I TRAVEL TO ALL PARTS OF ENGLAND, AND MAKE ACQUAINTANCE WITH EVERY
VARIETY OF PEOPLE—AT LENGTH I GO TO LONDON—REGENT STREET IN MIDDAY—A
RECOGNITION—I MAKE MY FIRST APPEARANCE IN A POLICE STATION, AND PROVE
MYSELF A VALUABLE WITNESS—I TAKE UP MY ABODE IN THE “GREEN YARD.”
I was aroused very early the next morning from the enjoyment of my
quiet sleep by a sharp kick in the side. Jumping up as quickly as
possible, I saw my master standing by me ready dressed. Putting the
bridle over my head, he led me to where the rest of the party were
sitting having their breakfast. They did not offer anything to me,
however, and I was obliged to content myself with a few bites of grass
from the roadside. To judge from the eager talking that went on, some
very important matter was being decided. In a few moments, my master,
throwing some light articles for sale over my shoulders, jumped upon
my back himself, and, saying good-bye to his companions, set me off at
a good sharp trot. We had not gone very far when my master suddenly
pulled me up, and seemed hesitating whether he should turn me around or
not. I was wondering what we were to do next, when I saw a man coming
toward me, whom I recognized as a workman occasionally employed on my
dear old master’s farm. Oh, how my heart beat for joy! “Now,” thought
I, “who knows but he may deliver me?” and I came to a dead halt,
intending, when the man passed by, to endeavour to attract his notice.
But my rider was apparently aware of my intention, for he gave me two
or three such frightful kicks, that, almost sick with the pain, I found
myself obliged to go on in spite of myself; but I sidled up as much as
possible to the side of the road where the man was walking.
He looked hard at us as we passed, and something seemed to attract his
attention.
“Hallo!” he said; “you seem to have got a smart-looking donkey there.”
“The most obstinate brute that ever was seen,” returned my master; and
he took advantage of the observation to give me some severe cuts over
the head, which so stupefied me that I could not understand what the
man next said. There seemed to be a long and very angry discussion; but
it ended by the man walking away, and my master urging me on to the
extent of my powers in the opposite direction. How grieved I felt then!
how angry with the man for his stupidity in not recognizing me and
taking me home! I was yet to learn what an important influence over my
future destiny this chance meeting was to have.
It would be tedious to endeavour to give any detailed account of my
present mode of life; indeed, one day was so like another that to
describe one is to describe all. I had fallen into the hands of a
peddler, who went through the country, now selling one kind of goods,
now another, as the case might be, to suit the various tastes of
the different communities in the neighbourhood of which we found
ourselves. When I was first in his possession, we went miles and miles
away from my own dear home; in fact, I soon lost all recollection of
where it was, or in what direction I should have to turn to regain
it. It was a cold, bleak district where we settled first,—very, very
unlike the warm climate to which I had been accustomed, with its rich
meadow-land and soft green grass, and bright sunlight. Here, where we
now lived, there was nothing to be seen but smoke and dirt. The very
grass was all cinders.
At first I was half-scared out of my senses by the strange sights and
noises which I saw and heard around me. At every turn in the road
there seemed to burst forth fire and smoke; and as to the clank,
clank, clank, bang, bang, bang, burr, burr, burr, it was unceasing
from morning till night. And then the people, so unlike those amongst
whom I had spent my early days. No clean smock-frocks and ruddy,
healthy-looking faces; but grim, dirty men, wretched-looking women,
and miserable children! It was quite sad to look at them, as I went
from door to door, dragging my load of vegetables, or fish, or what
not; and then to hear the swearing and the quarrelling, the bartering
and the chaffering,—oh, how unlike my mistress’s sweet voice! how
different from those quiet drives in the green lanes of my native
country! Ah! now that it was too late, how bitterly I repented me of my
past misconduct, and thought, if the time had but to come over again,
how differently I would behave! It is of no use, however, to expect
that any one will profit by my experience. It is just one of those
things that every one will insist upon buying for themselves; and then,
when they have to pay the bill, they grumble, and say: “How very dear
it comes!” Of course it does; but perhaps it is as well,—we should not
value it else. We never do value anything that we get cheap. I often
used to hear my master say that.
“Put on a good price, and keep to it, Betsy,” he would tell his wife.
“But really, Jem, this or that is not worth the sum you name,” his wife
would occasionally reply, for my new mistress was a good-hearted woman.
“A thing is worth what it will fetch,” my master would answer. “Offer
it for a lower price, and the people will suspect it to be bad
directly.”
And so, often and often, when I stood before the doors of the cottages
with whose inhabitants my master did business, I had to listen to such
lies and impositions that my heart grieved for the poor people who were
made such easy dupes. But what could I do? I could only turn my head
around, and look up gravely in their faces, and wag my ears; and then
they said—if they said anything to me at all—“How troublesome the flies
are to your poor donkey to-day!” and they did not know that I was not
thinking about myself, but wondering how it came to be how they were so
quickly tickled by a little skilful flattery. There are worse flies,
thought I, than those which are biting me!
I had wished to see life, and I saw it now in some of its saddest and
most miserable forms. Oh, what places we went into! My stable at my
dear old master’s was a palace, compared with the homes of hundreds of
men, women, and children with whom I now made acquaintance; and then
the want of light and air,—why, sometimes I could hardly see how to
pick my way along the broken pavement; and as to air,—I could not have
got up a bray, no, not if you had promised me a feed of grain to do
so. How human beings could live in such an atmosphere, I knew not. It
almost killed me to drag my load along in it.
But we did not always stay in the neighbourhood of these great towns.
Sometimes we would go long journeys across the country, visiting fairs
and other merrymakings. And these were times of peculiar hardship to
me: morning, noon, night, I was always at work, and hardly a moment
was allowed for me to snatch a hasty meal. No sooner had I dragged
the cart, filled with articles for sale, to its appointed post than,
instead of being allowed to stand to rest and amuse myself by falling
into the state of half-dreamy unconsciousness so delightful to all our
race, I was taken out of the shafts, a saddle placed upon my back, and
then I was let out by the hour to as many mischievous urchins as chose
to take their full pennyworth of pleasure by the kicking and beating
which seem to constitute the peculiar delights of a donkey ride.
[Illustration: I was let out by the hour.]
A terrible time I had of it on those fair days and race-grounds, for,
being a more than usually handsome and powerful beast of my kind, I
was the one invariably chosen by “plucky” fellows, who wished for “a
lark;” and small pity they had on Neddy’s legs or sides; and, as to
trying to kick them off, it was only to add to my misery and their
fun. The more I kicked, the faster fell their blows, and the louder
rang their laughter; and if sometimes, in despair, I turned sulky, and
refused to go at all, it only increased my discomfort by giving time to
two or three of my tormentors to get up at once, when, with hooting,
and shouts, and jeers, I should at length be obliged to give in and
gallop ignominiously my appointed round.
But there was one very important good which arose to me out of all this
trouble. My master, seeing the admiration I excited by my handsome
shape and form, took the greatest pains to make me look as attractive
as possible, in the hope, I suppose, of increasing his earnings. My
coat had by this time recovered from the ill-treatment it had received,
and, by dint of a good dressing, could be made to acquire something of
its original gloss; and as I now occasionally got a feed of grain, my
appearance was altogether plumper and more like myself. But it must not
be supposed that I was merely delighted to hear myself admired. I will
not deny that it was far pleasanter to know that I was no longer the
wretched, dirty, miserable, half-starved wretch that I had been for so
many months; but my great cause for rejoicing in the change was that I
thought, if by any chance I should ever meet with my dear mistress, it
was possible that she now might recognize me.
In all my trouble, I had never for one moment forgotten her, and the
hope that I might yet see her again was the one bright spot that
enlightened many a dark and dreary hour. Ah! how constantly I looked
out for her sweet face! how eagerly my ears listened to catch the sound
of her well-remembered voice! And then my heart would die away within
me, as I thought, “How is it possible that she should remember me?
There is not a trace of her Neddy left in this ragged, dirty, jaded
donkey;” and I would hang down my ears, and put my tail closer between
my legs, as I felt the utter hopelessness of all chance of escaping
from my present slavery.
With the knowledge, however, that I was recovering something of my
former appearance, my spirits rose, and I became more than ever eager
for the meeting with my mistress; but it never seemed to come. I would
stand in the market-place of a town, and hundreds and hundreds of
people passed by me, and I would look wistfully in their faces; but
they were nothing to me, nor I to them. I would visit quiet country
houses, and I hoped and thought—who knew?—she might be among the
guests; but no, we went and came, but we never saw the one being who
was ever present to my recollection.
Time passed on,—I cannot tell you how long it was, I have no means of
reckoning,—but at length our journeyings seemed to take a direction
different from any they had taken before. We had left the land of fire
and smoke, we had passed by the quiet villages, in the midst of green
fields and narrow lanes and high hedges, and we came upon a country
of endless, endless houses. What a stir, and bustle, and confusion!
I had never seen anything like it, and I felt quite bewildered with
the countless carriages and people that were passing me by on every
side,—street after street, street after street, and every street as
crowded as the one we had just left. Lights flaring, carts rattling,
people pushing. I could hardly get along for terror and surprise,
and at every moment I expected some of the great ponderous wagons or
overwhelming-looking omnibuses would run over me and the slight little
cart I drew, and crunch us both to atoms. If this was London, it was a
very horrid place!
But use is second nature, and I soon became accustomed to all the
sights and sounds that had at first so much alarmed me, and could walk
down a street in the full tide of daily traffic as unconcernedly as I
should have wandered across a solitary common.
I had thought my life a very hard one when travelling about the country
to visit the different fair and race grounds; but it was happiness
itself compared with the wretched monotony of my present experience,
with its unceasing toil, scanty food, and dirty shelter. In the country
I could at least have the ground, such as it was, to lie upon, room
to stretch myself and roll, air to breathe, occasional good meals of
grass, and a drink of pure, fresh water; but in London I was forced
to content myself with a dark hole of a stable, so small I could
hardly turn myself, and so dirty it made me sick; and I thought myself
well off on those days when I could appease my hunger with a few
stale, decaying cabbage leaves, and quench my thirst with a drink of
half-putrid water.
And then the work was incessant. At earliest break of day I was
harnessed to the carriage I had to draw,—a sort of truck on wheels,
with a thing like a door laid all along on the top; and then my master
would seat himself in front, and off we would rattle, I trotting over
the stones as fast as my poor tired legs would carry me; for it was
an important object to get first to a great market held in the midst
of London, and so take up a good place for purchasing such fruit and
vegetables and flowers as should not be judged good enough for the rich
customers to Covent Garden.
If I had not felt so depressed and down-hearted, I might often have
been amused by the bustling scene around me. It was a pretty sight,
there is no denying it, to see the carts coming in piled with their
fresh and fragrant loads, women with baskets of the most deliciously
scented flowers, and men with every variety of luscious-looking fruit.
Oh, how my mouth would water as the carts passed by me full of fresh
carrots or turnips, or soft new green stuff! How I looked and longed
that some kind hand would give me just one taste! But no; I must stand
hour after hour in the midst of all this plenty, faint and weary,
and then think myself happy if an old yellow cabbage—so bad that
the very slugs rejected it—was thrown to me as my morning meal. How
often would I then look back to my early home, and remember all my
grumbling discontent if I had had a little less grain than usual, or
if the hay might not have been quite so sweet as suited my fastidious
palate! There is nothing like want and hunger to cure daintiness; and
I think it would be a very good thing if some of those who are always
complaining and repining if things are not quite to their mind, should
make trial for awhile of this sharpener to their appetites.
When my master had completed his morning purchases, which varied with
the season of the year, we used to quit the market, and start upon our
daily rounds, making our way through miles of streets, till we came to
a part of the city that bore some faint resemblance to a country town.
The houses were much lower than those in the streets through which we
passed. They stood alone, or in twos and threes, in little gardens of
their own; and they seemed to be inhabited by persons more like those
we had been accustomed to deal with in the country towns than the
ladies and gentlemen I would occasionally see stepping into their grand
carriages as we passed through the great streets and squares. I used to
wish they would have dealt with us instead; then, indeed, there might
have been some hope of my finding my dear mistress; but how was it
possible I should see her in the out-of-the-way suburbs where we plied
our morning work, or in the lowest streets of the metropolis, where we
were always to be found at night? Morning dawned after morning, night
closed after night,—still the same round of toil, and still no hope of
escape.
My master had had a more than usually successful morning’s round; my
load was disposed of, and we were returning leisurely down Regent
Street, when he was suddenly accosted by a man who was walking on the
pavement. Being in a particularly good humour, my master returned
the greeting cordially enough, and the two friends soon agreed to go
together to some saloon near, to take a glass to keep out the cold, and
to drink to their mutual prosperity.
“Here, you see to the donkey, Tom,” said my master to a boy who
generally went his rounds with him; “and do not you let nobody touch
him nor the cart till I come back again. Do you hear, Tom?”
“Yes, I hear,” was the somewhat sulky reply; and, drawing me up close
to the curbstone, where I should be as much as possible out of the
way, my master, saying he should not be gone long, turned up a narrow
street with his companion, and was soon out of sight.
Tired with my morning’s round, and having had but a scanty breakfast, I
was glad enough of the rest, and was just composing myself to a quiet
sleep, when I suddenly heard a voice, which made every limb in my body
tremble with joy, exclaim, eagerly:
“Why, Neddy, Neddy! dear Neddy! Do you remember me?”
Remember her! my own dear, dear mistress! Could I ever forget her?
Half-wild with delight, I forgot where I was, and, dragging the cart
after me on to the pavement, I began a series of ecstatic brays,
rubbing my nose at the same time against the kind hand that was held
out to me, and endeavouring to show, by every means in my power, my
unbounded joy at again beholding my beloved mistress.
“Oh, look, papa, papa!” exclaimed my mistress. “Neddy knows me! Neddy
remembers me! Good Neddy! Dear old Neddy!”
In her delight at seeing me, my mistress had, like myself, forgotten
that Regent Street, in the middle of the day, is rather a public place
in which to give way to outbursts of affection. Already a crowd had
gathered around us, some wondering, some laughing, some standing by in
silent curiosity to see what would be the end of this strange greeting;
cabmen drawing up to enjoy the fun; omnibus drivers and conductors
lingering on their way, and looking back to see what all the confusion
was about; every moment the mob increased, swelled, as it was sure to
be, by the crowd of dirty boys and idle loungers that in London springs
up at a moment’s notice, no one knows how, no one knows from where.
“Annie, my dear Annie, this is no place for you!” exclaimed a voice
that I did not recognize; and, looking up, I saw a fine, tall,
handsome-looking man, who drew my mistress’s hand away from me, and
placed it on his own arm.
“Papa dear, will you see about Neddy?” said my mistress, looking
around, evidently frightened and bewildered by the confusion around
her, and endeavouring to make her way through the crowd of bystanders.
But having so lately discovered her, I was in no humour to let her
go; and utterly disregarding every impediment in my way, I pushed on,
braying loudly as I went. Peals of laughter greeted my attempt.
“Make way for the lady! make way for the donkey!” “Hurrah, Neddy,
hurrah!” “Do it again, Neddy! do it again!” shouted the boys; whilst,
encouraged by their cheers, I pushed and pushed more strenuously than
before.
Louder and louder rose the peals of laughter; higher and higher swelled
the cheers; and, thinking I was doing the most appropriate thing
possible, I redoubled my efforts to keep up with my mistress, when,
just at this moment, who should come down the street but my late master!
“Hallo!” he exclaimed, with a coarse oath; “what is all this row about?
Who is interfering with my property?” and he put out his hand to seize
me fiercely by the rein.
“Stay! stay!” said Mr. Morton, in a voice so calm and firm that I felt
the hand upon my bridle tremble. “I rather think it is you, my man,
who have been interfering with my property. Here,” added Mr. Morton,
turning to two or three of the police, who had by this time made their
way to the spot, and were actively employed in keeping back the crowd,
“I want your assistance here. I have reason to believe that this
donkey, which belongs to my daughter, was stolen from me three years
ago by this man. I give him into custody on this charge, and require
that you meantime should take the donkey into safe keeping.”
It would be impossible to describe the man’s rage as he listened to
these words. He swore, he stamped, he abused Mr. Morton in every
angry epithet he could think of; and yet all the time he trembled,
and did not once dare to look his accuser in the face. Directing the
policemen to bring their prisoner to a police station, where he could
substantiate his charge, Mr. Morton jumped into a cab, and was driven
quickly from the spot, leaving me in the hands of the policemen, and
bewildered by the rapidity of events which, long as they have taken to
tell, passed in the space of a few minutes.
My first feeling at finding that my dear mistress had again departed
was one of unmitigated terror, and I looked around in trembling dread
that now, being once more at the mercy of my brutal master, I should
be made to suffer some horrible punishment for having thus given way
to my delight at seeing my long-lost friend. But I soon found that,
for the present, at any rate, I had nothing to dread. Struggle as he
would, my master was in stronger hands than his own. He might curse and
swear at me, but he had no power to do more, as, led along gently by a
tall, grave, powerful-looking man, and followed by a crowd of noisy,
hooting, cheering boys, I slowly made my way down street after street,
until, finally, I was stopped before the door of one of the largest
police stations of the metropolis. Here my master disappeared from my
view, whilst I remained standing in the street, under the charge of my
grave-looking conductor, and surrounded by a continually increasing
crowd, to whom I was evidently an object of the greatest amusement and
curiosity.
Some time had passed in this manner, when the policeman who led me
was joined by one of his companions, who, having said some words very
quickly to him, of which I only caught “donkey and cart,” there was a
renewed bustle and stir around me, and then the traces that fastened
me to the cart were unhooked, and I was led through the crowd, now
cheering louder than before, toward a doorway, so blocked up by people
that I felt quite frightened, and refused to go on.
“Come, Neddy, come along,” said the policeman who had held me hitherto.
“There is no one who will hurt you here; you need not be afraid.” And
at the same time he desired his companion to go on, and make a way
through the crowd.
Encouraged by the kind voice in which he spoke, and by seeing that
the people fell back right and left at the orders of his companion, I
plucked up my courage, and stepped through the door into a passage,
broad and paved with stones like those on which people walk in the
streets of London. I had never been in such an odd place before, and
I did not half like it, and was more than once inclined to turn back;
but the man kept a firm but gentle hold of me, leading me on, till at
last two great doors were thrown open, and I found myself in a large
room filled with people, sitting on benches raised one above another. I
was quite bewildered at the sight of so many heads,—more especially as
at my first coming in there was a general buzz of voices, and all eyes
were evidently fixed on myself.
A loud cry of “Silence! silence!” gave me a moment to recover myself,
and then I heard a grave voice say:
“Let the donkey judge for himself. You are at liberty to call him,”
added the gentleman, turning to my late master, whom I now for the
first time perceived standing in an open space in the centre of the
room.
“Here, Neddy—Neddy—come here, Neddy. There is a good donkey, come
here,” said the man in a voice of the most insinuating gentleness; but
as I had never heard him speak so before, no wonder I did not recognize
its tones, and the only answer I made was to hang down my ears and
plant my tail very firmly between my legs.
There was a general burst of laughter that not the presence of that
grave-looking gentleman, nor the reiterated cries of “Silence! silence
in the court, there!” could in any measure suppress; while a voice
exclaimed: “He has had the donkey, that is clear enough, for the poor
brute thinks he is going to beat him now. Hush! hush! See what he is
going to do next. Here comes the lady. Silence! Hush! hush!”
[Illustration: I went right up to my mistress.]
“Now, madam, it is your turn,” I heard the grave-looking gentleman say;
and in another moment I saw my dear mistress rise up from a seat by his
side, and, leaning on the arm of her father, come down into the open
court.
“Neddy! dear Neddy!” she said, just in the way that she used to call me
up to the fence years ago. I forgot all my past misery, and, thinking
only of my joy at beholding her, I set up such a bray as I had never
brayed in all my life before! Oh, how the people shouted with laughter!
The very judge could not resist the infection of their merriment, and
gave way in spite of himself.
Why, what had I done that was so ridiculous? I could only express my
joy with the voice which nature had given me. If it was not so sweet
and gentle as some of theirs, that was not my fault. At any other
moment my self-love might have been seriously wounded; but now I could
only think of my delight, and, breaking away from the policemen who
held me, I went right up to my mistress, and, rubbing my nose against
her hand, I whinnied out my happiness, entreating her as best I could
to let me stay with her now and for ever.
There was no laughter in the court then; and I have heard my mistress
say since that there were tears in many an eye. Real, genuine affection
is somewhat rare in this world, and, when it is found, it goes straight
to the heart even of the most hardened; and there are few so bad that
they will make fun of the evidence of pure, unselfish love.
There was a minute’s pause, and then I heard the grave man say, in
tones of such kindness as showed his interest in my fate:
“I am quite satisfied, madam. No witnesses that could be produced
could speak half so strongly to the truth of your case as does the
affectionate remembrance of the poor dumb beast. That the donkey is
the one that was stolen from you three years ago, there can be no
doubt. All that remains to be proved is, who did the deed; and that, I
am afraid, with all his sagacity, the animal will not be able to tell
us. I shall send the case to trial; and in the meanwhile,” turning to
Mr. Morton, “it is for you to produce the evidence that the man now
charged with the theft was the person who stole the donkey.”
“I have no doubt whatever that I shall be able to do so,” replied Mr.
Morton.
“You can remove the donkey out of court,” said the grave gentleman, and
then he turned to my late master, who was standing dogged and silent,
in charge of two of the police, and proceeded to address him in terms
which I did not understand, my whole attention being now fixed upon
myself, and upon the thought of being separated from my dear mistress,
whom I had vainly hoped I was never to leave again. In my anxiety to
remain by her side, I quite forgot that I was in a court of justice,
and that, as a well-bred English donkey, it was my duty to submit
myself to the laws of my land, and I struggled hard to pull away from
the policeman’s hold, and to follow my mistress, who was now led back
by her father to the seat from which she had risen.
I do not know how the struggle might have ended; but, seeing that my
endeavours to get free were disturbing the whole court, my mistress
once more came up to me, and, patting me gently on the forehead: “Oh,
Neddy,” she said, “this is very naughty of you! Come with me.” How
could I disobey?
“You may leave him,” she said to my conductor; “he will go away with me
directly.”
Go away with her? Of course I would, to the world’s end. My first
journey, however, was destined to be a much shorter one; for, no sooner
had I quietly walked by her side through the court-house into the
passage than, placing my rein in the hand of the policeman:
“He will follow you now, I think,” she said. “Go, Neddy; there is a
good Neddy. I will come to see you very soon. Good-bye, Neddy!” and,
patting me kindly, before I had time to look around, she was gone.
A crowd, little short of that which had accompanied me to the court,
was awaiting my return, and eager inquiries greeted my conductor as to
the result of the trial. Every one talked so fast and so loud that I
could not make out much of what was said; but I gathered sufficient
to make me very happy in the feeling I should soon be restored to my
pleasant home, and that meanwhile I was to be left in the care of my
present guardian, whose kindness toward me had already impressed me
greatly in his favour.
I gleaned, too, from what I heard, that the result of the trial
depended mainly on the evidence of some man who was supposed to have
seen me soon after I was stolen from my dear mistress.
This set my brain working; and, as I walked by the side of my conductor
toward my new place of abode, I tried hard to recall all the events
of the past three years, and think whether there was any one person
whom I could remember who could have recognized me in the time of my
degradation. In vain! in vain! I could not recall one old friend who
could bear testimony to my identity.
Suddenly there came upon me a flash of light, and I bethought me of the
man who, on that wretched morning after my capture, had refused, as I
then thought, to rescue me from my dreaded slavery. Who knew but that
now he might come forward, and, recognizing my master as the man he had
then accosted, might for ever set me free from his power?
It was a bright and happy thought, and kept me up through several long,
long days of dreary suspense,—days rendered so much the longer that I
had nothing whatever to do, but to ruminate sadly over the past. Not
but that I was comfortable enough in my present abode, and had plenty
to eat and to drink; but I had been so accustomed of late to an active,
stirring life that I got tired of standing hour after hour tied up to
a manger, with no one to speak to but a few chance companions, who,
like myself, were condemned to a temporary imprisonment. We had all our
griefs and sorrows, and could all, no doubt, have told some strange and
wonderful adventures; but, one and all, we shrunk from anything like
fellowship, and, shutting up in our own hearts our hopes or our fears,
awaited, with what patience we could, the verdict which was to open to
us our new and unknown career.