On some days, however, I was not so happy, for my mistress, now and then, hired me out to the children in the neighborhood. She was not well off, and on the days when she had nothing for me to do she was glad to earn something in this way.

And the people who hired me were not always good to me, as the following story will show:—

There were six donkeys in a row in the courtyard; I was the strongest and one of the most beautiful. Three little girls brought us oats in a bucket; as I ate I listened to the children talking.

Charles.—Come along, let us choose our donkeys. I’ll begin by taking this one (pointing me out with his finger).

“Yes, you always take what you think is the best,” said the six children all at once. “We must draw lots.”

Charles.—How can we draw lots, Caroline? Can we put the donkeys in a bag and draw them out like marbles?

Anthony.—Ha! ha! ha! The idea of donkeys in a bag! As if one could not number them 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6. Put the numbers in a bag and draw them out as they come.

“That is so, that is so,” cried the five others. “Ernest, make the number slips while we write them on the backs of the donkeys.”

“These children are stupid,” said I to myself; “if they had the sense of a donkey, instead of giving themselves the trouble of writing the numbers on our backs, they would simply place us along the wall; then the first would be 1, the second 2, and so on.”

Meanwhile Anthony had brought a large piece of charcoal. I was the first. He wrote a large 1 on my flank; while he was writing 2 on that of my comrade, I shook myself to show him that his invention was not very clever. In a moment the 1 had disappeared. “Stupid,” cried he, “I must begin again.”

While he was doing his number 1 over again, my comrade, who had seen me, and who was clever, shook himself in his turn. There was the 2 gone. Then Anthony began to get angry, and the others laughed and teased him. I made a sign to my comrades to let them go on, and then not one of us moved after being marked. Ernest returned with the numbers in his pocket-handkerchief. Each one drew.

While they were looking at their numbers, I made another sign to my comrades, and we all shook ourselves vigorously. Charcoal and numbers disappeared and all must be done over again! The children were angry; Charles was triumphant and sneering; Ernest, Albert, Caroline, Cecil and Louise, crying out against Anthony, who stamped his feet. They began to quarrel with each other, and my comrades and I began to bray.

The noise brought out the fathers and the mothers, to whom the matter was explained. One of the fathers at last thought of placing us in order along the wall. Then they made the children draw the numbers. “One!” cried Ernest. It was I. “Two!” said Cecil. It was one of my friends. “Three!” said Anthony, and so on until the last donkey was drawn. “Now, let us go,” said Charles; “I will start first.” “Oh! I shall catch up with you,” quickly answered Ernest. “I’ll wager you won’t,” said Charles. “I’ll wager I will,” replied Ernest. Charles struck his donkey and started at a gallop. Before Ernest had time to strike me with his whip, I started also, and at a rate which enabled us soon to overtake Charles and his donkey.

Ernest was delighted; Charles was furious and beat his donkey repeatedly. Ernest had no need to beat me; I ran like the wind, and passed Charles in a minute. I heard the others following, laughing and shouting.

“Bravo! donkey Number 1! He runs like a horse.” Pride gave me courage. I continued to gallop until we reached a bridge, where I stopped suddenly, for I saw that one of the large boards of the bridge was rotten. I did not wish to fall into the water with Ernest, so I decided to return to the others, who were far, far behind us.

“Gee up! Gee up! Donkey!” said Ernest, “over the bridge, my friend, over the bridge.” I would not go on; he hit me with his stick, but I continued to walk towards the others. “Obstinate, stupid brute! will you turn round and cross the bridge?” said he. I walked on towards my comrades, and joined them in spite of the insults and blows of this wicked boy.

“Why do you beat your donkey, Ernest?” cried Caroline; “he is very good; he took you like lightning, and made you pass Charles.” “I beat him because he would not cross the bridge,” said Ernest; “he took it into his head to turn back.” “Nonsense! that was because he was alone; now that we are all together, he will cross the bridge like the others.”

“Unhappy children,” thought I, “they all will tumble into the river. I must try to show them that there is danger;”—and again I started at a gallop, running towards the bridge, to the great satisfaction of Ernest and the other children, who shouted with joy. I galloped to the bridge, but as soon as I got there, I stopped suddenly as if I were afraid. Ernest was astonished, and urged me to go on. I drew back with a frightened look which still more surprised Ernest. The silly fellow saw nothing: the rotten board was, nevertheless, in plain sight. Presently the others rejoined us and looked on laughingly at Ernest’s attempts to make me cross. Then they got off their donkeys and each one pushed me and beat me without pity. But I did not stir.

“Pull him by his tail,” cried Charles; “donkeys are so stubborn, that when you want them to go backwards they go forwards.” Then they tried to catch hold of my tail.

I defended myself by kicking, upon which they all beat me at once, but in spite of this I would not move.

“Wait, Ernest,” said Charles, “I will go over first; your donkey will certainly follow me.”

He started to go on; I put myself across the entrance to the bridge. He made me turn by dint of blows.

“All right,” said I, “if this naughty boy wishes to drown himself, let him. I did what I could to save him; let him drown if he wishes so much to do so.”

No sooner had his donkey put his foot upon the rotten board than it broke, and there was Charles and his donkey in the water!

There was no danger for my comrade, because, like all donkeys, he could swim.

Charles struggled in frantic attempts to get out. “A stick! a stick!” he cried. The children screamed and ran here and there. At last Caroline found a long stick, picked it up and gave it to Charles, who seized it; but his weight dragged down Caroline, who called out for help.

Ernest, Anthony, and Albert ran to her. At last the unhappy Charles, who had by this time got more than he bargained for, was pulled out of the water soaked from head to foot. When he was safe the children began to laugh at his doleful appearance. Charles growing angry, the children jumped upon their donkeys and advised him to return to his home to change his clothes. Dripping wet he remounted his donkey. I laughed to myself at his ridiculous appearance.