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 l