There dwelt an old man in Monastier, [Footnote: Monastier: a little
village in southern France.] of rather unsound intellect according to
some, much followed by street-boys, and known to fame as Father Adam.
Father Adam had a cart, and to draw the cart a diminutive donkey, not
much bigger than a dog, the color of a mouse, with a kindly eye and a
determined under-jaw. There was something neat and high-bred, a
Quakerish elegance, about the rogue that hit my fancy on the spot.
Our first interview was in Monastier market-place. To prove her good
temper, one child after another was set upon her back to ride, and one
after another went head over heels into the air; until a want of
confidence began to reign in youthful bosoms, and the experiment was
discontinued from a dearth of subjects. I was already backed by a
deputation [Footnote: Deputation: a group of persons sent to act in
behalf of others.] of my friends; but as if this were not enough, all
the buyers and sellers came around and helped me in the bargain; and the
ass and I and Father Adam were the centre of a hubbub for near half an
hour. At length she passed into my service for the consideration of
sixty-five francs and a glass of brandy. The sack had already cost
eighty francs and two glasses of beer; so that Modestine, as I instantly
baptized her, was upon all accounts the cheaper article.
By the advice of a fallacious [Footnote: Fallacious: misleading,
deceptive.] local saddler, a leather pad was made for me with rings to
fasten on my bundle; and I thoughtfully completed my kit and arranged my
toilette. By way of armory and utensils, I took a revolver, a little
spirit lamp and pan, a lantern and some halfpenny candles, a jack-knife
and a large leather flask. The main cargo consisted of two entire
changes of warm clothing, besides my travelling wear of country
velveteen, pilot coat, and knitted spencer, some books, and my
railway-rug, which, being also in the form of a bag, made me a double
castle for cold nights. The permanent larder was represented by cakes of
chocolate and tins of Bologna sausage. All this, except what I carried
about my person, was easily stowed into the sheepskin bag; and by good
fortune I threw in my empty knapsack, rather for convenience of carriage
than from any thought that I should want it on my journey. For more
immediate needs, I took a leg of cold mutton, a bottle of Beaujolais,
[Footnote: Beaujolais: a red wine made in southeastern France.] an empty
bottle to carry milk, an egg-beater, and a considerable quantity of
black bread and white for myself and donkey.
On the day of my departure I was up a little after five; by six we began
to load the donkey; and ten minutes after, my hopes were in the dust.
The pad would not stay on Modestine's back for half a moment. I returned
it to its maker, with whom I had so contumelious [Footnote:
Contumelious: rude and abusive.] a passage that the street outside was
crowded from wall to wall with gossips looking on and listening. The pad
changed hands with much vivacity; perhaps it would be more descriptive
to say that we threw it at each other's heads; and, at any rate, we were
very warm and unfriendly, and spoke with a deal of freedom.
I had a common donkey pack-saddle fitted upon Modestine; and once more
loaded her with my effects.
The bell of Monastier was just striking nine as I got quit of these
preliminary troubles and descended the hill through the common. As long
as I was within sight of the windows, a secret shame and the fear of
some laughable defeat withheld me from tampering with Modestine. She
tripped along upon her four small hoofs with a sober daintiness of gait;
from time to time she shook her ears or her tail; and she looked so
small under the bundle that my mind misgave me. We got across the ford
without difficulty--there was no doubt about the matter, she was
docility itself--and once on the other bank, where the road begins to
mount through pine-woods, I took in my right hand the unhallowed staff,
and with a quaking spirit applied it to the donkey. Modestine brisked up
her pace for perhaps three steps, and then relapsed into her former
minuet. [Footnote: Minuet: a slow, stately dance.] Another application
had the same effect, and so with the third. I am worthy the name of an
Englishman, and it goes against my conscience to lay my hand rudely on a
female. I desisted, and looked her all over from head to foot; the poor
brute's knees were trembling and her breathing was distressed; it was
plain that she could not go faster on a hill. God forbid, thought I,
that I should brutalize this innocent creature; let her go at her own
pace, and let me patiently follow.
What that pace was, there is no word mean enough to describe, it was
something as much slower than a walk as a walk is slower than a run; it
kept me hanging on each foot for an incredible length of time; in five
minutes it exhausted the spirit and set up a fever in all the muscles of
the leg. And yet I had to keep close at hand and measure my advance
exactly upon hers; for if I dropped a few yards in to the rear, or went
on a few yards ahead, Modestine came instantly to a halt and began to
browse. The thought that this was to last from here to Alais [Footnote:
Alais: a town in southeastern France not far from the Rhone River.]
nearly broke my heart. Of all conceivable journeys, this promised to be
the most tedious. I tried to tell myself it was a lovely day; I tried to
charm my foreboding spirit with tobacco; but I had a vision ever present
to me of the long long roads, up hill and down dale, and a pair of
figures ever infinitesimally moving, foot by foot, a yard to the minute,
and, like things enchanted in a nightmare, approaching no nearer to the
goal.
In the meantime there came up behind us a tall peasant, perhaps forty
years of age, of an ironical snuffy countenance, and arrayed in the
green tail-coat of the country. He overtook us hand over hand, and
stopped to consider our pitiful advance.
"Your donkey," says he, "is very old?"