NEDDY

The Autobiography of a Donkey

Copyright, 1905 By H. M. Caldwell Co. COLONIAL PRESS Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co. Boston, U.S.A.

PREFACE

The leading incident of this autobiography of a donkey actually occurred, and the scene at the police station was described by the Times newspaper in London at the time of the trial. Two others are taken from a French source.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

[Pg 11]

CHAPTER I. NEDDY’S EARLIEST RECOLLECTIONS

[Pg 13]

NEDDY

CHAPTER I.

MY EARLIEST RECOLLECTIONS—I FIND MY MOTHER RATHER A DULL COMPANION—I MAKE FRIENDS WITH OLD THOMAS—THE RETURN OF MY MASTER’S FAMILY—MY FIRST INTERVIEW WITH MY DEAR MISTRESS—ANNIE AND I BECOME GREAT FRIENDS.

This is the Story of a Donkey written by himself! It is not the first time that such an indiscretion has been committed, and doubtless it will not be the last. And, indeed, if I did not think I had something pleasant to tell, I would not trespass upon your patience; but now, as in my old age I quietly graze through the summer days in my pleasant green field, or keep myself [Pg 14]warm in my comfortable winter shed, I often think over my past career; and it seems to me to have been so full of strange events that I am induced to jot down some of its most stirring incidents, in the hope that, while my faults may be a warning to some, the good resulting from an earnest desire to do my duty may be a comfort and encouragement to all.

My first recollection is of lying quietly down by my mother’s side on the soft green grass of a large field. Very pleasant it looked to me, as I lay there under the shadow of a great oak-tree, and looked out upon the sunshiny landscape; and I thought I should never be tired of being there quite still, and admiring all the wonderfully beautiful objects which met my eyes whichever way they turned.

But as soon as I began to grow a little stronger, this state of inaction became tiresome. My curiosity was aroused to see what there might be beyond my own little world; and many a frisk I took away from my mother’s side, to peep over a hedge into another [Pg 15]field, and amuse myself by looking at some animals very different from ourselves, which my mother said were cows; but I did not admire their shape so much as I did our own; and, as to their horns, I did not think them half so pretty as our ears. Then, when I had looked at the cows till I was tired, off I would gambol to where an iron fence separated our field from a long sloping lawn, bright with beds of many-coloured flowers. Every day I seemed to spy out something more beautiful than before; and I would gallop back to my mother, and ask her to come and look too, and tell me what was the name of this or that wonderful new thing.

But my mother was not of so adventurous a spirit; or perhaps she was getting old, and did not like to be troubled with my endless questions. She was very ready to tell me what little she knew; but she was not the least desirous of increasing her own stock of knowledge.

“Ah, my son!” she would say sometimes, as she gave her ears a melancholy shake, [Pg 16]“I foresee there is a great deal of unhappiness in store for you. Why must you always be spying into that which does not concern you? Why are you not content to stay quietly by your mother’s side? When you are my age you will know the wisdom of just simply enjoying your tuft of grass, or drink of water, without troubling your head as to what the rest of the world are doing.”

“Very likely,” I replied, with a kick of disdain, for I was a pert young donkey from my earliest years; “but as I am not so old as you are by a long way, you need not expect that I should consider munching grass from morning to night is the perfection of happiness. I want to know what life is, and what goes on beyond this field. I declare I get sick to death of hearing you munch, munch, munch, as if you had not a thought beyond your nose.”

“Ah, my son!” said my mother, sadly, “you will know what life is soon enough, never fear, and what work is, and poor fare, and hard blows; and then, when your back [Pg 17]aches, and your sides are sore, you will remember your mother’s words, and think that, if you could but get back again into this pleasant field, you would trouble yourself very little with what is going on in the outer world.”

For a moment I was silent. Work, poor fare, and hard blows were not pleasant-sounding words. I had never heard them before, and began to wonder what they meant; but my mind was suddenly distracted by a sound behind the hedge; off I scampered to see what it might be, and, by the time I came back to my mother’s side, I had forgotten the expressions that had alarmed me, and was as full of tricks and gambols as I had been before.

But though my mother was not fond of conversation, I gathered, from words which she would occasionally let fall, sufficient to make me understand that we belonged to a gentleman of good property; that my mother’s business was to draw his wife in a little carriage, she being in delicate health; and when I asked why I had never seen [Pg 18]her doing this, she told me the family had all been away for some time, but that she should be glad when they came home again, for they were all very kind to her, and often brought her some nice things, such as a carrot, or some cabbage leaves, or occasionally even a small feed of grain.

The idea of these dainties made my mouth water, and I began to be as impatient as my mother for the return of my master’s family, hoping that I, too, might come in for a share in her good fortune. So anxious was I to know when they were coming that at length my incessant teasing became unbearable to my mother, and she angrily told me “to go and ask that old man on the lawn there, for he was the only person the least likely to be able to gratify my curiosity.”

It was very easy to say, “Ask,” but how was I to make him understand what I wanted to know? Not but that we were very good friends. I had made his acquaintance some time ago, during one of my visits to the iron fence which shut me out from my favourite flower-garden. At [Pg 19]first, when he had come near me, I was much frightened, and scampered away as hard as I could; but he called out so pleasantly, “Wo—so ho, little Neddy!” that, though I did not know that was my name, I was sure he meant me, and so I summoned up courage to turn around and look him in the face. And a very kind face it was; and he held out his hand so coaxingly that I was induced to come a few steps forward; but then my heart misgave me, and I took two bounds back.

“Whoo! little Neddy—whoo!” said the kind voice again. “Sure Thomas will not hurt you. Come, my little man; come and be scratched.”

Such an invitation was irresistible. Again I turned, walking a few steps toward my new acquaintance; then I stopped.

“Come! come!” said the voice again; and I made a few steps more in advance. Again I heard myself encouraged; and now I had approached near enough, by stretching out my neck, to smell whether there was any mischief in the hand that was [Pg 20]stretched out toward me. No; all seemed safe; and the hand was held steady till I had been able to sniff all around it, and satisfy myself that no harm was intended me. Then the hand was gently raised to my head, and the pleasantest sensation I had ever felt in my life passed through my whole body. Oh, how soothing, how delightful was that rubbing and scratching! and I browsed against my new friend, and looked up in his face, as much as to say: “Oh, do it again! please, do it again!”

“What! you like it, little Neddy; you like it, do you?” said the kind voice. “Ah! I thought we should soon be friends.”

Friends I should think we were. From that day forth I was always on the lookout for Old Thomas; and no sooner did I see him come on to the lawn than I would gallop up to the iron fence, kick up my heels, and bray out my welcome in my loudest voice—though, by the way, I soon began to perceive that this was not the most pleasing style of address to my friend.

“There, Neddy, there,” he would say; [Pg 21]“that is quite enough of that noise. Be quiet; do.”

At first, I must confess, my vanity was much hurt; I felt inclined to turn my back and take no further notice of my friend; but I was soon sensible that I should be the loser by such folly; and so, wisely endeavouring to alter my mode of salutation, I rubbed my nose against the iron fence, and made the softest and most whinnying tones of which my voice was capable. It had the desired effect. Old Thomas evidently saw that I had got the better of my little tempers, and was trying my best to be pleasant; and so he would put down his rake or his hoe, or leave the flowers he was tying up, and bring me a few carrots, or an apple or two, or something equally good; and, as he was feeding me, he would say, kindly:

“Ah, little Neddy, you are a good-hearted little beast! full of spirits, but not a bit of vice about you; and you will be a rare beauty one of these days, that you will. How my young missus will admire you!”

[Pg 22]

And then I would rub myself against his hand, and look up in his face, as much as to say:

“Who is young missus? Tell me.”

And so, by degrees, as I say, we had grown quite intimate, and I could understand almost everything Thomas said to me; but I was grieved to find he did not comprehend my meaning so easily; so that it was very difficult to get an answer to what I wished to ask him. Sometimes he would say:

“Why, Neddy, you have got such intelligent eyes, you look almost as if you could speak. I wonder what you have got to say to me. Is it more carrots you want, eh, Neddy?” and he would hold out a carrot so close to my mouth that, though that was not what I wanted at all, for the life of me, I could not resist the temptation of eating it; and so Thomas misunderstood my meaning, and went away, thinking, perhaps, what a greedy little donkey I was, while all the time I was only seeking for instruction and information. Ah, well! I have [Pg 23]listened since then to what many a man has said of his neighbour or his friend, and I have come to the conclusion it is not only donkeys whose earnest longings after truth must remain ungratified, and whose best actions are liable to be misinterpreted. If man cannot understand his fellow men, no wonder he knows very little of what we are thinking.

On that day when my mother was angry with me for teasing her, and told me to be off and ask Old Thomas, I felt piqued and angry.

“Who knows,” thought I, “perhaps I can make him tell me, and then there will be a triumph, for mother only sends me to him because she is cross, and because she thinks I shall never be able to find out.” So, putting on my most pleasing manners,—for we can all seem to be very good-humoured when we have got any end to gain by it, however cross we feel inside all the while,—I galloped up to the iron fence, and began whinnying in my most engaging tones. It was not long before I attracted [Pg 24]the notice of Thomas, who, looking up from his work, said, in his usual kind tone:

“Ah, little Neddy, you are come, are you? I have nothing for you to-day.”

Now, though I quite understood this disappointing announcement, I was not one bit more inclined to go away. I had come for a particular purpose, and I was determined to accomplish it, if possible. Our race have the character of being obstinate; and, though I like to dignify it by the name of perseverance, I suppose I am no better than the rest of my species. Anyway, I began a series of gambols, such as generally succeeded in bringing Old Thomas to my side; but in vain. I kicked my best kicks, gambolled around in circles, pricked up my ears, and even tried a short, very short, bray. It was all to no purpose. Thomas went steadily on with his work, paying no attention to all my tricks. At length, sick of an exhibition which attracted no admirers, I was on the point of returning to my mother’s side, very much out of humour, when suddenly I saw Thomas leave off work for [Pg 25]an instant, and, resting on his spade, he looked toward me. This was encouragement enough; and again drawing near the fence, I began rubbing my nose against it more wistfully than before.

“Poor little Neddy!” he said, as he walked slowly up to me; “you will soon have a better playfellow than I am.”

I pricked up my ears at these words. “Ah!” thought I, “now it is coming.”

“You see I have no time to waste with you to-day, Neddy,” continued Thomas. “I have got to get the place to rights. The master’s coming home. Can you understand that, Neddy?”

Understand it? Of course I could; and I rubbed my head against Thomas’s hand to ask him to go on.

“And when he comes, he must not see so much as a leaf out of its place,” said Thomas. “No bits of carrots left by the fence, my little donkey. But it is not long you will be left without a bite of summat, I guess. When Miss Annie sees you, I am very much mistaken if she does not give [Pg 26]you more than ever Old Thomas did. You will forget your old friend then, maybe, Neddy.”

Now somehow, though his voice sounded sorrowful as he said these words, I was so overjoyed at having made the discovery that the family were returning that I paid no heed to Thomas’s grief. My only thought was to get back to my mother, and tell her the news as fast as possible. So, breaking from the kind hand that was stroking me, I turned hastily away.

“Ah, it is just like ’em all!” I heard Old Thomas say. “Men and beasts, they be much alike; they will come fast enough if they think you have got anything for them; and then, when they have got all they can, off they go like a shot, without so much as a ‘Thank ye.’”

I hardly noticed the words then. I was very young, very conceited, and much spoiled; but I have often thought of them since, when I have known what it was to have my own heart well-nigh broken by the unkindness of others. Ah me! it is all very [Pg 27]well for old folks to preach. The young ones will never pay a whit more heed to anything we may say than we did to our fathers. Every one must buy his experience for himself. Happy he who pays least dearly for it!

A day or two after my last conversation with Thomas, as I was frisking about the field, feeling in more than usually high spirits, I suddenly heard a voice exclaim:

“Oh, look, look, papa! Did you ever see such a little darling?”

My natural self-sufficiency leading me instantly to suppose that this term could apply to no other than myself, I turned immediately in the direction of the speaker, and for a moment stood astonished as I saw a beautiful little girl running toward me. Whether it was that she came so fast toward me, or whether it was that she was so unlike Thomas, or anything I had ever seen before, I cannot say; but a panic seized me, and without waiting to give a second look, I galloped off, and never stopped till I found myself safely by the side of my [Pg 28]mother. Then I took courage to look up, and saw that my pursuer had also given up the chase.

Finding this was the case, and emboldened also by seeing that my mother showed no sign of alarm, I peeped out again, and then went a few steps in advance.

“Gently, Annie, gently, my love,” I heard the elder person say. “Do not frighten the little thing. Let us find it something to eat; it will come then.”

“Oh, yes, papa! Thomas says it comes up every day to be fed. I will run and fetch some carrots; may I?”

Permission being given, off ran the little girl, and by the time she returned, I had sufficiently mastered my emotion to approach with a tolerable degree of self-possession. Still, it was not without considerable alarm that I saw Annie come inside the fence, and walk up to where I was standing; and I confess I should have been glad to have had a protection between us. I dare say you think this was very silly; and so it was. But can you never remember, kind [Pg 29]reader, the time when your faults or your follies made you wish to keep the fence between your best friend and yourself? However, this was the last time I ever committed such a mistake with Annie.

From that day forward we became the best of friends. I never was so happy as when I was with her, and few days passed without two or three visits from her. Sometimes she would coax me back with her to the house, and even take me with her into one of the sitting-rooms.

But I did not like those visits, and always escaped from them when I could. It was quite contrary to my nature to behave with the degree of quiet propriety which was necessary in society. My mistress schooled and taught me to the best of her ability, and I did what I could to follow her instructions; but I am afraid I was not at all an apt scholar. I never felt at my ease in a room fitted up with all sorts of strange, queer-looking things, of which I did not understand the use, and which I always dreaded I should knock down and destroy, and so [Pg 30]get into disgrace; and I took pains to show her I only came into the house to obey her, and not from any wish of my own. I think she understood me, for she would often say, in her kind, caressing way:

“Oh, Neddy! you like being out in the fields, frisking about, better than coming into the drawing-room. I can see that plainly enough. But, Neddy, you must remember you must learn to behave like a well-bred little donkey; for if you spend all your life frisking about on the grass, you will grow up so ignorant that I shall be quite ashamed of you. And, after all, you are much better off than I am. I sit for hours, and hours, and hours, quite still, learning my lessons, and you—you stupid little thing!—you are tired if you stand still for five minutes together. Ah, Neddy! you have a great deal to learn before your education is finished.”

And so I had, though I did not know it then; and, like a thoughtless little creature as I was, I did not trouble my head about what was to take place in the future,—perfectly [Pg 31]content to go gambolling about in the enjoyment of the happy present.

Those were pleasant times, and my memory likes to go back to them. It is astonishing how fond the old are of recalling the enjoyments of their young days; and perhaps they are a little apt to forget that what is so very pleasant to themselves is rather tedious to others; so I shall keep the remembrance of the first three happy years of my life for my own consolation, and pass rapidly on to the more stirring part of my existence.

[Pg 33]

CHAPTER II. NEDDY’S FIRST LESSON

[Pg 35]

CHAPTER II.

MY MISTRESS LEAVES HOME—ON HER RETURN I DO NOT KNOW HER—MY FIRST LESSON, AND WHO WAS THE BEST MASTER.

My master’s family had been away from home for a long, long time,—so long that I had almost given up hope of seeing them again, and was getting very impatient; besides, my life in the field was very dull. My mother had left it some time ago, and I never heard anything of her now. Not that I regretted that very much. She had long since ceased to think about me, and had centred all her affection upon a younger child. Still, as long as she was in the field, she was some sort of companion for me, and I was now growing to an age to be impatient of solitude, and to wish for more stirring occupation than wandering around and around the meadow by myself, and having nothing [Pg 36]to do but to eat and to drink. Occasionally, indeed, I still saw Old Thomas; but our intercourse was not so frequent as it used to be, and, indeed, was of quite a different kind. I no longer felt it consistent with my dignity to frisk and gambol about; and even when kindnesses were offered to me, I could, when I pleased, assume an air of such perfect indifference that I think, if