Chapter XIX: The Learned Donkey

One day I saw the children run into the meadow where I was quietly grazing very near the castle. Louis and James were playing around me, finding amusement in getting on my back. They thought themselves as nimble as gymnasts, whilst they were, in reality, I must confess, somewhat clumsy, little James especially, who was plump, chunkier than his cousin. Louis at last, by holding on to my tail, managed to climb (he called it jumping) up on my back. James made prodigious efforts to follow his example, but the poor little fat fellow slipped, fell and got out of breath, and it was very evident that he could not succeed without the assistance of his cousin somewhat older than himself. To spare them so much fatigue, I went towards a piece of rising ground. Louis had already shown his agility, and James had just succeeded with a great effort in seating himself, when we heard the whole joyous band crying out: “James, Louis, we are going to the fair day after to-morrow, to see the learned donkey!”

“The learned donkey? what is that?” inquired James.

“A donkey,” replied Elizabeth, “that plays all manner of tricks.”

“What tricks?”

“Well tricks—tricks of—tricks I mean,” said Beatrice.

“He can’t beat Cadichon, I know.”

“Pshaw! Cadichon!”, said Henry, “Cadichon is a very fine animal and very intelligent of his kind, but he is nothing in comparison with the learned donkey at the fair!”

“I am very sure,” answered Maud, “that if Cadichon were shown these tricks he could do them.”

“Let us see what this learned donkey does, and then we can judge better as to whether he is more learned than our Cadichon,” said William.

“William is right,” replied Maud, “let us wait till after the fair.”

“And what will we do after the fair?” said Elizabeth.

“We will dispute,” replied Beatrice laughing. James and Louis after whispering a few words to each other, had kept silence until the rest went away. When assured that these were out of sight and hearing, they commenced to dance around me, laughing and singing:

“Cadichon, Cadichon,
To the fair you will go,
And the learned donkey show
That as smart as he may be,
You are smarter still than he;
Every one will honor you,
Every one will praise you too,
And we shall be proud, so do
Your best, Cadichon, Cadichon.”

“What we are singing is very pretty,” said James, stopping suddenly.

“That is because they are rhymes,” answered Louis. “I really think they are pretty.”

“Rhymes? I thought it was very difficult to make rhymes.”

Very easy as you see,
Though difficult apparently.

“There are some more.”

“Let us run and say them to our cousins.”

“No, no, if they heard our verses, they would guess what we are going to do; we must take them by surprise at the fair.”

“But do you believe papa and uncle will let us take Cadichon to the fair?”

“Certainly, when we tell them in confidence, we want him to see the learned donkey.”

“Let us run quick to ask them.”

They were running at full speed towards the house just as the papas were coming to the meadow to see what the children were doing. “Papa, papa!” cried they, “come quick; we have something to ask you.”

“Speak children, what is it?”

“Not here, papa, not here,” was the mysterious answer, each one drawing his father aside.

“What is the matter?” said Louis’s papa, laughing. “Into what conspiracy do you wish to drag me?”

“Sh sh, papa, here is what it is: you know that day after to-morrow there will be a learned donkey at the fair.”

“No, I did not know it, but what have we to do with learned donkeys, we, who have Cadichon?”

“That is precisely what we say, papa, that Cadichon is smarter than any of them. My sisters and cousins are going to the fair to see this educated donkey, and we would like very much to take Cadichon, so that he may see what this donkey does and imitate him.”

“What?” said James’s papa, “would you put Cadichon in the crowd to look at the donkey?”

“Yes, papa, instead of going in the carriage, we can ride Cadichon, and get very near the circle in which the learned donkey plays his tricks.”

“I would not ask anything better myself, but I do not believe Cadichon could learn much in one lesson.”

“Can’t you, Cadichon, do as many smart tricks as that silly, educated donkey?”

In addressing this question, James looked at me so anxiously, that to reassure him, I began braying, laughing all the while at his fears.

“Do you hear that, papa,” said James triumphantly, “Cadichon says yes.”

The two papas laughed, caressed their little boys, and turned away, promising not only that I should go to the fair, but that they would accompany us there.

“Ah!” said I to myself, “they doubt my capacity! It is astonishing how much more intelligent these children are than their fathers.”

The great day arrived. One hour before our departure, my toilet was made, and Louis and James having curried and rubbed me to the verge of vexation; after which, they decorated me with a perfectly new bridle and saddle, and then announced their readiness to start, as they wished to set out a little in advance, for fear of being late.

“Why do you wish to go so early?” asked Henry, “and how are you going?”

“We are going on Cadichon, and want to start early, because we can’t go fast,” said Louis.

“Are you two going alone?” inquired Henry.

“No, papa and uncle will accompany us.”

“It will certainly be tiresome, if you are going at a gait to suit their walk.”

“Oh! we never find it tiresome in our papa’s company.”

“I prefer going in the carriage, we will get there long before you.”

“No, you will not, for we will start so much sooner.”

As they finished speaking, I was led out all saddled and decorated—the fathers were ready; they put their little boys on my back, and I started very slowly, so as not to make their fathers run.

In an hour we reached the fair ground, where we found many persons already collected around the rope marking out a circle, within which the educated donkey was to display his ability. The fathers of the two little boys I had brought, stationed us very near the rope, and my other masters and mistresses soon rejoined us.

The sound of a drum was the signal for my learned friend’s appearance. All eyes were fixed upon the curtain, which rose at last, and he came forth, a thin, sad, miserable looking creature. His master called him; he approached, but with an air of fear, and I saw at once that the poor thing’s learning had been instilled by hard beatings.

“Gentlemen and ladies,” said the master, “I have the honor of presenting to you Mirliflore, the prince of donkeys. He is not like the rest of his race, he is a learned donkey, more learned indeed than many of us, he is the donkey par excellence, and without an equal. Come, Mirliflore, show what you can do, but first salute these gentlemen and ladies like a well raised donkey.”

This discourse touched my pride, and made me very angry; I resolved to be revenged before the end of the exhibition.

Mirliflore advancing three steps, made an inclination of his head with a melancholy air.

“Go, Mirliflore, go give this bouquet to the prettiest lady here.”

I laughed at seeing every hand half extended to receive the bouquet. Mirliflore went all around the circle, and stopping before a fat, ugly woman that I afterwards learned was the master’s wife, and who held a little sugar in her hand, lay down his flowers.

This want of taste enraged me; leaping over the rope to the great surprise of every one present, and making a graceful salutation, to those on my right, my left, before and behind me, I walked resolutely up to the fat woman, snatched the bouquet from her hands, and laid it on Maud’s lap. I then returned to my place, amidst the plaudits of the multitude. Every one inquired the meaning of this apparition; some believed it was all arranged beforehand, and that there were two learned donkeys; whilst others who had seen me with my little masters recognizing me, were delighted at my intelligence.

Mirliflore’s master seemed quite vexed, but the animal himself appeared so indifferent to my triumph, that I began to believe him really stupid, which is a quality very rare among us donkeys. When silence was re-established, the master called Mirliflore out again.

“Come Mirliflore, show these gentlemen and ladies that you not only know how to distinguish beauty, but likewise stupidity; take this cap and put it on the most stupid person here.”

Saying this, he gave Mirliflore a magnificent dunce-cap, ornamented with bells and variegated ribbons. Mirliflore, taking it between his teeth, went towards a fat, red faced boy, who inclined his head in advance to receive it. From his resemblance to the fat woman, so falsely declared the most beautiful person present, it was easy to recognize this boy as her son, and the master’s assistant.

“Now,” thought I, “is the moment to revenge this fool’s insulting words!”

And before anyone could think of preventing me, I again darted into the arena, ran to my comrade, snatched the dunce-cap from him at the moment he was about to place it on the fat boy’s head, and ere the master had time to defend himself, rushing at him, at putting my fore feet upon his shoulders, I tried to place the cap upon his head. He repulsed me violently, and grew furious, as peals of laughter and applause resounded on all sides.

“Bravo donkey!” they cried, “this one is the real learned donkey.”

Emboldened by the applause of the multitude, I made a new effort to fit the cap; as he recoiled I advanced, and we finished by a flying race, the man running at full speed, I after him, not getting near enough to him to ornament him with the cap, and not wishing to do him any harm. At last I jumped behind him, and placing my fore feet upon his shoulders, let him feel my weight; he fell and I profited by it, to bury his head up to his very chin in the dunce’s cap. I retired immediately; the man arose, but being somewhat confused and stunned by the fall, and unable to see clearly, he began to turn and jump. And I to complete the farce pretended to do the same, interrupting this burlesque imitation, by approaching him and braying in his ear, then standing on my hind feet, jumping like him, sometimes to one side, some times before him.

To depict the laughter, the bravos, the joyful stamping of feet, would be an impossibility. Never had a donkey in the world such success, such a triumph! The ring was invaded by hundreds of persons wishing to touch, to caress, to approach me. Those who knew me were proud of what I had done, and told my name to those not acquainted with me. Numberless anecdotes, both true and false, were related, in which I played a magnificent part. One time, said my admirers, I had extinguished a fire, working a pump all alone; I had ascended to the third story, opened my mistress’s door, seized her asleep in bed, and all hope of escape by the stairs being cut off, I had jumped from the third story, having first carefully placed my mistress on my back—that neither she nor I had been hurt, because her guardian angel had sustained us in the air and we had gently descended to the ground. Another time, unassisted, I had killed fifty brigands, strangling them one by one with a single bite, so that none awakened to alarm the rest. I had afterwards liberated one hundred and fifty prisoners these robbers had kept chained in the caves for the sake of their services, making the poor creatures work to feed and enrich their masters. Again, at a race, I had beaten the best horses in the country, and finally, in five hours, I had made twenty-five leagues without stopping.

The admiration for me increased in proportion to the circulation of these stories. I was surrounded, almost smothered, and the soldiers were obliged to drive off the crowd. Happily, the parents of James, Louis, and all my other masters had led their children away, whilst the crowd collected around me. I had much difficulty in escaping from my admirers, who wished to carry me in triumph—even the assistance of the soldiers was not sufficient to prevent such an honor, and I, in order to force my way through the crowd, was obliged to give a few bites, and attempted kicks, taking care, however, to hurt no one.

Once rid of the crowd, I sought Louis and James, but in vain. Not wishing my dear little masters to return home on foot, I ran to the stable where our horses were always kept to see if they were still there, and, not finding them, I knew Louis and James had gone. Then, taking the road to the castle, and running at full speed, I soon caught up with the two carriages packed with parents and children to the number of fifteen.

“Cadichon! there is Cadichon!” exclaimed all the children when they saw me.

The carriages were stopped; James and Louis asked permission to get out, as they wished to compliment and caress me, and return home on foot. Their example was followed by Ruth and Helen, then by William and Henry, and at last by Elizabeth, Beatrice and Maud.

“So you see,” said Louis and James, “we knew Cadichon better than you! How he did distinguish himself! He easily understood all the tricks of that stupid Mirliflore and his foolish master.”

“So he did,” answered William, “but I would like very much to know why he insisted upon putting that dunce-cap on the master. Was it because he thought the master a fool, and knew that the donkey’s ears (the dunce-cap was fashioned in that style) were a mark of imbecility?”

“Certainly, he understood it,” spoke Maud; “he is smart enough for that.”

“Ah! ah! ah! You say that because he gave you the bouquet as the prettiest person present.”

“Not at all; I did not think myself the prettiest, and, since you speak of it, let me tell you that I was astonished, and wished very much he had given the bouquet to mamma, for she was the prettiest person there.”

“You represented her,” said William, “and I believe that, leaving aunt aside, Cadichon’s choice could not have been better.”

“And I then, am I so ugly?” asked Beatrice.

“Certainly not, but each one to his taste, and Cadichon’s taste selected Maud,” replied William.

“Instead of discussing beauties and frights,” said Elizabeth, “we ought to inquire of Cadichon how he could understand so well what this man said.”

“What a pity Cadichon cannot speak! how much he could tell!” replied Helen.

“Who knows but what he does understand?” said Elizabeth. “I myself have read the ‘Recollections of a Doll,’ and does a doll appear to see and understand? That doll wrote about all she heard and saw.”

“And do you really believe that?” asked Henry.

“Certainly I believe it,” replied Elizabeth.

“How could the doll write?”

“She wrote at night, with a tiny pen made of a humming bird’s feather, and hid her ‘Recollections’ under her head.”

“Don’t believe such nonsense, my poor Elizabeth,” said Beatrice. “It was a lady who wrote those ‘Recollections of a Doll,’ and to make the book more amusing, she pretended to be the doll and to write as if she were one.”

“Do you think, then, it was not a real doll that wrote them?” asked Elizabeth.

“Certainly it was not,” replied Maud. “How do you suppose a lifeless doll, made of wood or stuffed with bran could reflect, see, hear and write?”

Talking thus, they reached the castle. Running immediately to their grandmother, who had remained at home, they recounted all my doings and how I had astonished and delighted every one.

“He is truly wonderful, this Cadichon,” said she, coming to caress me. “I have known intelligent donkeys, far more sagacious than other animals, but never did I see one like Cadichon! I must confess, we are very unjust to donkeys.”

I turned towards her with a look of gratitude.

“One would really suppose he understood me,” she continued. “My poor Cadichon, rest assured you shall never be sold whilst I live, and you shall be as well taken care of as if you understood everything that was going on around you.”

I sighed at thought of my old mistress’s age, for she was fifty-nine, and I not more than nine or ten.

“My dear little masters,” thought I, “when your grandmother dies do not sell me, I entreat you, but keep me and let me die in your service.”

As to the learned donkey’s unfortunate master; I afterwards repented bitterly of the trick I had played upon him, and you will see the sad consequences of my desire to display my intelligence.