“Ha! ha!” resumed Balaam, “you may prick up your ears, Jemmy, and look
surprised, but mark me: the more brutal a man is, the more will he
dread exposure: had Staples been allowed to give you the thrashing he
thought you deserved, it is probable his passion had soon subsided;
the reproof of the magistrate drew the eyes of the multitude upon him.
He dared not answer a man whose authority was so well known, and you
in consequence suffered for that which was really intended to do you a
service.”
Though my sides were actually smarting under this second proof of
Staple’s ferocity, there was something so incongruous in the reasoning
of Balaam, that I could not bring myself to believe him:--feigning
fatigue I betook myself to my old corner, and retraced the events of
the day.
“What then,” said I, mentally, “does virtue cease to be virtue when
exerted in behalf of an inferior species?--it cannot be!” And reverting
to the many anecdotes I had heard Mr. George Manton read to Miss
Caroline, (where the active humanity of man, as directed towards dumb
animals, was most feelingly panegyrised,) I felt clearly, that Balaam
was wrong, and for this once, took credit to myself for superior
discernment.
At length the Tunbridge season closed, and our master, whose love of
gain was insatiable, let us out to a bricklayer, who lived about a
mile distant. Behold your humble servant, Balaam and Juba, with three
neighbouring Donkies, harnessed in team! It is true, our feeding was
more regular, nor could we complain of its quantity, but you may
imagine my displeasure, when a pair of blinkers were affixed to my
head!--it seemed to impugn my character. Was I an impertinent, staring
Ass? Did they think I knew so little of good breeding that I could
not conduct myself without these screens? Balaam happened to be my
partner on the morning I made my _debût_ in the bricklayer’s employ.
Whispering my dislike to these things, the old gentleman, as usual,
laughed at me.
“Why, Jemmy, you will always be a child,” said he; “I thought you had
drawn a garden chair at Mrs. Fenton’s; of course their harnessing was
not complete! Blinkers are indispensably necessary to draught animals;
they constrain us to look straight forward, and thus expedite our
progress.”
“They look very ugly,” said I; “though I now recollect horses wear
them.”
“Undoubtedly,” resumed Balaam. “Use has taught me to consider them a
pleasant shade to the eye. But, my dear Jem, let me advise you to think
a little before you speak:--here are six of us, and one man drives us;
could he do so if our attention was diverted from side to side? if we
were at liberty to look about us?--the thing would be impossible. No,
we must plod on in the way you see, and as I cannot suggest a better
fashion, nor hope to see it adopted if I could, pray learn like other
Donkies to bear with blinkers.”
“I suppose I must,” sighed I: “but surely, Mr. Balaam, you cannot
admire the language of our driver? For my part, I dont understand the
man:--gee up! and waugh! what does he mean by such strange words?”
“You will understand him presently,” smiled Balaam; “nor is there any
thing to complain of in the words themselves, their _accompaniment_ is
sometimes rather painful. All you have to do, is to catch their meaning
and avoid the blow to which your stupidity or obstinacy may expose you.”
“Mighty well,” I replied; “so these rationals expect us to understand
_them_, though they seldom recognise our meaning.”
“There are good masters as well as good servants,” continued Balaam,
“and our present employer is a very good man--I have served him before:
but there is an enthusiasm in your nature, my dear Jem, which does not
tend to make you happy. If we are subordinate to man, he is likewise
under controul, and that to his own species too--a kind of subjection
to which we are strangers. How would you like to be the servant of a
rich, over-fed Donkey, that kept you at work early and late, fed you
scantily, yet expected you to be humble and contented?”
“Oh, horrible!” said I; “say no more, my dear Balaam; blinkers are
very pleasant things. I dare say our driver has the happiest way of
imparting his meaning; I shall soon comprehend his gee ho’s! &c.”
and using my feet rather adroitly, old Balaam could not refrain from
laughing.
“Spare my old legs,” said he, “and take care that your friskiness does
not displease the carter.”
I fell into a quiet pace, and was delighted to find my old Mentor was
well disposed to bear with my vivacity. Nearly two months elapsed in
the service of Mr. Maxwell, the bricklayer, when we returned to our old
master.
One of Staples’s boys was ill of the ague, and the doctor advised
change of air: after some deliberation they proposed sending him to
Bromley, (likewise in Kent,) where they had a relation. I was saddled
one Sunday morning, and, with the invalid on my back, set off for
Bromley.
“Tom,” said my master as we were just departing, “tell cousin Smith, if
he can get a chap for the Donkey he may sell him; I’ve no mind to the
fellow since the race-day.”
Tom promised to tell his cousin and we proceeded. I did not dislike
this intimation, yet I grieved to think I had not taken leave of
Balaam, whose good sense had so entirely won my affections, it was
really painful to me to think we might never meet again.--Our journey
was rather tedious, poor Tom’s malady having weakened him so much as
almost to incapacitate him for a guide;--it was past ten o’clock ere we
reached Bromley. The night was cold and dark, and the reception of the
invalid such as impressed me with no very favourable opinion of cousin
Smith’s hospitality. I was turned to graze in a swampy field where
an old horse was quietly reposing after the fatigues of the week.
Excepting the short period in which I was the gipsies’ servant, I had
never slept but under a shelter. Balaam had deplored this circumstance
as unfitting me for the vicissitudes he believed to be inseparable
from my fortunes as an Ass. Never having considered the matter in this
point of view, how great was my restlessness on the night in question!
I believe I should have wasted the hours in idle regrets, had not the
calm fortitude of my neighbour awakened a more just train of reflection.
“This Animal,” sighed I, “is of a class peculiarly favoured by man;
and perhaps, were I acquainted with his early history, I should find
he too has tasted the luxuries of life, and in a degree superior to
those I have enjoyed; he may have been a successful Racer.” As this
idea took possession of my mind, something like a feeling of conscious
inferiority checked my discontent, and I composed myself to sleep;
where, I beg my readers will suffer me to rest for a few hours.