Chapter VI: Part 6

Ah! how I longed for the shadows of evening to fall; when, left to myself, I might put my design into execution! It was late ere this happy moment arrived--and when it came, I found I should have many difficulties to encounter. In the first place, the fair continued to be illuminated till nearly midnight,--secondly, I was in a field surrounded by a high bank and a well-secured gate,--and thirdly, there were other animals besides myself within this enclosure. I imagine that I took a short nap, for on a sudden I was startled by some noise, and on looking around found the fair was in darkness, and the sky spangled with stars. “This, then, is the moment,” thought I; and creeping towards the bank, I placed my fore-feet in the earth and peeped over. The regular snoring of a pig (as I imagined,) met my ear,--“then I am safe,” I continued, “for dirty as these animals are, they do not absolutely _sleep_ in ditches;” and with an agility quite extraordinary considering the fatigue I had undergone, I reached the summit, descended a few paces on the other side, still encouraged by the somnific harmony of the pig, when, finding the earth moist towards the bottom, I hesitated,--it began to give way, my feet were sliding, and the smell of stagnant water offended my nose. Retreat was impracticable. I recollected that the she Ass would encounter any difficulty in behalf of her young ones, and even from attachment to her master; and making a plunge, gained Terra Firma. Scarcely had I time to congratulate myself on this exploit, ere I stumbled over something soft--the snoring instantly ceased, and the voice of a man vociferated, “Murder! thieves! help!” I took to my heels, not stopping to take breath until out of hearing of these appalling sounds. It was impossible to refrain from smiling at my mistake. There could be no doubt I had taken this gentleman for a pig! But time was precious, and I dared not indulge the mirth to which this circumstance gave rise. Hampstead church steeple was to be my guide, the night was yet too dark to direct me accurately; so turning to a small common in my way, I endeavoured to cleanse myself from the contamination of the odious ditch.

At that moment the church clock struck four,--I pricked up my ears and followed the sound. The grey light of morn was beginning to unveil the hill--the prospect refreshed my spirits--and as I trotted on, I could not help rejoicing, that so pleasant a spot was the residence of the invalid Balaam. “How surprised he will be!” would I say to myself. “Yes, I know he will be delighted to see me, when I convince him I have no intention to desert my present employer.” He was surprised! but I must reserve that and another adventure for a new chapter.

CHAP. XVII.

_An Asylum._

I should have told you, Juba’s home being contiguous to the fair, he did not sleep at West-end. This circumstance proved fortuitous to me. It was now broad day-light, and I was impatient to snatch a hasty interview with dear Balaam and return to Mr. Ford. I had peeped into many enclosures, and regarded the figure of half a dozen Donkeys without tracing any likeness to my friend, when Juba made his appearance:--he absolutely started when he saw me.

“In the name of prudence, have you wandered hither to see Balaam?” asked he.

I answered in the affirmative, entreating him to lead me to the old gentleman.

“I cannot do that,” he replied; “my master has just called me to be harnessed; but if you cross the road behind that villa,” pointing with his chin, “behind that villa you will find Balaam: he is in good care, and I really think looks better this morning, though I had but a slight glimpse of him from my field. I fear you will suffer for this, Jemmy,” he continued; “beware of the pound; and if possible retrace your path before you are missed.”

He scampered off--while I, with similar speed, approached the white villa. How my heart palpitated when I caught a glance of his long ears! His figure seemed emaciated--but it was the wreck of a handsome Donkey, graceful even in its decline. Putting my lips to the palings, I gently repeated his name--he listened for a moment--“My dearest Mr. Balaam!” said I--he was before me in an instant.

“Dear Jem, is it you!” he exclaimed; and we rubbed our noses together with unrestrained affection.

“I know your situation,” he added; “Juba gave me a brief account of your meeting yesterday; but, much as I value your friendship, my dear fellow, I tremble for the consequences of your present truancy.”

“I shall have time to get back,” I replied. “Oh! let me enjoy the delight of beholding you once more! How often I have thought of you I cannot describe.”

My old friend was visibly affected by my manner, tears filled his eyes, and for a few seconds we were silent. Just then, a tall, elegant-looking man crossed the field, and bounding over a gate, alighted close at my side. I must think that the finest perception of a Donkey lies in his nose; mine was so sensibly affected on this occasion, I scarcely knew how to express myself--every nerve was in agitation--I felt it was my dear young master, Mr. George Manton--and forgetting that deference Asses owe to man, ran after him, pursuing his footsteps so steadily as to excite his notice; he turned, and I beheld it was he; he looked at me kindly, and then proceeded. It was not self-interest, gentle reader; there were a thousand reasons against a man’s retaining any recollection of an Ass:--but no time or distance could obliterate from my memory, the amiable conduct of this young man.

I continued to follow him. Touched, as I suppose, by the singularity of my attentions, he leaned against a tree regarding me steadfastly. I ventured to approach nearer--walked round him--and at last rubbed my head against his sleeve. “This is very extraordinary,” said he, musingly; “poor Caroline, if I thought this really was, or could be, your old favourite, I would purchase him at any price.”

These words transfixed me. Whether the expression of my countenance confirmed his suspicion, or the strong dark line which extended the whole length of my back, and had occasioned Miss Marden to say I was marked like a zebra--to which of these his reflections were given, I will not determine. Suffice it to say, I was highly gratified by his manner; convinced, that a man of his dispositions would not only be pleased with the attachment of a dumb animal, but take delight in cherishing his fidelity. Determined on putting my sagacity to the test, he climbed a bank and was lost to my view: I instantly set off at a canter, braying most sonorously. He re-appeared at a considerable distance, and I hastened to him with all imaginable speed.

“Poor fellow,” said he, opening a gate, “I must think you know me: come along.” I continued by his side until we reached a meadow belonging to the beautiful white cottage: here he left me for a while, and to my inexpressible delight, I found Balaam was my neighbour--only separated from me by an elegant wire fence. I related my adventure--he listened with profound attention.

“It promises well,” said he, “but you are the servant of another--who is most probably seeking you at this moment.”

I sighed; and dreading lest Balaam should enforce the propriety of my immediate departure, began making a few desultory inquiries respecting the owners of the villa. He knew little of them--they were customers of his master’s (who was a baker)--and he believed Mr. Manton to be a relation of the family, as he often saw him playing with the children. White bridles and smart saddles no longer engaged my vanity; but if I could attain a service amongst children, (provided they were humane,) it seemed the only station in which my shattered limbs could make me moderately useful.

It would be impossible to describe my feelings during the absence of Mr. Manton; every sound made my heart flutter.

At length he returned, accompanied by a lady and three children, two girls and a boy.

“Now observe him, Charlotte,” said Mr. George, addressing the lady, and walking across the field: I pursued him.

The lady laughed--declared it was extraordinary, but she united in thinking I was the identical animal he described.

“I must go town,” continued my dear young master, “but the Donkey must remain here; if any owner arrives, offer what you think fair--at all events buy him: you see his legs are not sound, but he will do for the children.”

“Thank you, cousin George,” said the children in a breath; “how nice it will be to ride about the fields on a Donkey!”

Mr. Manton kissed them and departed.

What a revolution in my favour had a few hours produced!--My spirits were in a state of intoxication--it was a happiness too perfect to appear real! “Am I really at home?” said I, mentally,--“may I range this field, drink from that clear pond, and see my dear master daily?--Oh! this is too much!” And taking a roll on the grass, I endeavoured to tranquillize my feelings. The equitable arrangement Mr. Manton had made respecting my purchase, entirely quieted my conscience with regard to Mr. Ford. He would act for my real owner, Mrs. Dawes, and I had that opinion of Ford, that he would deal fairly by all parties. Balaam and I had a long chat in the afternoon: it was only then I discovered the immense ravages time had effected in the person of my friend. His intellects were as acute as ever--but his debility was a depressing contemplation to one who loved him as I did. “And is this venerable animal doomed to labour!” sighed I; “ah! what a fortunate Donkey am I!”

Mr. George returned in the evening, bringing in his gig a complete saddle and bridle for your humble servant: alas! with what distinct feelings did I view these once desired ornaments! No Ass of common delicacy but must be pleased to find himself decently dressed--but it was no longer the decorations of a _handsome_ Donkey:--in fact, I believe I should at the moment have been better pleased, had my liberal master selected a less conspicuous garb for me. But I found I was in error, and checked my presumptuous folly.

The distinction was a compliment to the children of his cousin, and I was vainly ascribing it to myself.

I was soon in a state of requisition. My duties were pleasant--for kindness and good-humour graced the little Herberts--they were truly amiable; forcibly reminding me of the Turner family. Towards evening, Mrs. Herbert and Mr. George walked into the field, when my master related a circumstance which claimed my entire attention.

“I saw an enemy of this poor animal’s to-day,” said he, “but I did not know how far he had betrayed the confidence my father reposed in him till this morning.” He then proceeded to state, that he had been to see Jenkins, an old servant of the doctor’s, who was under sentence of transportation. “Like most guilty men, checked in their career of vice,” continued Mr. George, “he reverts to his lesser crimes with the strongest compunction; no doubt, as being the foundation of his later turpitude, they may be considered as the primary causes of his ruin: yet, I am apt to think, conscience suggests this sort of compromise, as the least fearful contemplation to a guilty heart.”

“This is rather in favour of the actually penitent,” replied Mrs. Herbert; “the being who confesses his less glaring crimes, is doubtless well acquainted with himself; and when the law (as in this man’s case,) does not affect his life, we may forgive him if he refrains from criminating himself too scrupulously, provided he is resolved to turn from his evil ways, and offer his contrition where it may and will (if he is sincere) be accepted.”

“I suppose I thought as you do at the time,” replied Mr. George, with a benevolent smile; “I hope the wretched man will find some comforts provided for his voyage; I have seen the captain of the ship and given him directions to supply him with a certain sum on his arrival at their destined port, provided he conducts himself properly during the voyage. He was greatly affected on seeing me; related many impositions he had practised under our roof; and amongst others, said, he found poor Caroline’s Donkey in the possession of a gipsy, from whom he took it, and afterwards gave him in compensation to a man to whom he lost money at cards. He really seemed to deplore his injustice towards my father more than any other errors of his life.”

“No wonder,” replied Mrs. Herbert; “my uncle’s character is so uniformly amiable, that none but the most dissolute of beings could injure him, without feeling remorse at some future period.”

Here the conversation was suspended; but I, who had witnessed Jenkins’s cruelty to my dear mistress, was at a loss to account for his silence on this subject. Surely his want of duty, his unfeeling avarice towards her, were crimes of the deepest dye! I checked this effervescence of my zeal, and recollecting how leniently Mrs. Herbert had judged the wretched culprit, retracted my hasty censure; not less convinced it was presumptuous in an Ass to arraign a rational animal, than that a rational animal must pay the forfeit of his errors even though our verdict is withheld.

In less than a week from this epoch, my excellent Mr. George, through the medium of an advertisement, had settled my transfer with Mr. Ford; and I now felt secure and happy. I might say, it was only now I tasted real happiness.--My feelings were calmed; none of those chimeras which had mislead me in the season of health and beauty, now ruffled my temper: nay, that very sameness in my duties, that had formerly appeared tedious, from being suited to my present infirmities, excited that active gratitude in my bosom which I have every reason to believe was daily appreciated by my owners. In fact I know it was, and you shall know my reasons for this self-assurance ere I take my leave.

It used to grieve me to see Balaam go out to work: it is true his business was not laborious, but to my idea, he was not in a state of convalescence when called to resume his duties; and I trembled least a relapse should ensue. How flattering it was to my feelings, to hear the dear old Donkey declare, my lively chit chat kept him alive. Many a moonlight night have we loitered over our palings, each unwilling to bid adieu. Juba, would sometimes join us, and his society was agreeable, but as he could only give us this pleasure by stealth, (having two or three fields to cross and the chance of finding Balaam’s gate fastened) we were never quite sure of his company, a circumstance that Balaam used laughingly to say gave a greater zest to his visits.

I understood the old gentleman, but had too much value for his opinions to question their justice; he alluded to that love of adventure, which had certainly had too much influence on my actions.

However, thinking it impossible he could again have occasion to reprove me in this particular, I rather encouraged his cheerful sallies as indications of improving health.

You will scarcely believe it gentle readers, but so it happened, I did transgress again; and having announced myself a Donkey of veracity, I suppose I must relate the fact, nor will you wonder at my prolixity in its detail, when you learn what serious reasons I have for remembering this my last juvenile frolic.

From the moment of my being established at Hampstead, I resolved on writing my memoirs; but such was the deference I felt for Balaam’s judgment, I wanted courage to apprize him of my intention; yet I was determined to arrange my plan, trusting to some fortunate moment for asking his advice and assistance, if possible. About this period, a very elegant lady Ass, used to ramble down our lane every morning. Balaam had spoken of her talents with much respect. “She has seen the world,” said he one morning after she departed; “I don’t know, that I ever met a more intelligent Ass.”--Now I had observed rational beings to pay great respect to elderly females, seeming to consider their opinions valuable, “Ah!” thinks I, “if this sensible Ass would condescend to encourage my attempt, it might prove a passport to the countenance of Balaam; at least there could be no harm in sounding her on the subject.” The next evening proved auspicious to my design. Balaam greatly fatigued retired early; one of the Miss Herberts had left the gate open, and I sallied forth in quest of Mrs. Scamper, (for so she was called.) Well, I wandered from enclosure to enclosure, the night was getting dark and no Mrs. Scamper to be seen; when just as I was preparing to return home, I thought I heard her mellifluous bray,--I paused, stood in mute attention; but the sound died away, or if it was repeated the sullen church clock had drowned the enchanting harmony. How authorship affects other Animals, I know not; with me, it was beginning to be an imperious feeling, it was my daily thoughts and my nightly dream,--thus a confidant was absolutely necessary to my repose, either to patronise my undertaking or repress my ambition. With these feelings I resolved to absent myself from home this one night,--daylight would facilitate my return, and as I was assured the _musical_ bray I had heard could issue from none other than the amiable Mrs. Scamper, I determined to remain near the spot till morning. A public road, however, is no secure place for an unoccupied Donkey. I therefore turned down a lane making my supper _en passant_. It was nearly midnight, when stealing near some palings that enclosed a neat modern cottage, a small gate gave way, and afforded me ingress into the fore court. I walked leisurely over the lawn, approached the house, when the night breeze wafted a fresh and most grateful odour under my nose. I raised my head, and found a well-loaded Vine whose fruit tempted my palate. I fear I was somewhat voracious in my attack; making as free with the branches as the fruit. I had eaten half way round the house, when I heard a whispering within. Thinks I, “it is time to decamp;” and treading as lightly as possible, still keeping close to the house, my ears touched a wire which communicated from a trellis work door-frame to the house;--a bell, immediately tinkled--I took to my heels--but ere I reached the outer gate, a gun was fired from a window above,--it grazed my tail. I scarcely knew whether I was wounded or not, so great was my alarm! “Thieves and Murder,” were the words which followed this warlike defence; but I had paid too dearly for my dessert, to wait further chastisement. I ran as though the enemy had actually been at my heels; nor stopped till I reached the cow-house of Mrs. Herbert. Here, I found time to reflect on my folly; but, neither the fright I had endured, nor the injury my tail had sustained, was to be compared to my shame at having such a tale to relate to Balaam.--“He will think me incorrigible,” sighed I, and I wept as I anticipated our next meeting. While I was thus the victim of self-accusation, the cowherd approached, and unlocking the door was entering, when I thrust by him, well knowing if I could make my way through the shed, I should gain my own meadow. Alas! in my haste, I perceived not a bar which crossed the interior door; the good fellow knew me, and was throwing open the door when the bar fell on my back, and I sunk on the ground.

It was some minutes ere I could rise, and when I did, was but too sensible I had received an incurable injury. Hobbling to my immediate residence I threw myself on the grass, the kind cowherd following and pitying me, in accents of the most compassionate interest. I was soon surrounded by the dear children, whose artless expressions, and tender caresses, at once filled me with gratitude and touched me with remorse.

“Silly Ass that I was,” said I mentally, “to be seeking patronage, when I possessed the friendship of such disinterested beings as these!” Yet, as my pain in some measure subsided, the excess to which my desire of fame had exposed me, seemed an additional motive for giving publicity to my follies. “It may warn the thoughtless Donkey,” thought I, “and teach him to curb those aberrations of the imagination that have made me a cripple for life.” As these reflections occupied my mind, Balaam peeped over my fence.

“What has happened?” said he, the liveliest sympathy agitating his aged frame.--I explained myself _ad libitum_, not omitting my authorship propensity. Balaam looked surprised, and I really believed entertained some doubts of my sanity; but with his usual consideration, started no objections, simply saying, “it was not a time to talk of mental exertion, when my bodily weakness claimed every attention that friendship could bestow.” Dear old Donkey, yes! yours were not professions: how would he watch my gait, and comfort me with the hope, that time (by reconciling me to the awkwardness of my carriage, and the slow pace I was compelled to use,) would teach me to be grateful, that no more serious consequences had attended my inauspicious search after patronage!

CHAP. XVIII.

_A Congress of Donkeys,--and Conclusion._

You will believe my young master was not an unmoved spectator of my sufferings. It was on this occasion he expressed himself in terms which at once convinced me of his humanity, and assured me, that even an Ass by diligence and fidelity may make a lasting friend of man.

“Charles,” said Mr. George addressing master Herbert, “so long as you condescend to ride a Donkey, I make you master of this poor animal;--your Sisters will of course share him with you as usual, but I give him to you. I know I can rely on your using him well, and I recommend your preventing him from wandering, by cautiously shutting the gates. And my dear Charlotte,” turning to Mrs. Herbert, “I have a request to make of you,--never part with this faithful creature; but should he become useless have him at liberty to range about the grounds. I am persuaded you will oblige me, for you, equally with myself, loved the dear girl to whose comfort he contributed most materially.”

Mrs. Herbert was evidently affected by this reference to the sweet Caroline; she willingly acceded to the request of my master, promising she would take care of me so long as I lived.

This arrangement, threw me into raptures, and had I been as agile as formerly, no doubt I should have evinced my joy by a thousand lively antics; as it was, I could only look my delight; and if the eyes of a Donkey may be allowed to look brilliant, mine certainly did on this memorable occasion. Mr. George then turned to a livelier topic, and with great humour described my recent frolic. It appeared, that the gentleman on whose Vine I had regaled, was a friend of Mr. Manton’s; they had met since the eventful night, and Mr. Crosby when reporting the ridiculous alarm of his servants, declared he had never witnessed a more comic scene. It seems the gardener having missed some fruit (unknown to the family) slept with a loaded musket by his bed-side. My munching had been heard by this vigilant gentleman; and the frequent pulls I made at the Vine, led him to believe there must be a gang of thieves in the garden. The tinkling of the bell, he conceived to be unintentional on the part of the depredators;--but when I ran down the gravel path, he thought he had his man, and fired. Mr. Crosby, whom the report of firearms roused from his bed, instantly arose, and on quitting his room, found the male and female servants assembled on the landing-place.

“Depend upon it, it is that great Irishman, that said he was a haymaker,” said one of the women. “I tell you it’s no such thing,” replied the gardener, “it was a little short thickset man.”

“I beg your pardon Mr. Thomas, but for my part I’ve never closed my eyes to-night, which I reckon quite miraculous, and I have been listening for three hours or more, and at last I peeped through the curtains, and if ever I saw a tall, black, ill-looking fellow, he was one!”

Mr. Crosby now interfered, demanding the cause of the alarm, and who had presumed to keep loaded fire arms without his knowledge. The gardener excused his transgression by declaring the garden was robbed every night.

“But where’s the groom?” asked Mr. Crosby, “I thought this musket was in his care?”

“I begged it of him,” replied the gardener, “but Jack’s gone after the rascals, Sir;--we shall hear some’at of ’um. He would go, there was no hindering him, he got over the stables and dropped over the wall.”

Mr. Crosby thought fit to follow the dauntless Jack, making Thomas (most unwillingly), his companion. It appears, they met the groom a short distance from the house, who laughingly declared the thief to have been a poor Donkey, which he had followed all the way to Mrs. Herbert’s cow-house.--The gardener was not to be convinced:--he had seen the villain, nay more, he knew he should discover traces of blood in the morning, for he heard the fellow groan, and hobble off as if he was wounded!

Daylight, however, brought no proof of Mr. Tom’s accuracy;--there were no traces of blood, nor any print of a human footstep. The Vine was stripped to a certain height all round the house, the bell-wire bent, and the shoe-marks of some hoofed animal plentifully imprinted on the flower beds. Mrs. Herbert’s cow-herd further corroborated the testimony of the groom, by examining me, and discovering my tail to have been singed. Thus the tall Irish hay-maker, and the little fat man, dwindled into no more formidable an animal than a poor giddy Donkey, who finding himself unexpectedly placed in the way of temptation, had not resolution to resist its allurements.

As I listened to this whimsical fact, I could not help wondering at the extraordinary difference there must be in the sight of men and women, and that of Donkeys. Did all these people say what they believed to be truth; or, did fear lead them astray? From what Mr. George said in conclusion, it would appear, each of these persons maintain their assertion, and though in the hearing of their master they avoid the subject; enjoy amongst themselves that most delightful of all predilections (with the ignorant,)--“a tale of terror.” Now if we were to indulge such a taste, when conviction so palpably proved our mistake, we should be called obstinate Asses. Query--What are these gentry?

But I have done with adventures; and in this stage of my existence, when I am pressing forward as a candidate for Donkey fame, feel all the presumption and danger of attempting further analysis of the _human_ character.

As my spirits recovered their tone, Balaam reverted to my hints respecting authorship. I hung my ears, and no doubt looked very silly as he commenced his harangue. I thought my answers, however, had their effect. He was silent for a few minutes, when, resting his nose on my fence, as was his custom, he asked, what I anticipated from the publication of my memoirs.

“Why, my dear Sir,” said I, “the writer who neither desires nor could be benefited by pecuniary emolument, has some right to be considered a disinterested scribe. I grant that our lives exhibit none of those marvellous incidents that can amuse the romantic, but surely, if a genuine history of a very useful animal was submitted to the public, it might teach that public to estimate their services more agreeably to humanity.”

“The attempt is hazardous,” replied Balaam, “in fact, my dear Jemmy, I feel so timid on the subject, so fearful of encouraging you to do that which may expose you to derision, I would rather you sought the advice of some Ass better qualified to give you counsel on a matter of such importance.”

“If you approved,” said I, despairingly, “what were the whole race of Donkeys to me!”

“I cannot apply, for I do not deserve this compliment,” resumed Balaam;--“however, not to dismiss the subject too abruptly, suppose we were to convene a meeting of the best informed Donkeys of our acquaintance, and take their opinions.--It could do no harm, and may exonerate me from that appearance of fastidiousness which I perceive has had its effect on your spirits.”

I denied this, but I fear rather awkwardly, for Balaam with a smile added, “you may ride your _hobby_ yet Jem, younger heads, and more sanguine Asses, may see this matter in a different point of view; I think Juba must be our secretary on this occasion. Shall I depute him to apprize our friends of your wishes?”

“My dear Sir,” I replied, “if I am not asking too much, will you allow the committee to be assembled in your name?”

“That, is incompatible with my principles, dear Jem. It is a serious thing to lend one’s name in a case of this nature, nor could it be done, without in a manner, announcing me as favouring your design; and as I at present cannot give you encouragement to prosecute your plan, I would rather remain a neuter personage, in this stage of the business.”

“Then I must give it up altogether,” sighed I.

“By no means,” continued Balaam, “Juba shall intimate, that you have suggested a plan, which you conceive to be beneficial to the Donkey world at large: but that, unwilling to rely on your own judgment, you request the presence of such of our mutual friends, as are interested in the lives and fortunes of the Assinine community.”

“Admirable!” I exclaimed, “nothing can be better, we shall muster pretty strong no doubt.--But my dear Sir, you will give me your support?”

“I will broach the subject, Jemmy,” he resumed, “but recollect, it will be with the utmost impartiality.”

“Enough, my respected friend, I feel all the value of this condescension, and can never sufficiently express my gratitude.”

“I will imagine it to be such as I prize,” rejoined Balaam, “viz, sincere. But now my good fellow, compose your spirits; and as authorship is your passion, arrange your thoughts, and prepare yourself to submit them to the ears of our committee.”

We parted, and it was now I felt all the temerity of my project. Stretching my length upon the grass, I began (in idea,) to polish my language, smooth my periods and according to Donkey taste, improve my style altogether. But I found this a most unprofitable if not an endless rumination;--what I liked one moment I rejected in the next. “I believe I must trust a little to the imagination,” said I to myself,--“that is, not in point of fact, but for that colouring which a favourite subject ever receives from the fancy.”

Again, I recollected I was preparing a work expressly designed for the juvenile world, a class of readers who demand the best efforts of all who presume to address them; and perhaps in point of criticism, there is not a more formidable ordeal, than that which is sometimes instituted by these caviling young gentry. “Tush!” said I, “they cannot expect much from an Ass, a simple, self-taught Donkey.” In short though the sanction of the committee was yet wanting, I did not find my scribbling mania subside, that happy leisure on which I could now securely reckon, increased my desire of imparting my memoirs; and, when Balaam the next evening whispered me, that I might expect the junto at eight o’clock the ensuing night, I gave myself up to meditation scarcely taking food or nourishment, so completely was my every feeling absorbed in that of authorship.

At the appointed hour, I beheld the assembled group consisting of Balaam, Mrs. Scamper, Juba, Dicky, Snap, Fairy, Hob, Bobtail, Fatima and Vixen.--By a whimsical concurrence, Balaam’s field gate was unclosed,--thus I, from my green fence, appeared as if placed at the bar, before my judges. Balaam opened the sitting, in a forcible but impartial statement of my wishes. I saw some ears particularly erect, and Mrs. Vixen stepped forward and examined my countenance with deep scrutiny. Balaam proceeded, without noticing this lady’s rudeness; as he made his peroration, a silence of a few seconds ensued. Mrs. Vixen, with a grin, was on the eve of replying, when Balaam good-naturedly observed, “Seniority of age must have the preference,” bowing to Mrs. Scamper.

“Then I may take a nap,” retorted Vixen, “for I believe I am the youngest lady in the committee.”

We all smiled, well knowing madam Vixen had made an egregious mistake. Mrs. Scamper, however, advanced towards my fence, and in a voice of conciliating harmony, addressed me as follows:--

“If I am not misinformed, Mr. Jemmy, your proposed publication is designed for the use and amusement of young people; then how do you hope to benefit your species by an address to children; beings under authority; incapable of doing us service, even were they so disposed?”

“It is with the utmost deference I venture to avow a contrary opinion, madam,” I replied: “children of amiable manners, have much influence in society; particularly amongst their inferiors. A well-educated child may, in the most graceful manner, and in language at once appropriate and kind, reprove the inhumanity of the less informed, and since we have been appointed to the distinction of carrying ladies and gentlemen, drawing garden-chairs, &c. &c. this sort of interference becomes a point of some importance.”

Mrs. Scamper smiled; “I know it is a thankless office to oppose the favourite project of an ardent mind,” said she, “but until I hear something of your plan, and the incidents it is to comprise, I must continue to doubt its utility.”

“I differ from you, ma’am,” interjoined Snap; “so many rational Asses have thrust their histories on the public, I can see no reason for preventing a _genuine_ Ass from telling his own story.”

There was such an emphasis laid on the word genuine by this petulant Donkey, that I really rejoiced Madam Luna denied us her beams; I felt that I blushed profusely, and had not the gentle voice of Fatima rallied my aroused feelings, I believe I should have retorted.

“Mr. Jemmy,” said the charming Fatima, “I applaud your intention, and sincerely hope you will carry it into execution: allow me to ask, if you propose to make your work a general or an individual memoir?”

“Individual, madam,” I replied, “but interspersed with anecdote and observations.”

“Ah!” she resumed, “to be sure you are the best judge; yet I must think our genus, from its antiquity and the honourable mention made of us in the best and most valuable of records, offers a wide field for exalting us in the estimation of the present generation.”

Here old Balaam drew nearer the fence, evidently desirous of attending to my reply.

“My dear madam,” said I, “I was fully aware of this, and would gladly have availed myself of testimonials so irrefragably convincing and distinguished; but we are no longer the animals we were! The horse has superseded us! Our very name is a by-word amongst the vulgar! And, our occupations, (though varying in laboriousness as in respectability,) yet expose us so much to the ludicrous, that I would rather forbear from quoting the proofs you mention, than blend them with matter irreverent.”

“But, Jem,” interjoined Balaam, “as you would turn author in the service of children, how can you reconcile this omission?”

“Sir,” I replied, “the children for whom my humble efforts would be exerted, must of course have some acquaintance with the Sacred Writings; and it is from them I should expect that blending of authentic record and individual history, that might ultimately prove beneficial to my species.”

“You have my free assent from this moment,” rejoined Balaam; “it was this one point which led me to oppose your scheme. I will hope your reasoning is just, for it is agreeable to principle--and that view of the human character, it has ever been my wish to entertain.”

“So then,” exclaimed Mrs. Vixen, “you expect great things from your undertaking! Well, vanity is a fine dream, till we wake and find it _but_ a dream.”

“We shall never get a blow less, nor an additional mouthful of hay, for all the wisest of Donkeys could say in our favour,” sneered Snap.

“I think I saw you once in Kent, Mr. Jemmy,” resumed Mrs. Vixen, “at the Tunbridge Races. You may remember my husband won the saddle. You must have been very nervous at that time; it quite surprised my friends to see you frightened by a _penny trumpet_--ha! ha! ha!”

“Madam,” I replied, “I have not forgotten the circumstance: the penny trumpet shall be duly mentioned in my memoirs; I will neither increase its size, nor enhance its value; nor will I omit to name Mr. Vixen’s talents as a racer.”

It was in this stage of my examination that Juba stepped forward.

“I do not pretend to know any thing of books or histories of any kind,” said he; “but if you do publish your life, Jemmy, do not forget to say something of Donkey prejudices and Donkey satire.”

It is clear he alluded to Mrs. Vixen, and I was alarmed lest the junto should squabble amongst themselves, and prematurely dissolve the meeting.

“It was my firm intention to be just,” I replied; “and if a Donkey may pledge his honour, I here declare, I will not

--“‘Extenuate, nor aught set down in malice.’”

“Then now, Mr. Jem,” said Hob, “give us a brief sketch of your intended history.”

I complied--but not without considerable embarrassment: my situation was in truth very trying. To see so many long ears stretched to catch my accents--to hear two or three (as I thought) dissentient snorts, as certain observations escaped my lips--how I got through my task, even at this moment appears extraordinary. Yet I accomplished it, and obtained a majority.

Bobtail, who was of a phlegmatic character, astonished us all by entering into the spirit of my memoirs. “What you say of soot-carrying,” said he, “is strictly true; I could almost have fancied the odious powder was under my nose: yes, I know what it is to carry bags, and chimney-sweepers too.”

Dicky and Miss Fairy evinced little interest during the first part of the discussion; but perceiving they whispered, I thought it possible timidity restrained them from offering an opinion. Therefore, addressing myself to Miss Fairy, I begged she would favour me with her sentiments.

“Indeed I have no opinion to give,” she replied, petulantly; “Mr. Dicky and I to be sure, have remarked, that you have said very little of the beauty of lady Asses, though one ought not to be offended at that; for some Donkeys are too much taken up with themselves to think of any thing else.”

This was a terrible attack upon a Donkey who had the highest respect for the fair sex.

“Madam” I rejoined, “I trust those who know me will exonerate me from the imputation of being insensible to the worth of the female Ass. If my memoir enters more largely into the sufferings of Donkeys, it is, because I hope and believe, excessive labour and hard usage are more particularly their lot. Of the utility and worth of our feminine friends, none but an illiterate Ass could entertain a doubt. That I have not attempted the language of the flatterer, is a point on which I pride myself; for though this style is said to be a favourite one with _Asses_, I have not availed myself of the privilege,--not less cautious of injuring the morals of my own class, than fearful of appearing as the copyist of a higher order of animals.”

The committee now dispersed; and Balaam with an impressive adieu retired to repose.

I saw the dear old Ass go out to his accustomed work next morning, and, occupied by my own projects, night again revolved ere the claims of friendship refreshed my memory. Nine, ten, eleven o’clock--and no Balaam. I lingered near the fence, cheating the tedious minutes by a thousand vague conjectures; at length, wearied with watching, I sunk into a light slumber, from which I was awakened by the well-known voice of Juba; it was day-break, and a cold rainy morning.

“Jemmy,” said my friend Juba, “you have been alarmed by the absence of our poor Balaam?”

“Yes, indeed, Juba, most seriously alarmed.”

“Alas!” he resumed, “our anxiety on his account is at an end--you will see him no more--the excellent Balaam is dead.”

“Dead!” I exclaimed; “tell me when and where he died.”

“It happened yesterday morning; I overtook his master in Tottenham-Court Road; our old friend lay extended quite senseless, and by what I heard from the crowd, his death was occasioned by a fit.”

This melancholy intelligence affected me deeply; I had lost my early counsellor, my constant friend; and the only consolation now left me, was to talk of him, an indulgence in which Juba feelingly participated.

One evening, after having enjoyed this luxury, my mind yet dwelling on his virtues, the following tribute to his memory escaped me:--

_To the Memory of Balaam._

If ever Donkey claim’d the meed of fame,
Balaam! that honour should adorn thy name;
Born to do credit to thy helpless race,
In thee each virtue of the Ass we trace;
Patient, submissive, moderate in food,
Shaming the vicious, inspiring the good;
Thy bright example should for ever give
Rules, to succeeding Donkeys, how to live;
But, if inconstant feelings lead astray,
And, Asses yet, in Folly’s mazes bray,
One grateful convert shall thy worth proclaim,
And cherish virtue in thy much-loved name.

JEMMY.

Effusions of this description can never be generally interesting. The parties should be known to each other in order to excite that pleasing sympathy so soothing to friendship. As such, I shall freely forgive my readers though they criticise my poetic talents. I can only say, Juba applauded my little offering, and having a taste for recitation, has frequently gratified me by repeating them, with a pathos which had an excellent effect, according to my Donkey conception.

Shall I experience similar indulgence from my rational censors? Alas! I tremble at the idea of what may be my fate: yet, surely, the intentions of an author should have some weight with his readers, and mine, I boldly declare, are humane. I know that every living thing has feeling--that from man, who “walks erect and can contemplate the heavens,” to the “beetle that we tread upon,” each can feel;--that the great Disposer of the Universe hath placed his intelligent creatures above all the other works of his mighty hand: he has invested you with power, but that power must be tempered with mercy, or ye are no longer the servants in whom he will be “well pleased.”

If you have laughed with me through some of the preceding pages, let me hope you will not reject a brief admonition at the close of my literary attempt:--I positively assert, that I am a patriotic Ass; love my country, respect her laws, and take a lively interest in her prosperity; and though I stand up in the defence of my own class, I presume to think, the object I have in view does not, in the smallest degree, implicate us as a body. We are willing to give you our labour, submit to your guidance, and in all respects conduct ourselves as faithful servants, and the only return we ask is _kindness_--the simple offices of humanity. Would it were in my power to impart to your species a small portion of that habitual patience with which we are endowed! convinced as I am, that we more frequently suffer from the hasty temper than the actual insensibility of our masters. To the readers of my adventures I trust it will be sufficient to add,--that should any dumb animal fall under their temporary displeasure, I hope they will pause ere they deform themselves by cruelty, and bestow a thought on one who, having “felt persecution,” conceived himself qualified to implore mercy--one who, while he allows his fallibility as an Ass, has no hesitation in declaring himself,

The most respectful

And humble of Donkeys,

JEMMY.

HAMPSTEAD, MIDDLESEX,
_October 29th, 1814_.

THE END.

A LIST
OF IMPROVED BOOKS, &c.
FOR
CHILDREN,

RECENTLY PUBLISHED
BY
WILLIAM DARTON, JUN.
58, HOLBORN HILL,
(OPPOSITE ELY PLACE,)
LONDON.

1 _The little Vocabulary_, intended as an introduction to any of the larger Spelling-Books, and particularly designed to assist Mothers in the instruction of their young Children: By Mrs. Lovechild, price 6d

2 _The Modern Goody Two-shoes_; exemplifying the Good Consequences of early attention to Learning and Virtue. By Mary Belson, Author of “The Orphan Boy,” “Industry and Idleness,” &c. &c. price 1s

3 _The Yellow Shoe-strings_; or, the Good Effects of Obedience to Parents, price 1s

4 _Easy Reading_; adapted to the capacities of Children from Five to Seven Years old; designed to advance them by natural and easy gradations to the perusal of larger works; being a companion to, and intended to follow the “Little Vocabulary.” Divided into a number of short Lessons, and embellished with many wood cuts. By Mrs. Lovechild, price 1s

5 _Henry_: a Story for Little Boys and Girls from Five to Seven Years old. By Frances Bowyer Vaux. Part the First, price 1s

6 _Lectures at my School_; or, Play-Ground Conversations. By a Friend to Youth. Illustrated with fifty elegant Engravings, price 2s 6d half bound

7 _Learning better than House and Land_, as exemplified in the History of Harry Johnson and Dick Hobson. By J. CAREY, LL. D. 2s 6d half bound

8 _The Scripture Alphabet_, by a Parent for his Children; illustrated with twenty-seven Engravings from Scripture, price 1s

9 _My Real Friend_; or, Incidents in Life, founded on Truth. With several Copper-plates, price 1s

10 _Grateful Tributes_; or, Recollections of Infancy. By MARY BELSON, Author of “Industry and Idleness,” &c. price with plates 1s 6d or without plates 6d

11 _London_; a Descriptive Poem. Second Edition, corrected and illustrated with elegant Views on Copper-plates, price 1s

12 _The Adventures_ of the Celebrated little _Thomas Dellow_, who was stolen from his parents on the 18th of November, 1811, and restored to them on the 3d of January, 1812. Illustrated by eight characteristic Engravings, price 1s

13 _The First, or Mother’s Catechism_; containing Common Things necessary to be known at an Early Age. By the Rev. DAVID BLAIR, price 9d

14 _The French and English Primer_, or an easy Vocabulary of Twelve Hundred common Words for the Use of Children. By the ABBE BOSSUT, price 9d

15 _A Tour Through England_; described in a Series of Letters from a Young Gentleman to his Sister. With Copper-plates, third edition, revised price 3s

16 _A Visit to London_; containing a Description of the principal Curiosities of the British Metropolis. With six Copper-plates, price 2s 6d

17 _A Visit to a Farm House_, or an Introduction to various Subjects connected with Rural Economy. Embellished with beautiful Plates, price 2s 6d

18 _Mary and her Cat_; a Tale for Good Children, chiefly in Words of two Syllables, price 1s

19 _Juvenile Plutarch_; containing Accounts of the Lives of celebrated Children, and of the Infancy of persons who have been illustrious for their Virtues or talents. With Plates, 2 vols. price 5s

20 _The Juvenile Spectator_; being observations on the Tempers, Manners, and Foibles of various Young Persons; interspersed with such lively Matter, as it is presumed, will amuse as well as instruct. By ARABELLA ARGUS. 2 vols. 12mo. price 4s 6d each vol. bound

21 _The Wonders of the Telescope_, or a Display of the Starry Heavens and the System of the Universe: calculated to promote and simplify the Study of Astronomy. With fourteen Plates, price 6s

22 _The Wonders of the Microscope_, or an Explanation of the Wisdom of the Creator, in Objects comparatively minute, adapted to the Understanding of Young Persons. Illustrated with five large Copper-plates, price 4s 6d

23 _The Wonders of the Horse_; recorded in Anecdotes, and interspersed with Poetry. By JOSEPH TAYLOR, Author of “Tales of the Robin.” Price 2s 6d half bound

24 _The Mice and their Pic Nic_; an Allegorical Tale, representing the Manners and Customs of the present Age; in Contentment--a Fashionable Visitor--High Breeding--the Effects of Fashion--the Epicure--an Invitation--a Consultation and Journey--a Season in London--Etiquette, &c. price 1s coloured Plates, or 6d plain

25 _Animal Creation_, or the Power of the Supreme Being attempted to be unfolded to the Minds of the Rising Generation. By a Parent. Containing many engravings of Animals in Wood, price 6d

26 _Dix’s Juvenile Atlas_; containing forty-four Maps, with plain Directions for copying them; designed for Junior Classes. 4to. half bound, price 10s 6d plain, or 14s full coloured

27 _The Orphan Boy_, or a Journey to Bath: Founded on Fact. By MARY BELSON, price 2s half bound

28 _The Sphinx_, or Allegorical Lozenges. By a Descendant of Cleobulina, an ancient composer of Enigmas, &c. price 9d

29 _On the Education of Daughters_; translated from the French of the ABBE FENELON, afterwards Archbishop of Cambray. 12mo. extra boards, price 2s 6d with a beautiful Frontispiece

30 _A Description_ of the most remarkable _Trees Plants and Shrubs_, in all parts of the World; illustrated with several curious Anecdotes of their wonderful Properties, and, at the same time, manifesting infinite Wisdom in the Formation of those valuable Productions, so beneficial to all Mankind. By JOSEPH TAYLOR, Author of “Tales of the Robin” 12mo. price 4s sheep lettered

31 _The True History of a Little Boy_, who cheated himself. Founded on Fact. With appropriate Cuts, price 1s 6d coloured, or 1s plain

32 _Studies in Penmanship_, for the Use of Schools; being Specimens of the various Hands now in Use. Written by JOSEPH DONBAVAND, writing Master of Ackworth School, price 1s

33 _The Wonders of Animated Nature_; consisting of Descriptions at large, and Engraved Representations of the principal Animals and Birds in the Royal Menageries of London and Paris. Translated from LA CEPEDE, with considerable Additions by the English Editor, 8vo. half bound, price 8s

34 _The Good Boy’s Soliloquy_; containing his Parent’s Instructions relative to his Disposition and Manners. Illustrated with Sixteen Copper-plate Cuts, price 1s

35 _The Whim Wham_; or, Evening Amusements, for all Ages and Sizes; being an entire New Set of Riddles, Charades, Questions, and Transpositions. By a Friend to Innocent Mirth, price 1s

36 _Portraits of Curious Characters in London_, &c. &c. with Descriptive and Entertaining Anecdotes. Price One Shilling. Containing Likenesses of the following singular Characters:--Nathaniel Bentley, Esq.--Ann Siggs--Martin Van Butchell--John Statham--Anne Longman--John and Robert Green--Tom and his Pigeons--Roger Smith--George Romondo--Toby, or Sham Abraham--Sir John Dinely--“Brother John and I”--Ann Johnson--Samuel Horsey--Miss Theodora de Verdion, who dressed as a man--Daniel Lambert--Mary Jones--A well known Carver in Fleet Market--John Elwes, Esq. the Miser--The Flying Pie-man--Thomas Laugher, Aged 109 Years--Daniel Dancer, Esq. The above Portraits are now accompanied with a Biographical Sketch of each Character, which will be found highly interesting.

37 _Scripture Characters_, by a Parent for his Children; illustrated with several beautiful Plates, price 1s 6d

38 _Tales of the Robin_, and other small Birds. By Joseph Taylor, price 2s 6d

39 _The Book of Games_; or, a History of Juvenile Sports, practised at a considerable Academy near London. Illustrated by Twenty-four Copper-plates, price 3s 6d half bound

40 _Signor Topsy Turvy’s_ Wonderful Magic Lanthern; or, The World turned upside down. By the Authors of “Original Poems.” Illustrated with Twenty-four Engravings by the Rev. Isaac Taylor, of Colchester, price 3s 6d half bound

41 _London Melodies_; or Cries of the Seasons. Two Parts, price 1s each. With several Engravings

42 _The Adventures and Conversations of a Summer’s Morning_; intended to Entertain and Instruct the Minds of Youth: a New Edition improved. By Wm. Wiseacre, Esq. price 1s 6d half bound

43 _The Baby’s Holiday_, to which is added, the _White Lily_. By Mary Belson, Author of several popular Works, 1s coloured plates

44 _The First Step to Knowledge_; being an easy Introduction to the various English Spelling-Books. By the Rev. J. Goldsmith. 28th Edition, price 6d

45 _The Geographical Primer_; designed for the Younger Classes of Learners, and calculated to advance them, by natural and easy Gradations, to a perfect acquaintance with the Elements of the Science; with an Appendix, containing Fourteen Hundred Questions on the principal Maps. By J. H. Wiffen. 18mo. 3s bound

46 _The Invited Alphabet_, or, Address of A to B; containing his friendly proposal, for the Amusement and Instruction of good Children. With twenty-five Engravings on Copper-plates, price 1s 6d

47 _The Assembled Alphabet_, or, Acceptance of A’s Invitation; concluding with a Glee for Three Voices. Being a Sequel to the “Invited Alphabet,” with elegant Copper-plate Engravings, price 1s 6d