Chapter V: At the Fair—a Performing Donkey

In my time, fairs in England were very common, and they were held in most of the important country towns twice a year, in the spring and in the fall.

These fairs were unlike anything that boys and girls of to-day have seen. They were held in the main street of the town, and the booths, or stalls, were erected on each side of the street, partly on the sidewalk and partly on the road, leaving only a very narrow space for people to walk about, or for horses and carriages to drive.

This would have been inconvenient, as all the people from the country roundabout flocked into the town at fair time, and it was then more crowded than ever. But, as every one wanted to linger and loiter and look at the things displayed for sale in the stalls, and to listen to the descriptions of the wonders to be seen inside the shows, menageries, museums, and travelling theatres, this did not matter very much.

You will hear more about fairs as you read farther on in my story, but this seems to me to be a good place to tell you something about them as they were when I was a young and observant donkey.

One of the most curious things about these fairs was that they were very often “hiring fairs,” that is, men and women used to go and stand in rows and wait for the squires or the farmers from roundabout to come and hire them as farm-hands or labourers, or household help or dairymaids, or what not. There they would be,—the men all in a row in their smock-frocks, with their whips in their hands, on one side of the street, and the women, neatly dressed in linsey-woolsey gowns (that was the name of the stuff) on the other.

I think I can hear them now: “Where did you work last year?” one of them would bawl out. And the rest would shout all at once:

“Down in Yorkshire,” or Lancashire, or Berkshire, as the case might be.

The first speaker would then say: “How much did you get a year?”

Then all the rest would reply in chorus:

“Five pound, and a new whip,
Fat pork a foot thick,
And a new knife to cut it with.
Work! Work! Work!”

And the things there were to see at these fairs! Everything that any one could want, from candy for the babies up to coats and boots for the men, and dresses and gewgaws for the women. Fathers and mothers came with their children. Young men and women with their sweethearts, and all bought what were called “fairings” for each other. Everything bought at the fair was called a “fairing.”

Useful things also were sold,—ploughs and harrows, rakes, spades, and hoes, horses, wagons and wheelbarrows,—in fact, everything the farmer and the housekeeper might want.

But the greatest thing of all was “the fun of the fair,”—the shows and the museums, the freak exhibitions, and such like. There were bearded ladies, fat women, dwarfs, and giants. Lambs with two heads, and calves with six legs, and performing animals without number.

And this leads me to a story about a performing donkey, which I heard from a four-legged friend of mine on one occasion when I was waiting in the town on a market-day.

My friend’s name was Neddy, the same as my own, and one day he went to a fair where every one was talking about a wonderful performing donkey who was exhibiting his tricks in a large tent. “My master,” said he, “went in the tent, leaving me by the door, so that I could see what was going on inside. In a few minutes the showman appeared leading in the donkey that was supposed to be so clever. He was a poor, dismal-looking creature, who looked as if he wanted a square meal. ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ began the showman, ‘I have the honour to introduce to you Mr. Muffles, the wonderful performing ass. This ass, ladies and gentlemen, is not such an ass as he looks. He knows a great deal,—a great deal more than some of you. He is an ass without equal. Come, Muffles, show the company what you can do. Make your bow, and let these ladies and gentlemen see that you have learned manners.’ The donkey went forward two or three steps and bent his head in most melancholy fashion. I was indignant with the showman. I thought to myself, ‘It’s quite easy to see that this poor Muffles has been taught his tricks by means of a rope’s end,’ and I made up my mind to be revenged on that man before the performance was over.

“‘Now, Muffles, take this nosegay, and give it to the prettiest lady here.’

“Muffles took the bunch of flowers in his teeth, walked sadly all around the ring, and at last went and dropped it into the lap of an ugly, fat woman. She was quite close to me, and I could see that she had a piece of sugar hidden in her hand. ‘What a fraud,’ I thought. ‘Of course she is the showman’s wife.’ I was so disgusted with what I thought was the donkey’s bad taste that, before any one could stop me, I leaped clear into the ring, seized the bouquet in my teeth, and, trotting around, I at last laid it at the feet of a little girl I knew, who was really pretty.

“The crowd clapped and cheered, and wondered who I was. ‘_So_ intelligent!’ they said to each other. Muffles’s master, however, did not seem so pleased. As for Muffles himself, he took no notice whatever. I began to think he must really be rather a stupid animal, and that, you know, isn’t common with us donkeys.

“When the audience was quiet again, the showman said:

“‘Now, Muffles, you have shown us the prettiest lady here. Now go and point out the silliest person present,’ and, so saying, he gave him a big dunce-cap made of coloured paper and adorned with rosettes.

“Muffles took it in his teeth, and, going straight to a heavy-looking fat boy, with a face exactly like that of a pig, put it on his head. The fat boy was so like the fat woman that it was quite easy to see he must be the showman’s son, and of course in the trick.

“‘Good!’ said I to myself, ‘my time has come.’ Before they could think of stopping me, I had taken the cap off the boy’s head, and was chasing the showman himself around and around the ring. The crowd roared with laughter and clapped and clapped until they were tired. All at once the showman tripped and went down on one knee. I profited by this to put the cap firmly on his head, and to ram it down till it fairly covered his chin.

“The showman shouted, and danced about, trying to tear off the cap, and I stood on my hind legs and capered about just as he did until the crowd nearly died from laughing. ‘Well done, donkey! Bravo, donkey! It’s you that’s the real performing donkey!’ they shouted.

“There was no doing anything after this. Hundreds of people crowded into the ring, and were so anxious to caress me that I was afraid they would tear me to pieces. The people from our own village who knew me were more than proud of me, and before very long all the people in the place were telling wonderful tales of my intelligence and my adventures.

“They said I had once been at a fire, and worked a fire-engine all by myself; that I had gone up a ladder to the third floor, opened my mistress’s door, awakened her, picked her up, and jumped off the roof with her in safety to the ground. They said that at another time I had, all alone, slain fifty robbers, strangling them with my teeth when they were asleep, and that not one had time to awake and alarm the others; that I had then gone into the caves, where the robbers lived, and had set free a hundred and fifty prisoners whom the robbers had captured. At another time they said I had beaten in a race all the swiftest horses in the country, and had run seventy-five miles in five hours without stopping!

“The crowd grew thicker and thicker to hear these wonderful tales, until the crush was so great that some of the people could hardly breathe, and the police had to come to the rescue. It was with the greatest difficulty that, even with the help of the policemen, I was able to get away, and I was obliged to pretend to bite and kick in order to clear a path; but of course I did not hurt anybody.

“At last I got free from the crowd and into the road.... But after it all was over, I began to think of the unfortunate showman, and I felt very, very sorry for the unkind trick I had played him.”[1]

FOOTNOTES:

[1] This story is from a French source. [Ed.

CHAPTER VI.

NEDDY CHANGES MASTERS