THE STORY OF A DONKEY

ABRIDGED FROM THE FRENCH OF MADAME LA COMTESSE DE SÉGUR By CHARLES WELSH EDITED BY CHARLES F. DOLE ILLUSTRATED BY E. H. SAUNDERS BOSTON, U.S.A. D. C. HEATH & CO., PUBLISHERS 1904

Copyright, 1901, By D. C. Heath & Co.

Dedication.

TO MY PRESENT LITTLE MASTER, HARRY.

My Dear Little Master,

You have been kind to me, but you have spoken contemptuously of donkeys in general. I want you to know better what sort of animals donkeys really are, and so I have written for you this story of my life. You will see, my dear little Master, that we donkeys have been, and still are, often badly treated by human beings. We are often very nice indeed; but I must also confess that in my youth I sometimes behaved very badly, and you will see how I was punished for it, and how unhappy I was, and how at last I repented, and how at last my repentance changed me and gained for me the forgiveness of my friends and masters. So, when you have read my history, you won’t say any more “as stupid as a donkey,” or “as obstinate as a donkey,” but “as sensible as a donkey,” “as clever as a donkey,” or “as gentle as a donkey.”

Hee-haw! my dear little Master, hee-haw! I hope you will never be as I was when I was young.

I remain,

Your obedient servant,

NEDDY.

PREFACE.

I do not recollect my childhood; I was probably as unhappy as the rest of the little donkeys are; and no doubt as pretty and as graceful. Certainly I was full of wit and intelligence, for, old as I am now, I have more of both than most donkeys possess.

I have often outwitted some of my poor masters, who, being only men, could not be expected to have the intelligence of a donkey,—and I will begin my Memoirs with the story of a trick I once played in the days of my youth.

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INTRODUCTION.

The author of this book was the daughter of that Count Rostopchine who was governor of Moscow when it was burned in 1812, and Napoleon was obliged in consequence to make his disastrous retreat from that city. Born in 1799, Sophie de Rostopchine married, in 1821, the Count de Ségur, a son of one of the oldest and proudest families of France. She was a very accomplished and lovable person, and, as her writings attest, she was thoroughly in sympathy with the ways and feelings of children.

She did not begin to publish her stories until she was fifty-seven years of age, but between that date and the time of her death in 1874, she wrote and brought out a great many books for children.

The “Memoirs of a Donkey,” published in 1860, is one of the most popular, wholesome, and entertaining of her books. It is longer in the original than the version here given, as it contains a great number of scenes that could interest only the boys and girls of France; and there are many incidents in which the donkey scarcely figures. We have, therefore, given in this book the story of Neddy, the donkey. His adventures are interesting and amusing enough by themselves, and as there has been nothing quite like them originally written in English, we have included this retelling of the story in our Home and School Classics.

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LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

“I ate up several cabbages”

“I jumped clean over the hedge”

“I galloped along”

“We were placed along the wall”

“I galloped to the other end of the meadow”

“I drank up a bowl of cream”

“The boys shouted”

“I was ahead of all”

“I followed him all the way”

“Jack and Janie took the greatest care of me”

“The gentlemen and boys formed a broad line across the field”

“A sad procession”

“Muffles took the bunch of flowers”

“In order to clear a path”

“Along the edge of the ditch”

“I took the hat in my teeth”

AND TEN SMALLER ONES IN THE TEXT.

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The Story of a Donkey.

CHAPTER I.

Men, poor things, can’t be expected to be as wise as donkeys, and therefore you probably do not know that there was a market in our country-town every Tuesday. At this market vegetables were sold, and butter, and eggs, and cheese, and fruit, and many other nice things.

Tuesday was a miserable day for the poor donkeys, and especially for me. I belonged to a farmer’s wife, and she was very severe and ill-tempered. Just think! every week she used to load up my back with all the eggs her hens laid,2 all the butter and cheese she made from the milk of her cows, all the vegetables and fruit that were ready for market out of her garden. Then she would get on the top of all this and beat me with a hard, knotty stick because my poor thin legs didn’t carry her to market with all that load as fast as she liked. I trotted, I almost galloped, but that farmer’s wife whipped me all the same. I used to get very angry at such cruelty and injustice. I tried to kick her off, but I was loaded down too heavily, and so I could only wobble about from side to side; but I did have the satisfaction of knowing that she was well jolted. Then she would growl, “Ah, you wretched animal! see if I don’t teach you to wobble!” and she would beat me again till I could scarcely keep on my legs.

One day we reached the market-town in this way, and the baskets with which my poor back had been nearly crushed were taken off and set down upon the ground. My mistress hitched me to a post, and went away to get her dinner. I was dying of hunger and thirst, but nobody thought of offering me a single blade of grass or a drop of water. While the farmer’s wife was away, I managed to get my head close to the basket of vegetables, and made a dinner of the cabbages and lettuces. I never tasted anything so good.

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I had just finished the last cabbage and the last lettuce in that basket when my mistress came back. She cried out when she saw the empty basket, and I looked at her with such an impudent and self-satisfied air, that she at once guessed that I was the culprit. I won’t repeat to you the mean things she said to me. When she was angry she used language which was enough to make me blush, donkey as I am. So after heaping me with abuse, of which I took no notice, she seized her stick and began to beat me so severely, that at last I lost patience and launched out three kicks. The first kick broke her nose and two teeth, the second sprained her wrist, and the third knocked her flat.

A score of people at once set upon me and knocked me about. They picked up my mistress and carried her away, leaving me fastened to the post, by the side of which were spread out the things I had brought to be sold in the market. I remained there a long while, and finding that no one paid any more attention to me, I ate a second basketful of excellent vegetables, and then with my teeth I gnawed through the cord that tied me up, and quietly took the road home.

The people I passed on the way were astonished to see me all alone.

“Look,” said one, “see that ass with the broken nose! He has run away.”

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“Then he has run away from prison,” said the other, and they all began to laugh.

“He doesn’t carry a heavy load upon his back,” said a third.

“Certainly he has done some mischief,” a fourth one said.

“Catch him and we will put the little one upon his back,” said a woman.

“He will carry you as well as the little boy,” answered her husband.

I, wishing to give a good opinion of my kindness and good will, came gently towards the country woman and stopped near her to let her mount upon my back.

“He doesn’t seem a bad sort!” said the man, helping his wife to the saddle.

I smiled with pity on hearing this remark. Bad! as if a donkey kindly treated were ever bad! We become angry, disobedient, and obstinate only to revenge ourselves for the blows and injuries we receive. When we are well treated we are good,—much better, in fact, than many other animals.

I took the young woman and her little child of two years back to their home; they stroked me, were very much pleased with me, and would willingly have kept me.

But it was, I thought, not honest to stay with them. My masters had bought me and I be5longed to them. I had already broken my mistress’s nose, teeth, and wrist, and had kicked her in the stomach. I was sufficiently revenged.

Seeing that the mother was going to give in to her little boy (who I noticed was a spoiled child), I jumped to one side, and before the mother could catch my bridle again, I ran away at a gallop and came back to my home.

Mary, my mistress’s little girl, saw me come back.

“Hallo, here’s Neddy,” she said; “how early he is! Jim, come and take off his pack-saddle.”

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“That wretched donkey!” growled Jim; “always something to be done for him! Why is he alone? I suspect he has run away from mother.”

My saddle and bridle were taken off, and I galloped away to the meadow. Suddenly I heard shrieks. I looked over the hedge, and saw some men carrying my mistress home. Then I heard Jim say:—

“I say, father, I’m going to take the cart-whip, and I shall tie that donkey to a tree, and then whip him till he can’t stand.”

“All right, my lad,” said my master, “but mind and don’t kill him, for he cost money. I’ll sell him next fair-day.”

I shuddered when I heard this. There wasn’t a moment to be lost. This time I did not care whether they lost their money or not. I made a run and jumped clean over the hedge. Then I ran till I was out of sight and hearing in the depths of a beautiful large forest, where there was plenty of soft grass to eat, and plenty of sparkling brooks to drink from.

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CHAPTER II.

Next day after, I thought over my good fortune. “Here I am saved,” thought I; “they never will find me, and in a couple of days, when I am quite rested, I will go farther on.”

Just then I heard the far-off barking of a dog; then of a second one; and several minutes afterwards the yelling of a whole pack. Restless and frightened, I got up and went towards a little brook that I had noticed in the morning. I had hardly ventured into the water, when I heard Jules saying to the dogs, “Go on, go on, dogs, search him out, find this miserable donkey, and bring him back to me.”

I nearly fell down with fright, but I quickly remembered that if I walked in the water the dogs could not follow my scent. So I began to8 run in the brook which was fortunately bordered on both sides with thick bushes.

I went on for a long time without stopping. The barking of the dogs as well as the voice of Jules became fainter, until at last I heard nothing more.

Breathless and exhausted I rested a minute to drink. I ate a few leaves off the bushes. My legs were stiff with cold, but I did not dare to get out of the water lest the dogs might come upon my scent again. When I had rested a little, I set off again, always following the brook until I got out of the forest. I then found myself in a meadow where over fifty cattle were grazing. I lay down in the sun in a corner of the field. The cattle paid no attention to me, so that I could rest at my ease.

Towards evening two men came into the meadow. “Brother,” said the taller of the two, “shall we take the cattle in to-night? They say there are wolves in the woods.”

“Wolves! Who told you that nonsense?”

“People say that the donkey from the farm has been taken away and eaten in the forest.”

“Bah! don’t believe it; the people of that farm are so wicked that they have killed their donkey with bad treatment.”

“Then why do they say that the wolves have eaten him?”

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“So that people won’t know that they have killed him.”

“We had better take in our cattle, all the same.”

“Do as you wish, brother; it is all one to me.”

I was in such fear of being seen that I lay in my corner and did not stir; fortunately the grass was long and hid me; the cattle were not on the side where I was. The men drove them towards the gate, and then to the farm where their masters lived.

I was not afraid of wolves, because the donkey of whom they spoke was myself, and because I had not seen the tail of a wolf in the forest where I passed the night. So I slept beautifully and was finishing my breakfast when the cattle came back to the meadow, guarded by two large dogs.

I was looking at them, when one of the dogs saw me, and, barking fiercely, ran towards me, his companion following. What should I do? how could I escape them?

I flew towards the hedges surrounding the meadow, through which ran the brook I had followed. I was fortunate enough to jump over it, and I heard the voice of one of the men I had seen yesterday, calling off his dogs.

I went on my way at my ease, and walked as far as another forest, the name of which I don’t know. I must have gone more than ten miles.10 I was saved; nobody knew me; and I could show myself without fear of being taken back to my former masters.

But it began to grow cold, for winter was coming on, and I thought it high time to look out for a comfortable home. I trotted on right through the forest, and out at the other side, and after some days’ travelling, I arrived at a village that I had never seen or heard of before. Here I felt I should be safe.

Just outside the village there stood a little cottage in a garden quite by itself. It was very clean and neat. An old woman was sitting by the door doing some needlework. I thought she looked both kind and sad; so I went up to her, and put my head on her shoulder.

The good woman gave a shriek, and jumped up quickly.

I did not move, but lifted my face towards hers with a gentle and pleading look.

“Poor thing!” she said at last; “you don’t look like a bad creature. If you don’t belong to any one, you shall take the place of my poor Greycoat, who died the other day of old age, and I shall still be able to earn my living by taking my vegetables to market to sell. But,” she added, with a sigh, “you’ve got a master somewhere, I’ll be bound.”

“Granny, whom are you talking to?” said a11 pleasant voice from the house, and a nice little boy came out of the door. He was six or seven years old, poorly but very neatly dressed. He looked at me, half admiring, half afraid.

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“Granny, may I stroke him?” he said.

“Of course you may, George, my dear; but take care he doesn’t bite you.”

The little boy stretched up his hand, but he was so short that he had to stand on tiptoe before he could reach my back. I didn’t move, for fear of frightening him; I only turned my head round, and licked his hand.

“Oh, granny, granny! just see! what a dear donkey! he licked my hand!”

“It’s very strange,” said George’s grandmother, “that he should be here all by himself. Go to the village, my dear, and ask whether anybody has lost a donkey. Perhaps his master is very anxious about him.”

George set off at a run, and I trotted after him. When he saw me come up, and then stand still by a mound on the roadside, he climbed up on my back, and said, “Gee up!”

I galloped along, and George was enchanted. When we got to the village inn, George cried, “Whoa back!” and I stopped immediately.

“What do you want, laddie?” said the innkeeper.

“Please, sir, do you know whose donkey this is?”

The innkeeper came out, and looked me all over. “No, my boy, he isn’t mine, and he doesn’t belong to any one I know. Go and ask farther on.”

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So George went through the village asking the same question, but nobody had ever seen me before. At last we went back to the good old woman, who was still sitting with her work at the cottage door.

“So you can’t find his master, my dear? Very well, then, we may keep him till he is claimed. He mustn’t stay out all night. Take him to Greycoat’s shed, and give him some hay and a pail of water.”

The next morning George came to fetch me out of the shed, and gave me some breakfast. Then he put on the halter, and took me round to the cottage door. The old woman put a light pack-saddle on my back and mounted. Then George brought her a basket of vegetables, which she took on her knee, and we set off to market. Nobody in this market-town had ever seen or heard of me, and I came back joyfully to my new home.

I lived there for four years, and was very happy. I did my work well and never did anybody any harm. I loved my good old mistress and my little master. They never beat me or overworked me, and they gave me the best food they could. We donkeys are not dainty. The outside leaves of vegetables and plants that cows and horses won’t eat, and hay and potato-peel and carrots and turnips, are all we need.

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CHAPTER III.

On some days, however, I was not so happy, for my mistress, now and then, hired me out to the children in the neighborhood. She was not well off, and on the days when she had nothing for me to do she was glad to earn something in this way.

And the people who hired me were not always good to me, as the following story will show:—

There were six donkeys in a row in the courtyard; I was the strongest and one of the most beautiful. Three little girls brought us oats in a bucket; as I ate I listened to the children talking.

Charles.—Come along, let us choose our donkeys. I’ll begin by taking this one (pointing me out with his finger).

“Yes, you always take what you think is the best,” said the six children all at once. “We must draw lots.”

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Charles.—How can we draw lots, Caroline? Can we put the donkeys in a bag and draw them out like marbles?

Anthony.—Ha! ha! ha! The idea of donkeys in a bag! As if one could not number them 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6. Put the numbers in a bag and draw them out as they come.

“That is so, that is so,” cried the five others. “Ernest, make the number slips while we write them on the backs of the donkeys.”

“These children are stupid,” said I to myself; “if they had the sense of a donkey, instead of giving themselves the trouble of writing the numbers on our backs, they would simply place us along the wall; then the first would be 1, the second 2, and so on.”

Meanwhile Anthony had brought a large piece of charcoal. I was the first. He wrote a large 1 on my flank; while he was writing 2 on that of my comrade, I shook myself to show him that his invention was not very clever. In a moment the 1 had disappeared. “Stupid,” cried he, “I must begin again.”

While he was doing his number 1 over again, my comrade, who had seen me, and who was clever, shook himself in his turn. There was the 2 gone. Then Anthony began to get angry, and the others laughed and teased him. I made a sign to my comrades to let them go on, and then16 not one of us moved after being marked. Ernest returned with the numbers in his pocket-handkerchief. Each one drew.

While they were looking at their numbers, I made another sign to my comrades, and we all shook ourselves vigorously. Charcoal and numbers disappeared and all must be done over again! The children were angry; Charles was triumphant and sneering; Ernest, Albert, Caroline, Cecil and Louise, crying out against Anthony, who stamped his feet. They began to quarrel with each other, and my comrades and I began to bray.

The noise brought out the fathers and the mothers, to whom the matter was explained. One of the fathers at last thought of placing us in order along the wall. Then they made the children 17 draw the numbers. “One!” cried Ernest. It was I. “Two!” said Cecil. It was one of my friends. “Three!” said Anthony, and so on until the last donkey was drawn. “Now, let us go,” said Charles; “I will start first.” “Oh! I shall catch up with you,” quickly answered Ernest. “I’ll wager you won’t,” said Charles. “I’ll wager I will,” replied Ernest. Charles struck his donkey and started at a gallop. Before Ernest had time to strike me with his whip, I started also, and at a rate which enabled us soon to overtake Charles and his donkey.

Ernest was delighted; Charles was furious and beat his donkey repeatedly. Ernest had no need to beat me; I ran like the wind, and passed Charles in a minute. I heard the others following, laughing and shouting.