[Illustration: “I ATE UP SEVERAL CABBAGES.”]
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.
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.
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
“I ate up several cabbages” _Frontispiece_
“I jumped clean over the hedge” 5
“I galloped along” 11
“We were placed along the wall” 16
“I galloped to the other end of the meadow” 24
“I drank up a bowl of cream” 27
“The boys shouted” 29
“I was ahead of all” 33
“I followed him all the way” 37
“Jack and Janie took the greatest care of me” 42
“The gentlemen and boys formed a broad line across the field” 45
“A sad procession” 49
“Muffles took the bunch of flowers” 54
“In order to clear a path” 58
“Along the edge of the ditch” 61
“I took the hat in my teeth” 67
AND TEN SMALLER ONES IN THE TEXT.
The Story of a Donkey.
[Illustration]
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, 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.
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.”
“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 belonged to them. I had already broken my mistress’s
nose, teeth, and wrist, and had kicked her in the stomach. I was
sufficiently revenged.
[Illustration: “I JUMPED CLEAN OVER THE HEDGE.”]
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.”
“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.
[Illustration]