable, but as he could only give us this pleasure by stealth,
(having two or three fields to cross and the chance of finding Balaam’s
gate fastened) we were never quite sure of his company, a circumstance
that Balaam used laughingly to say gave a greater zest to his visits.

I understood the old gentleman, but had too much value for his opinions
to question their justice; he alluded to that love of adventure, which
had certainly had too much influence on my actions.

However, thinking it impossible he could again have occasion to reprove
me in this particular, I rather encouraged his cheerful sallies as
indications of improving health.

You will scarcely believe it gentle readers, but so it happened, I did
transgress again; and having announced myself a Donkey of veracity, I
suppose I must relate the fact, nor will you wonder at my prolixity in
its detail, when you learn what serious reasons I have for remembering
this my last juvenile frolic.

From the moment of my being established at Hampstead, I resolved on
writing my memoirs; but such was the deference I felt for Balaam’s
judgment, I wanted courage to apprize him of my intention; yet I was
determined to arrange my plan, trusting to some fortunate moment for
asking his advice and assistance, if possible. About this period, a
very elegant lady Ass, used to ramble down our lane every morning.
Balaam had spoken of her talents with much respect. “She has seen
the world,” said he one morning after she departed; “I don’t know,
that I ever met a more intelligent Ass.”--Now I had observed rational
beings to pay great respect to elderly females, seeming to consider
their opinions valuable, “Ah!” thinks I, “if this sensible Ass would
condescend to encourage my attempt, it might prove a passport to the
countenance of Balaam; at least there could be no harm in sounding
her on the subject.” The next evening proved auspicious to my design.
Balaam greatly fatigued retired early; one of the Miss Herberts had
left the gate open, and I sallied forth in quest of Mrs. Scamper, (for
so she was called.) Well, I wandered from enclosure to enclosure,
the night was getting dark and no Mrs. Scamper to be seen; when just
as I was preparing to return home, I thought I heard her mellifluous
bray,--I paused, stood in mute attention; but the sound died away, or
if it was repeated the sullen church clock had drowned the enchanting
harmony. How authorship affects other Animals, I know not; with me,
it was beginning to be an imperious feeling, it was my daily thoughts
and my nightly dream,--thus a confidant was absolutely necessary to
my repose, either to patronise my undertaking or repress my ambition.
With these feelings I resolved to absent myself from home this one
night,--daylight would facilitate my return, and as I was assured the
_musical_ bray I had heard could issue from none other than the amiable
Mrs. Scamper, I determined to remain near the spot till morning. A
public road, however, is no secure place for an unoccupied Donkey. I
therefore turned down a lane making my supper _en passant_. It was
nearly midnight, when stealing near some palings that enclosed a neat
modern cottage, a small gate gave way, and afforded me ingress into the
fore court. I walked leisurely over the lawn, approached the house,
when the night breeze wafted a fresh and most grateful odour under
my nose. I raised my head, and found a well-loaded Vine whose fruit
tempted my palate. I fear I was somewhat voracious in my attack; making
as free with the branches as the fruit. I had eaten half way round
the house, when I heard a whispering within. Thinks I, “it is time to
decamp;” and treading as lightly as possible, still keeping close to
the house, my ears touched a wire which communicated from a trellis
work door-frame to the house;--a bell, immediately tinkled--I took to
my heels--but ere I reached the outer gate, a gun was fired from a
window above,--it grazed my tail. I scarcely knew whether I was wounded
or not, so great was my alarm! “Thieves and Murder,” were the words
which followed this warlike defence; but I had paid too dearly for my
dessert, to wait further chastisement. I ran as though the enemy had
actually been at my heels; nor stopped till I reached the cow-house of
Mrs. Herbert. Here, I found time to reflect on my folly; but, neither
the fright I had endured, nor the injury my tail had sustained, was to
be compared to my shame at having such a tale to relate to Balaam.--“He
will think me incorrigible,” sighed I, and I wept as I anticipated
our next meeting. While I was thus the victim of self-accusation, the
cowherd approached, and unlocking the door was entering, when I thrust
by him, well knowing if I could make my way through the shed, I should
gain my own meadow. Alas! in my haste, I perceived not a bar which
crossed the interior door; the good fellow knew me, and was throwing
open the door when the bar fell on my back, and I sunk on the ground.

It was some minutes ere I could rise, and when I did, was but too
sensible I had received an incurable injury. Hobbling to my immediate
residence I threw myself on the grass, the kind cowherd following and
pitying me, in accents of the most compassionate interest. I was soon
surrounded by the dear children, whose artless expressions, and tender
caresses, at once filled me with gratitude and touched me with remorse.

“Silly Ass that I was,” said I mentally, “to be seeking patronage, when
I possessed the friendship of such disinterested beings as these!” Yet,
as my pain in some measure subsided, the excess to which my desire of
fame had exposed me, seemed an additional motive for giving publicity
to my follies. “It may warn the thoughtless Donkey,” thought I, “and
teach him to curb those aberrations of the imagination that have made
me a cripple for life.” As these reflections occupied my mind, Balaam
peeped over my fence.

“What has happened?” said he, the liveliest sympathy agitating
his aged frame.--I explained myself _ad libitum_, not omitting my
authorship propensity. Balaam looked surprised, and I really believed
entertained some doubts of my sanity; but with his usual consideration,
started no objections, simply saying, “it was not a time to talk of
mental exertion, when my bodily weakness claimed every attention
that friendship could bestow.” Dear old Donkey, yes! yours were not
professions: how would he watch my gait, and comfort me with the hope,
that time (by reconciling me to the awkwardness of my carriage, and the
slow pace I was compelled to use,) would teach me to be grateful, that
no more serious consequences had attended my inauspicious search after
patronage!




CHAP. XVIII.

_A Congress of Donkeys,--and Conclusion._


You will believe my young master was not an unmoved spectator of my
sufferings. It was on this occasion he expressed himself in terms which
at once convinced me of his humanity, and assured me, that even an Ass
by diligence and fidelity may make a lasting friend of man.

“Charles,” said Mr. George addressing master Herbert, “so long as
you condescend to ride a Donkey, I make you master of this poor
animal;--your Sisters will of course share him with you as usual, but
I give him to you. I know I can rely on your using him well, and I
recommend your preventing him from wandering, by cautiously shutting
the gates. And my dear Charlotte,” turning to Mrs. Herbert, “I have
a request to make of you,--never part with this faithful creature;
but should he become useless have him at liberty to range about the
grounds. I am persuaded you will oblige me, for you, equally with
myself, loved the dear girl to whose comfort he contributed most
materially.”

Mrs. Herbert was evidently affected by this reference to the sweet
Caroline; she willingly acceded to the request of my master, promising
she would take care of me so long as I lived.

This arrangement, threw me into raptures, and had I been as agile as
formerly, no doubt I should have evinced my joy by a thousand lively
antics; as it was, I could only look my delight; and if the eyes of
a Donkey may be allowed to look brilliant, mine certainly did on this
memorable occasion. Mr. George then turned to a livelier topic, and
with great humour described my recent frolic. It appeared, that the
gentleman on whose Vine I had regaled, was a friend of Mr. Manton’s;
they had met since the eventful night, and Mr. Crosby when reporting
the ridiculous alarm of his servants, declared he had never witnessed
a more comic scene. It seems the gardener having missed some fruit
(unknown to the family) slept with a loaded musket by his bed-side. My
munching had been heard by this vigilant gentleman; and the frequent
pulls I made at the Vine, led him to believe there must be a gang of
thieves in the garden. The tinkling of the bell, he conceived to be
unintentional on the part of the depredators;--but when I ran down the
gravel path, he thought he had his man, and fired. Mr. Crosby, whom
the report of firearms roused from his bed, instantly arose, and on
quitting his room, found the male and female servants assembled on the
landing-place.

“Depend upon it, it is that great Irishman, that said he was a
haymaker,” said one of the women. “I tell you it’s no such thing,”
replied the gardener, “it was a little short thickset man.”

“I beg your pardon Mr. Thomas, but for my part I’ve never closed
my eyes to-night, which I reckon quite miraculous, and I have been
listening for three hours or more, and at last I peeped through the
curtains, and if ever I saw a tall, black, ill-looking fellow, he was
one!”

Mr. Crosby now interfered, demanding the cause of the alarm, and who
had presumed to keep loaded fire arms without his knowledge. The
gardener excused his transgression by declaring the garden was robbed
every night.

“But where’s the groom?” asked Mr. Crosby, “I thought this musket was
in his care?”

“I begged it of him,” replied the gardener, “but Jack’s gone after the
rascals, Sir;--we shall hear some’at of ’um. He would go, there was no
hindering him, he got over the stables and dropped over the wall.”

Mr. Crosby thought fit to follow the dauntless Jack, making Thomas
(most unwillingly), his companion. It appears, they met the groom a
short distance from the house, who laughingly declared the thief to
have been a poor Donkey, which he had followed all the way to Mrs.
Herbert’s cow-house.--The gardener was not to be convinced:--he had
seen the villain, nay more, he knew he should discover traces of blood
in the morning, for he heard the fellow groan, and hobble off as if he
was wounded!

Daylight, however, brought no proof of Mr. Tom’s accuracy;--there were
no traces of blood, nor any print of a human footstep. The Vine was
stripped to a certain height all round the house, the bell-wire bent,
and the shoe-marks of some hoofed animal plentifully imprinted on the
flower beds. Mrs. Herbert’s cow-herd further corroborated the testimony
of the groom, by examining me, and discovering my tail to have been
singed. Thus the tall Irish hay-maker, and the little fat man, dwindled
into no more formidable an animal than a poor giddy Donkey, who
finding himself unexpectedly placed in the way of temptation, had not
resolution to resist its allurements.

As I listened to this whimsical fact, I could not help wondering at
the extraordinary difference there must be in the sight of men and
women, and that of Donkeys. Did all these people say what they believed
to be truth; or, did fear lead them astray? From what Mr. George
said in conclusion, it would appear, each of these persons maintain
their assertion, and though in the hearing of their master they avoid
the subject; enjoy amongst themselves that most delightful of all
predilections (with the ignorant,)--“a tale of terror.” Now if we
were to indulge such a taste, when conviction so palpably proved our
mistake, we should be called obstinate Asses. Query--What are these
gentry?

But I have done with adventures; and in this stage of my existence,
when I am pressing forward as a candidate for Donkey fame, feel all the
presumption and danger of attempting further analysis of the _human_
character.

As my spirits recovered their tone, Balaam reverted to my hints
respecting authorship. I hung my ears, and no doubt looked very silly
as he commenced his harangue. I thought my answers, however, had their
effect. He was silent for a few minutes, when, resting his nose on
my fence, as was his custom, he asked, what I anticipated from the
publication of my memoirs.

“Why, my dear Sir,” said I, “the writer who neither desires nor could
be benefited by pecuniary emolument, has some right to be considered
a disinterested scribe. I grant that our lives exhibit none of those
marvellous incidents that can amuse the romantic, but surely, if a
genuine history of a very useful animal was submitted to the public, it
might teach that public to estimate their services more agreeably to
humanity.”

“The attempt is hazardous,” replied Balaam, “in fact, my dear Jemmy, I
feel so timid on the subject, so fearful of encouraging you to do that
which may expose you to derision, I would rather you sought the advice
of some Ass better qualified to give you counsel on a matter of such
importance.”

“If you approved,” said I, despairingly, “what were the whole race of
Donkeys to me!”

“I cannot apply, for I do not deserve this compliment,” resumed
Balaam;--“however, not to dismiss the subject too abruptly, suppose
we were to convene a meeting of the best informed Donkeys of our
acquaintance, and take their opinions.--It could do no harm, and may
exonerate me from that appearance of fastidiousness which I perceive
has had its effect on your spirits.”

I denied this, but I fear rather awkwardly, for Balaam with a smile
added, “you may ride your _hobby_ yet Jem, younger heads, and more
sanguine Asses, may see this matter in a different point of view; I
think Juba must be our secretary on this occasion. Shall I depute him
to apprize our friends of your wishes?”

“My dear Sir,” I replied, “if I am not asking too much, will you allow
the committee to be assembled in your name?”

“That, is incompatible with my principles, dear Jem. It is a serious
thing to lend one’s name in a case of this nature, nor could it be
done, without in a manner, announcing me as favouring your design; and
as I at present cannot give you encouragement to prosecute your plan, I
would rather remain a neuter personage, in this stage of the business.”

“Then I must give it up altogether,” sighed I.

“By no means,” continued Balaam, “Juba shall intimate, that you have
suggested a plan, which you conceive to be beneficial to the Donkey
world at large: but that, unwilling to rely on your own judgment, you
request the presence of such of our mutual friends, as are interested
in the lives and fortunes of the Assinine community.”

“Admirable!” I exclaimed, “nothing can be better, we shall muster
pretty strong no doubt.--But my dear Sir, you will give me your
support?”

“I will broach the subject, Jemmy,” he resumed, “but recollect, it will
be with the utmost impartiality.”

“Enough, my respected friend, I feel all the value of this
condescension, and can never sufficiently express my gratitude.”

“I will imagine it to be such as I prize,” rejoined Balaam, “viz,
sincere. But now my good fellow, compose your spirits; and as
authorship is your passion, arrange your thoughts, and prepare yourself
to submit them to the ears of our committee.”

We parted, and it was now I felt all the temerity of my project.
Stretching my length upon the grass, I began (in idea,) to polish my
language, smooth my periods and according to Donkey taste, improve
my style altogether. But I found this a most unprofitable if not
an endless rumination;--what I liked one moment I rejected in the
next. “I believe I must trust a little to the imagination,” said I to
myself,--“that is, not in point of fact, but for that colouring which a
favourite subject ever receives from the fancy.”

Again, I recollected I was preparing a work expressly designed for
the juvenile world, a class of readers who demand the best efforts of
all who presume to address them; and perhaps in point of criticism,
there is not a more formidable ordeal, than that which is sometimes
instituted by these caviling young gentry. “Tush!” said I, “they cannot
expect much from an Ass, a simple, self-taught Donkey.” In short
though the sanction of the committee was yet wanting, I did not find
my scribbling mania subside, that happy leisure on which I could now
securely reckon, increased my desire of imparting my memoirs; and, when
Balaam the next evening whispered me, that I might expect the junto
at eight o’clock the ensuing night, I gave myself up to meditation
scarcely taking food or nourishment, so completely was my every feeling
absorbed in that of authorship.

At the appointed hour, I beheld the assembled group consisting of
Balaam, Mrs. Scamper, Juba, Dicky, Snap, Fairy, Hob, Bobtail, Fatima
and Vixen.--By a whimsical concurrence, Balaam’s field gate was
unclosed,--thus I, from my green fence, appeared as if placed at the
bar, before my judges. Balaam opened the sitting, in a forcible but
impartial statement of my wishes. I saw some ears particularly erect,
and Mrs. Vixen stepped forward and examined my countenance with deep
scrutiny. Balaam proceeded, without noticing this lady’s rudeness; as
he made his peroration, a silence of a few seconds ensued. Mrs. Vixen,
with a grin, was on the eve of replying, when Balaam good-naturedly
observed, “Seniority of age must have the preference,” bowing to Mrs.
Scamper.

“Then I may take a nap,” retorted Vixen, “for I believe I am the
youngest lady in the committee.”

We all smiled, well knowing madam Vixen had made an egregious mistake.
Mrs. Scamper, however, advanced towards my fence, and in a voice of
conciliating harmony, addressed me as follows:--

“If I am not misinformed, Mr. Jemmy, your proposed publication is
designed for the use and amusement of young people; then how do you
hope to benefit your species by an address to children; beings under
authority; incapable of doing us service, even were they so disposed?”

“It is with the utmost deference I venture to avow a contrary opinion,
madam,” I replied: “children of amiable manners, have much influence
in society; particularly amongst their inferiors. A well-educated child
may, in the most graceful manner, and in language at once appropriate
and kind, reprove the inhumanity of the less informed, and since
we have been appointed to the distinction of carrying ladies and
gentlemen, drawing garden-chairs, &c. &c. this sort of interference
becomes a point of some importance.”

Mrs. Scamper smiled; “I know it is a thankless office to oppose the
favourite project of an ardent mind,” said she, “but until I hear
something of your plan, and the incidents it is to comprise, I must
continue to doubt its utility.”

“I differ from you, ma’am,” interjoined Snap; “so many rational Asses
have thrust their histories on the public, I can see no reason for
preventing a _genuine_ Ass from telling his own story.”

There was such an emphasis laid on the word genuine by this petulant
Donkey, that I really rejoiced Madam Luna denied us her beams; I felt
that I blushed profusely, and had not the gentle voice of Fatima
rallied my aroused feelings, I believe I should have retorted.

“Mr. Jemmy,” said the charming Fatima, “I applaud your intention, and
sincerely hope you will carry it into execution: allow me to ask, if
you propose to make your work a general or an individual memoir?”

“Individual, madam,” I replied, “but interspersed with anecdote and
observations.”

“Ah!” she resumed, “to be sure you are the best judge; yet I must think
our genus, from its antiquity and the honourable mention made of us in
the best and most valuable of records, offers a wide field for exalting
us in the estimation of the present generation.”

Here old Balaam drew nearer the fence, evidently desirous of attending
to my reply.

“My dear madam,” said I, “I was fully aware of this, and would gladly
have availed myself of testimonials so irrefragably convincing and
distinguished; but we are no longer the animals we were! The horse has
superseded us! Our very name is a by-word amongst the vulgar! And, our
occupations, (though varying in laboriousness as in respectability,)
yet expose us so much to the ludicrous, that I would rather forbear
from quoting the proofs you mention, than blend them with matter
irreverent.”

“But, Jem,” interjoined Balaam, “as you would turn author in the
service of children, how can you reconcile this omission?”

“Sir,” I replied, “the children for whom my humble efforts would
be exerted, must of course have some acquaintance with the Sacred
Writings; and it is from them I should expect that blending of
authentic record and individual history, that might ultimately prove
beneficial to my species.”

“You have my free assent from this moment,” rejoined Balaam; “it was
this one point which led me to oppose your scheme. I will hope your
reasoning is just, for it is agreeable to principle--and that view of
the human character, it has ever been my wish to entertain.”

“So then,” exclaimed Mrs. Vixen, “you expect great things from your
undertaking! Well, vanity is a fine dream, till we wake and find it
_but_ a dream.”

“We shall never get a blow less, nor an additional mouthful of hay, for
all the wisest of Donkeys could say in our favour,” sneered Snap.

“I think I saw you once in Kent, Mr. Jemmy,” resumed Mrs. Vixen, “at
the Tunbridge Races. You may remember my husband won the saddle. You
must have been very nervous at that time; it quite surprised my friends
to see you frightened by a _penny trumpet_--ha! ha! ha!”

“Madam,” I replied, “I have not forgotten the circumstance: the penny
trumpet shall be duly mentioned in my memoirs; I will neither increase
its size, nor enhance its value; nor will I omit to name Mr. Vixen’s
talents as a racer.”

It was in this stage of my examination that Juba stepped forward.

“I do not pretend to know any thing of books or histories of any kind,”
said he; “but if you do publish your life, Jemmy, do not forget to say
something of Donkey prejudices and Donkey satire.”

It is clear he alluded to Mrs. Vixen, and I was alarmed lest the junto
should squabble amongst themselves, and prematurely dissolve the
meeting.

“It was my firm intention to be just,” I replied; “and if a Donkey may
pledge his honour, I here declare, I will not

    --“‘Extenuate, nor aught set down in malice.’”

“Then now, Mr. Jem,” said Hob, “give us a brief sketch of your intended
history.”

I complied--but not without considerable embarrassment: my situation
was in truth very trying. To see so many long ears stretched to catch
my accents--to hear two or three (as I thought) dissentient snorts,
as certain observations escaped my lips--how I got through my task,
even at this moment appears extraordinary. Yet I accomplished it, and
obtained a majority.

Bobtail, who was of a phlegmatic character, astonished us all
by entering into the spirit of my memoirs. “What you say of
soot-carrying,” said he, “is strictly true; I could almost have
fancied the odious powder was under my nose: yes, I know what it is to
carry bags, and chimney-sweepers too.”

Dicky and Miss Fairy evinced little interest during the first part
of the discussion; but perceiving they whispered, I thought it
possible timidity restrained them from offering an opinion. Therefore,
addressing myself to Miss Fairy, I begged she would favour me with her
sentiments.

“Indeed I have no opinion to give,” she replied, petulantly; “Mr. Dicky
and I to be sure, have remarked, that you have said very little of the
beauty of lady Asses, though one ought not to be offended at that; for
some Donkeys are too much taken up with themselves to think of any
thing else.”

This was a terrible attack upon a Donkey who had the highest respect
for the fair sex.

“Madam” I rejoined, “I trust those who know me will exonerate me from
the imputation of being insensible to the worth of the female Ass.
If my memoir enters more largely into the sufferings of Donkeys, it
is, because I hope and believe, excessive labour and hard usage are
more particularly their lot. Of the utility and worth of our feminine
friends, none but an illiterate Ass could entertain a doubt. That I
have not attempted the language of the flatterer, is a point on which I
pride myself; for though this style is said to be a favourite one with
_Asses_, I have not availed myself of the privilege,--not less cautious
of injuring the morals of my own class, than fearful of appearing as
the copyist of a higher order of animals.”

The committee now dispersed; and Balaam with an impressive adieu
retired to repose.

I saw the dear old Ass go out to his accustomed work next morning,
and, occupied by my own projects, night again revolved ere the claims
of friendship refreshed my memory. Nine, ten, eleven o’clock--and no
Balaam. I lingered near the fence, cheating the tedious minutes by a
thousand vague conjectures; at length, wearied with watching, I sunk
into a light slumber, from which I was awakened by the well-known voice
of Juba; it was day-break, and a cold rainy morning.

“Jemmy,” said my friend Juba, “you have been alarmed by the absence of
our poor Balaam?”

“Yes, indeed, Juba, most seriously alarmed.”

“Alas!” he resumed, “our anxiety on his account is at an end--you will
see him no more--the excellent Balaam is dead.”

“Dead!” I exclaimed; “tell me when and where he died.”

“It happened yesterday morning; I overtook his master in
Tottenham-Court Road; our old friend lay extended quite senseless, and
by what I heard from the crowd, his death was occasioned by a fit.”

This melancholy intelligence affected me deeply; I had lost my early
counsellor, my constant friend; and the only consolation now left me,
was to talk of him, an indulgence in which Juba feelingly participated.

One evening, after having enjoyed this luxury, my mind yet dwelling on
his virtues, the following tribute to his memory escaped me:--


_To the Memory of Balaam._

    If ever Donkey claim’d the meed of fame,
    Balaam! that honour should adorn thy name;
    Born to do credit to thy helpless race,
    In thee each virtue of the Ass we trace;
    Patient, submissive, moderate in food,
    Shaming the vicious, inspiring the good;
    Thy bright example should for ever give
    Rules, to succeeding Donkeys, how to live;
    But, if inconstant feelings lead astray,
    And, Asses yet, in Folly’s mazes bray,
    One grateful convert shall thy worth proclaim,
    And cherish virtue in thy much-loved name.

  JEMMY.

Effusions of this description can never be generally interesting. The
parties should be known to each other in order to excite that pleasing
sympathy so soothing to friendship. As such, I shall freely forgive my
readers though they criticise my poetic talents. I can only say, Juba
applauded my little offering, and having a taste for recitation, has
frequently gratified me by repeating them, with a pathos which had an
excellent effect, according to my Donkey conception.

Shall I experience similar indulgence from my rational censors?
Alas! I tremble at the idea of what may be my fate: yet, surely, the
intentions of an author should have some weight with his readers, and
mine, I boldly declare, are humane. I know that every living thing
has feeling--that from man, who “walks erect and can contemplate the
heavens,” to the “beetle that we tread upon,” each can feel;--that the
great Disposer of the Universe hath placed his intelligent creatures
above all the other works of his mighty hand: he has invested you with
power, but that power must be tempered with mercy, or ye are no longer
the servants in whom he will be “well pleased.”

If you have laughed with me through some of the preceding pages, let
me hope you will not reject a brief admonition at the close of my
literary attempt:--I positively assert, that I am a patriotic Ass;
love my country, respect her laws, and take a lively interest in her
prosperity; and though I stand up in the defence of my own class, I
presume to think, the object I have in view does not, in the smallest
degree, implicate us as a body. We are willing to give you our labour,
submit to your guidance, and in all respects conduct ourselves as
faithful servants, and the only return we ask is _kindness_--the
simple offices of humanity. Would it were in my power to impart to
your species a small portion of that habitual patience with which we
are endowed! convinced as I am, that we more frequently suffer from
the hasty temper than the actual insensibility of our masters. To the
readers of my adventures I trust it will be sufficient to add,--that
should any dumb animal fall under their temporary displeasure, I hope
they will pause ere they deform themselves by cruelty, and bestow
a thought on one who, having “felt persecution,” conceived himself
qualified to implore mercy--one who, while he allows his fallibility as
an Ass, has no hesitation in declaring himself,

                   The most respectful

                       And humble of Donkeys,

                               JEMMY.

  HAMPSTEAD, MIDDLESEX,
   _October 29th, 1814_.


THE END.




  A LIST
  OF IMPROVED BOOKS, &c.
  FOR
  CHILDREN,

  RECENTLY PUBLISHED
  BY
  WILLIAM DARTON, JUN.
  58, HOLBORN HILL,
  (OPPOSITE ELY PLACE,)
  LONDON.


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By Wm. Wiseacre, Esq. price 1s 6d half bound

43 _The Baby’s Holiday_, to which is added, the _White Lily_. By Mary
Belson, Author of several popular Works, 1s coloured plates

44 _The First Step to Knowledge_; being an easy Introduction to the
various English Spelling-Books. By the Rev. J. Goldsmith. 28th Edition,
price 6d

45 _The Geographical Primer_; designed for the Younger Classes
of Learners, and calculated to advance them, by natural and easy
Gradations, to a perfect acquaintance with the Elements of the Science;
with an Appendix, containing Fourteen Hundred Questions on the
principal Maps. By J. H. Wiffen. 18mo. 3s bound

46 _The Invited Alphabet_, or, Address of A to B; containing his
friendly proposal, for the Amusement and Instruction of good Children.
With twenty-five Engravings on Copper-plates, price 1s 6d

47 _The Assembled Alphabet_, or, Acceptance of A’s Invitation;
concluding with a Glee for Three Voices. Being a Sequel to the “Invited
Alphabet,” with elegant Copper-plate Engravings, price 1s 6d

48 _Infantile Erudition_; concluding with a Glee for Three Voices: to
which are added, the Figure Dancers. The whole intended as a Supplement
to the “Invited” and “Assembled” Alphabets: illustrated with beautiful
Copper-plates, price 1s 6d

49 _Divine and Moral Songs_ for the Use of Children, by Isaac Watts D.
D. With many Plates price 6d

50 _Franklin’s Way to Wealth_, or, Poor Richard Improved; to which is
added, “How to make _Much of a Little_,” earnestly recommended to the
Industrious Poor; also “Alphabetical Maxims,” worthy the remembrance
and regard of all. An entire new Edition, with several Copper-plates,
by Bob Short, price 6d

51 _A New and Entertaining Alphabet_, for Young Children; where some
Instruction may be gained, and much Amusement. Embellished with
twenty-six Engravings, price 6d

52 _Harry and his Mother_; a Monitory Tale, intended chiefly for Youth.
By W. Parr, with many Copper-plates and wood Engravings, price 1s

53 _A Nosegay for the Trouble of Culling_; or, Sports of Childhood,
with many cuts, price 1s

54 _Simple Truths_, in Verse; intended for the Amusement and
Instruction of Children at an early Age. By Mary Belson, 18mo. half
bound, price 1s 6d

55 _Biographical Sketches of Eminent British Characters_; containing
the Life and Character, Labours and Actions of several British
Worthies, accompanied with several Portraits, price 6d

56 _A First or Mother’s Dictionary for Children_; containing upwards
of Three Thousand Eight Hundred Words, which occur most frequently
in Books and Conversation; simply and familiarly explained and
interspersed throughout with occasional remarks: the whole adapted to
the capacities of Younger Pupils. By Anna Brownwell Murphy, 18mo. price
4s 6d bound

57 _Innocent Poetry_, for Infant Minds, by the author of “Industry and
Idleness,” and “Precept and Example,” fourth edition, considerably
improved, with several Copper-plates, price 1s

58 _Industry and Idleness_, a pleasing and instructive Tale for Good
Little Girls, in words not exceeding two syllables. A new edition,
corrected, price 1s

59 _A School Dictionary_, or Entick’s English Dictionary, abridged, and
adapted to the use of Schools; containing only the roots of words, and
those of importance and utility, and omitting derivative, obsolete,
vulgar and unusual words. By the Rev. David Blair, author of the “First
or Mother’s Catechism,” third edition, with numerous improvements,
price 3s bound

60 _An Outline of Scripture History_; with an Introduction to the
Church Catechism, by A Lady for the use of her Children, price 6d

61 _Precept and Example_, or Midsummer Holidays; to which is added, the
_Mother’s Reward_, or Christmas Holidays, a new edition improved. By
Mary Belson, author of “The Orphan Boy,” price 1s 6d half bound

62 _The Royal Museum_, or Picture-Book, containing a large number of
engraved subjects, price 6d


PENMANSHIP.

_Executed by the best Masters, and beautifully Engraved._

63 Large Text Copies, several sorts, 6d each

64 Round Text ditto                   ditto

65 Round Hand ditto, various 6d each

66 Small Hand ditto           ditto

67 Running Hand ditto         ditto

68 Geographical Small Hand Copies, quite new, price 6d each

69 Scripture Selections, various sorts, in Running Hand, 6d each

70 A complete Collection of Ciphers, in Two Parts, 6d each Part

71 Select Pieces on various Subjects, in plain and ornamental
Penmanship, price 6d each

72 German Text Copies, price 6d

73 Roman Print Copies,   ditto

74 Engrossing Copies, or Modern Law Penmanship, price 6d

75 _Round Hand Exercise Copies_, to accompany Grammatical,
Geographical, Historical, and other Exercises, price 6d

76 _Round Hand Exercise Copies_, to accompany French Exercises and
Translations, so arranged, that the pupil may, at one glance, find any
letter he wants as well as monosyllables in common use, price 6d

77 _Holiday Piece-Book_, ornamented, containing blanks for the pupil to
fill up, price 1s. 6d

78 _A new Geographical Chart_, for the use of Schools and private
Students, designed and written by W. Thackwray, Walworth, price 1s 6d.
With a Key to ditto

79 _A Chronological Table_, containing the succession of the Kings of
England, from the Conquest to the present time. Designed and written by
W. Thackwray, Walworth, price 1s 6d. With a Key to ditto, 6d

80 _Ten Alphabets_, consisting of German Text, Old English, Roman
Print, Italic Print, and Engrossing, price 3d

This beautiful, engraved 4to Sheet is a useful reference for Schools,
Painters, Engravers and Sculptors, and cannot be obtained in any other
form without purchasing expensive publications; beside the convenience
of displaying the whole under one view in a small compass, at a very
trifling charge.


CARDS.

81 _Instructive Conversation Cards_, consisting of thirty-two
Biographical Sketches of eminent British Characters, in a neat Case,
price 2s

82 _Instructive Conversation Cards_, containing a Description of
thirty-two of the most distinguished Places in England, price 2s in a
neat case

83 _Poetical Looking-Glass_, or entertaining and instructive Mirror for
Young Ladies and Gentlemen. By Bob Short, price 1s

84 _Trades on Cards_, with many copper-plate Engravings, price 1s

85 _Quadrupeds on Cards_, for the Instruction and Amusement of Youth in
the study of Natural History, price 1s

86 _Sixteen Cards in Natural History_, with entertaining Descriptions
and many Engravings, price 1s

87 _An entire new Pack of Puzzle Cards_, for the entertainment of young
people, by a Friend to Innocent Mirth, price 1s

88 _Practical Multiplication Cards_, on a plan adapted to render the
study of Arithmetic easy, price 1s


GAMES.

89 _Newton’s New Game of Virtue Rewarded and Vice Punished_, for the
Amusement of Youth of both sexes; on Canvas, with a Case and Tetotum,
Counters and Pyramids, complete, price 9s

90 _Newton’s New Game of the Mansion of Bliss_; on Canvas, with
Tetotum, Counters and Pyramids, complete, price 9s

91 _The Seven Puzzles_, on Canvas, in Case, designed for the
entertainment of a Winter’s Evening, price 2s 9d

92 _Walker’s New Geographical Game_, exhibiting a Tour through Europe,
on Canvas, and in Case, with Tetotum and Counters, complete, price 6s

93 _Walker’s Game of England and Wales_, a new Geographical Pastime, on
Canvas, and in Case, with Tetotum, Counters, &c. complete, price 6s

94 _Walker’s Tour through Ireland_, a new Geographical Pastime, price 6s

95 _Walker’s Tour through Scotland_, a new Geographical Pastime, price
6s


DISSECTED MAPS

_Are submitted to the Notice of Schools, and those who have the care of
Youth, as affording them useful information, blended with amusement,
all of which are of Mahogany, and will not warp, and warranted perfect._

  _England and Wales_, price 3s 6d
  _The Same_,                7s 6d
  _The Same_,               10s 6d
  _Europe_,                  3s 6d
  _The Same_,                7s 6d
  _The Same_,               10s 6d
  _The World in Hemispheres_, price 5s
  _The Same_, price 7s 6d
  _The Same_, price 10s 6d

_And every other kind of Dissected Maps, at various prices, according
to their size._


THE FOLLOWING WHOLE SHEET MAPS ARE CLEARLY ENGRAVED AND COLOURED, PRICE
6d EACH.

  1 Western Hemisphere, or New World
  2 Eastern ditto, or Old World
  3 Europe
  4 Denmark
  5 Sweden, Denmark and Norway
  6 Russia in Europe
  7 Russian Empire
  8 Scotland
  9 England
  10 United Kingdom of England, Scotland and Ireland
  11 Ireland
  12 France
  13 Holland
  14 Poland and Prussia
  15 Netherlands
  16 Germany
  17 Switzerland
  18 Hungary
  19 Spain and Portugal
  20 Italy
  21 Turkey in Europe
  22 Ditto in Asia
  23 China
  24 East Indies
  25 Persia
  26 Asia
  27 Hindostan
  28 Africa
  29 North America
  30 United States of America
  31 West Indies
  32 South America
  33 Arabia
  34 Egypt
  35 Greece
  36 Mercator’s Chart of the World
  37 Romanum Imperium
  38 Græcia Antiqua

96 A new whole Sheet _Map of England and_ _Wales_, by Mr. Brooks, with
the whole of the Turnpike and other Roads, laid down with great care,
being a complete Traveling Companion, price 3s 6d

97 Ditto ditto in a neat Case for the Pocket, price 5s

98 _Ward’s Plan of London_, on a sheet, coloured, price 1s, and with
the East and West India and London Docks, price 1s 6d

99 Ditto on Canvas in a Case for the pocket, without the Docks, price
2s 6d

100 Ditto ditto with Docks in Case, price 3s 6d


DISSECTED PUZZLES.

_Goldsmith’s Deserted Village_, illustrated with very neat Engravings.
The Poem is handsomely engraved on copper, and will be found a
curiosity, well adapted for the purposes of a present, price 8s

_Price_ 4s 6d _each_,

  _My Father_, with coloured plates,
  _My Mother_,              ditto
  _My Sister_,              ditto
  _My Brother_,             ditto
  _My Bible_,               ditto
  _My Governess_,           ditto
  _My Son_,                 ditto
  _My Daughter_,            ditto
  _My Childhood_,           ditto
  _My Pony_,                ditto

The Poem of _Gratitude_, with coloured Plates

The Infant’s Pastoral Hymn, called _My Shepherd_, or the Lambkin’s
Confession.

WITH A LARGE ASSORTMENT OF OTHERS, FROM ONE SHILLING AND SIXPENCE TO
EIGHT SHILLINGS.


SCHOOL BOOKS

_Of most kinds are also kept, and Schools supplied on the usual Terms._

* * _A Quantity of Damaged Books to be Sold Cheap._
 *



Transcribers’ Note


Words in _italics_ are marked with underscores.

Words in smallcaps are shown in UPPERCASE.

The description of the frontispiece, shown in braces is the
transcriber’s own.

Archaic spellings have been retained; as have some non-standard
spellings, where they either occur several times, or were common at the
date the book was written.

Missing punctuation has been silently inserted, as have missing spaces
between words.

Misplaced punctuation has been silently moved.

Commas at the end of paragraphs have been changed to full stops.

There were several instances of the last word of a line being repeated
at the start of the next. The repeated words have been removed.

Inconsistent hyphenation has been retained.

Tangible typographic errors have been corrected silently.

Other changes that have been made are:

Page 33: In ‘he would not have said a word about what passed in the
field’ “passed” was printed “pas-” at the end of a line.

In the list of books at the end of this book, in “23 _The Wonders of
the Horse_ ... By JOSEPH TAYLOR” the author’s surname was originally
not shown in smallcaps.



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