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!”

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.

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.