Chapter III: The New Masters

I lived peacefully in this forest one month. Sometimes I felt a little lonesome, but I preferred solitude to misery. I was then tolerably happy, when I began to perceive that the grass was getting scarce and dry, the leaves falling, the water freezing, the ground growing damp.

“Alas! alas!” thought I, “what is to become of me? If I stay here I shall perish of cold, of hunger and thirst, but where shall I go? who is there that wants me?”

By dint of reflection, I devised a means of securing shelter. Leaving the forest, I went to a little village near by. There I saw a small, neat looking, isolated house, and a good woman seated at the door spinning. I was touched with her sad, gentle appearance; I approached her and put my head upon her shoulder. Much startled, the good woman uttered a scream and jumped up from her chair. I did not stir, but regarded her with a pitiful, supplicating air.

“Poor beast!” said she, at length, “you do not look wicked. If no one owned you, I would be very much pleased to have you supply the place of my poor old Grison, who died of old age. I could then continue to make my living selling my vegetables at the market. But, no doubt, you have a master,” she added, sighing.

“To whom are you talking, grandmother?” said a soft voice from the inside of the house.

“I am talking to a donkey that has come here and put his head on my shoulder, and he looks at me so pitifully that I haven’t the heart to drive him away.”

“Let me see! let me see!” answered the soft voice. And immediately there appeared on the threshold a handsome little boy six or seven years of age, neatly but poorly clad. He looked at me with a curious, half timid air.

“May I pet him, grandmother?” said he.

“Certainly, my George, but take care that he does not bite you.”

The little boy extended his arm, and not being able to reach me, he advanced a step, then another, and began to smooth my back.

I did not stir for fear of frightening him; I only turned my head towards him, and passed my tongue over his hand.

“Grandmother, grandmother, this poor donkey is so good-natured, he has licked my hand.”

“It is very strange that he should be alone. Where is his master? Go, George, to the village inn, where travelers stop, and make inquiries about him. His master is probably worried about him.”

“Shall I take the donkey, grandmother?”

“He will not follow you; let him go where he wishes.”

George started off in a run; I trotted after him. When he saw that I followed, he came to me, and petting me, said: “Say then, my pretty donkey, since you follow me, you will surely let me ride you.” And he mounted at once, exclaiming as he did so, “get up!” I went off in a little gallop, which enchanted him. “Ho! ho!” said he before the inn, I stopped immediately, and George dismounted. I remained opposite the door, not stirring any more than if I had been tied.

“What is it, my boy?” said the inn-keeper.

“I came to know, Mr. Duval, if this donkey at the door belongs to you or any of your customers?”

Mr. Duval came to the door and regarded me attentively. “No, my boy,” said he, “it is not mine, nor that of any one I know. You will have to inquire further.”

George remounted, and setting off again in a gallop, we went from house to house, inquiring for my owner. No one knew me, and we returned to the good grandmother, who was still sitting in the door spinning.

“Grandmother, the donkey belongs to no one about here. What are we to do with him? He keeps close to me, but he jumps away when anybody else tries to touch him.”

“In that case, my George, we must not let him stay out-doors all night; something might happen to him. Lead him to our poor Grison’s stable, give him a bundle of hay and a bucket of water. We can take him to market to-morrow, and perhaps we may find his master.”

“And if we do not find him, grandmother?”

“We will keep the donkey till some one claims him. We could not let the poor beast perish of cold this winter, or fall into the hands of wicked people who would beat him, or cause his death from fatigue and hard treatment.”

After giving me food and water, George caressed me and went out, saying, as he shut the door:

“How I hope he has no master, so he may stay with us.”

Next day, having given me my breakfast, George put a halter on my neck and led me up to the door; the grandmother next placed a very light pack-saddle on my back and seated herself upon it. George then brought a little basket of vegetables, which she took upon her knees, and we set out for the market of Mamers. The good woman sold her vegetables at a fair price, no one recognized me, and I returned with my new mistress.

I lived there four years; I was happy, injuring no one and making myself very useful, for I loved my little master, who never beat me, never worked me to death and always fed me well. However, I was no glutton; in summer, remnants of vegetables and the herbs which neither the horses nor cows ate; in winter a little hay and the skins of potatoes, carrots and turnips, satisfied my wants, as is the case with other donkeys.

There were some days I did not enjoy, those on which my mistress hired me to the children in the neighborhood. Being poor, and not always having enough work to keep me busy, she was very glad to make a little something by hiring me to the children of the castle near by.

They were not always good children.

Listen to what happened on one of these excursions.