Presently I stopped. I was in a meadow. I felt tired and sad. I was
just asking myself whether donkeys were not a great deal better than
human beings, when a soft little hand touched me, and a soft little
voice said:—
“Oh, _poor_ donkey! How thin you are! Perhaps you’ve been badly
treated. Come home and see my grandma! _She’ll_ take good care of you.”
I looked round. There stood a nice little boy about five years old; his
little sister, who was only three, was running by the side of their
nurse.
“What’s that you’re saying, Master Jack?” said the nurse.
“Oh, nursie, I am telling him to come home with us to see grandma.”
“Yes, yes!” cried the little girl, whose name was Janie; “and let me
ride on his back. Nurse, up, up!”
The nurse put the little girl on my back, and Jack wanted to lead me,
but of course I had no bridle on, so he came up and stroked me softly
and whispered in my ear:—
“Gee up, Neddy! Come along, dear Neddy!”
[Illustration: “I FOLLOWED HIM ALL THE WAY.” P. 38.]
I was so pleased with this little boy’s trusting me, that I at once
followed him all the way, occasionally touching his hand with my nose.
“Oh, nurse, nurse—look! He’s kissing me!” cried Jack.
“Nonsense, my dear!” said the nurse. “He does that because he smells
the piece of bread you have in your pocket.”
I was so hurt at this unkind remark from the nurse, that I turned my
head away all the rest of the time we were going to the house of the
children’s grandmamma.
When we got there they left me at the door and ran in, and in a few
minutes they returned with a kind-looking, pretty old lady with white
hair.
“Look, grandma, isn’t he a dear donkey?” said Jack, clasping his hands.
“And oh, grandma, may we keep him?”
“Let me see him closer, my dears,” said the old lady, and she came down
and patted me, and felt my ears and put her hand into my mouth. I stood
perfectly still, and was very careful not to bite her, even by mistake.
“Well, he _does_ look gentle, my dears,” said the old lady. “Emily,”
she added, to the nurse, “tell the coachman to make inquiries to find
out to whom he belongs, and if he is not reclaimed, we will keep him,
at any rate for the present. Poor creature, how thin and neglected he
looks! Jack, go and call Robert; I shall have him put in the stable,
with something to eat and drink.”
The stableman came and led me away, and Jack and Janie followed. I had
two horses and another donkey for companions in the stable. Robert made
me a nice litter of straw to sleep on, and then fetched me a measure of
oats.
“Oh, Robert, give him more than that!” cried Jack, “it’s such a little,
and Emily says he ran in the village race. He must be _so_ tired and
hungry. More, more!”
“But, Master Jack,” said Robert, “if you give him too many oats he will
be too lively, and then neither you nor Miss Janie will be able to ride
him.”
“Oh, he is such a kind donkey, I’m sure he will go quietly for us. Do,
Robert, do _please_ give him some more!”
So Robert gave me another measure of oats, a large pail of water, and
some hay. I made an enormous supper, and then lay down on my straw, and
slept like a king.
The next day I had nothing to do but to take the children for an hour’s
ride. Jack brought me my oats himself, and, paying no heed to what
Robert said, he gave me enough for three donkeys of my size. I ate it
all up, and was delighted at having so many good things.
But on the third day I felt very ill. My head ached. I had indigestion.
I was very feverish. I could eat neither oats nor hay. I couldn’t even
get up, and was still lying stretched on my straw when Jack came to see
me.
“Why, Neddy is still in bed!” cried Jack. “Get up, Neddy, it is
breakfast time. I’ll give you your oats.”
I tried to lift up my head, but it fell heavily back on the straw.
“Oh, he’s ill, Neddy’s ill!” cried Jack, in a great fright. “Robert,
quick, quick! Neddy’s very ill!”
“What’s the matter?” said Robert, coming in at the stable door. “I
filled his manger early this morning. Ah,” he added, looking at the
hay in the manger, which was quite untouched, “there must be something
wrong.”
He felt my ears; they were very hot, and my sides were throbbing. He
looked serious.
“Oh, what is it? what is it?” cried poor Jack, almost in tears.
“He’s got the fever, Master Jack, from overeating. I told you how it
would be if you _would_ give him all those oats. And now we shall have
to send for the vet.”
“What’s the vet?” said Jack, looking still more scared.
“The veterinary surgeon, the animals’ doctor,” replied Robert. “You
see, Master Jack, I told you not to do it. This poor donkey has lived
very poorly all the winter, as any one can see from his thinness and
the state of his coat. Then he got very hot in the donkey-race. He
ought to have had cool grass to eat and a _very_ few oats, but you gave
him as much as he could eat.”
“Oh, poor Neddy, _poor_ Neddy! He’ll die, and it’s all my fault!” and
poor little Jack burst out crying.
“Come, Master Jack, he won’t die this time; but we shall have to bleed
him and then turn him out to grass.”
Robert sent for the veterinary surgeon, and told Jack to go away.
Then he took a lancet, and made a little hole with it in a vein in my
neck. It bled, and I began to feel better. My head wasn’t so heavy,
and I fetched my breath more easily; I was able to get up. Robert then
stopped the bleeding, and in about an hour took me out, and left me in
a fresh cool meadow.
[Illustration: “JACK AND JANIE TOOK THE GREATEST CARE OF ME.”]
I was better, but not yet well, and it was a whole week before I could
do anything except rest in the meadow and crop the grass. Jack and
Janie took the greatest care of me; they came to see me several times
a day. They picked grass for me, so that I shouldn’t have to stoop my
head down to get it for myself. They brought me cool juicy lettuce
from the kitchen garden, and cabbage-leaves, and carrots; and every
evening they came to see me home to my stable, and there filled my
manger for my supper with what I liked best of all, potato-peel and
salt. Jack wanted to give me his pillow one night, because he thought
that my head was too low when I was asleep; and Janie wanted to fetch
the counterpane off her bed to cover me up with, and keep me warm.
Another day they came and put bits of cotton-wool round my feet, for
fear they should get cold. I was quite unhappy at not knowing how to
show them my gratitude for such great kindness; but, unfortunately,
though I could understand all they said I was unable to say anything
myself.
At last I was well again, and with Janie and Jack and some cousins of
theirs who also came to stay with their grandmamma, I passed a very
happy summer.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]