Chapter VII

I TRAVEL TO ALL PARTS OF ENGLAND, AND MAKE ACQUAINTANCE WITH EVERY
VARIETY OF PEOPLE—AT LENGTH I GO TO LONDON—REGENT STREET IN MIDDAY—A
RECOGNITION—I MAKE MY FIRST APPEARANCE IN A POLICE STATION, AND PROVE
MYSELF A VALUABLE WITNESS—I TAKE UP MY ABODE IN THE “GREEN YARD.”

I was aroused very early the next morning from the enjoyment of my quiet sleep by a sharp kick in the side. Jumping up as quickly as possible, I saw my master standing by me ready dressed. Putting the bridle over my head, he led me to where the rest of the party were sitting having their breakfast. They did not offer anything to me, however, and I was obliged to content myself with a few bites of grass from the roadside. To judge from the eager talking that went on, some very important matter was being decided. In a few moments, my master, throwing some light articles for sale over my shoulders, jumped upon my back himself, and, saying good-bye to his companions, set me off at a good sharp trot. We had not gone very far when my master suddenly pulled me up, and seemed hesitating whether he should turn me around or not. I was wondering what we were to do next, when I saw a man coming toward me, whom I recognized as a workman occasionally employed on my dear old master’s farm. Oh, how my heart beat for joy! “Now,” thought I, “who knows but he may deliver me?” and I came to a dead halt, intending, when the man passed by, to endeavour to attract his notice. But my rider was apparently aware of my intention, for he gave me two or three such frightful kicks, that, almost sick with the pain, I found myself obliged to go on in spite of myself; but I sidled up as much as possible to the side of the road where the man was walking.

He looked hard at us as we passed, and something seemed to attract his attention.

“Hallo!” he said; “you seem to have got a smart-looking donkey there.”

“The most obstinate brute that ever was seen,” returned my master; and he took advantage of the observation to give me some severe cuts over the head, which so stupefied me that I could not understand what the man next said. There seemed to be a long and very angry discussion; but it ended by the man walking away, and my master urging me on to the extent of my powers in the opposite direction. How grieved I felt then! how angry with the man for his stupidity in not recognizing me and taking me home! I was yet to learn what an important influence over my future destiny this chance meeting was to have.

It would be tedious to endeavour to give any detailed account of my present mode of life; indeed, one day was so like another that to describe one is to describe all. I had fallen into the hands of a peddler, who went through the country, now selling one kind of goods, now another, as the case might be, to suit the various tastes of the different communities in the neighbourhood of which we found ourselves. When I was first in his possession, we went miles and miles away from my own dear home; in fact, I soon lost all recollection of where it was, or in what direction I should have to turn to regain it. It was a cold, bleak district where we settled first,—very, very unlike the warm climate to which I had been accustomed, with its rich meadow-land and soft green grass, and bright sunlight. Here, where we now lived, there was nothing to be seen but smoke and dirt. The very grass was all cinders.

At first I was half-scared out of my senses by the strange sights and noises which I saw and heard around me. At every turn in the road there seemed to burst forth fire and smoke; and as to the clank, clank, clank, bang, bang, bang, burr, burr, burr, it was unceasing from morning till night. And then the people, so unlike those amongst whom I had spent my early days. No clean smock-frocks and ruddy, healthy-looking faces; but grim, dirty men, wretched-looking women, and miserable children! It was quite sad to look at them, as I went from door to door, dragging my load of vegetables, or fish, or what not; and then to hear the swearing and the quarrelling, the bartering and the chaffering,—oh, how unlike my mistress’s sweet voice! how different from those quiet drives in the green lanes of my native country! Ah! now that it was too late, how bitterly I repented me of my past misconduct, and thought, if the time had but to come over again, how differently I would behave! It is of no use, however, to expect that any one will profit by my experience. It is just one of those things that every one will insist upon buying for themselves; and then, when they have to pay the bill, they grumble, and say: “How very dear it comes!” Of course it does; but perhaps it is as well,—we should not value it else. We never do value anything that we get cheap. I often used to hear my master say that.

“Put on a good price, and keep to it, Betsy,” he would tell his wife.

“But really, Jem, this or that is not worth the sum you name,” his wife would occasionally reply, for my new mistress was a good-hearted woman.

“A thing is worth what it will fetch,” my master would answer. “Offer it for a lower price, and the people will suspect it to be bad directly.”

And so, often and often, when I stood before the doors of the cottages with whose inhabitants my master did business, I had to listen to such lies and impositions that my heart grieved for the poor people who were made such easy dupes. But what could I do? I could only turn my head around, and look up gravely in their faces, and wag my ears; and then they said—if they said anything to me at all—“How troublesome the flies are to your poor donkey to-day!” and they did not know that I was not thinking about myself, but wondering how it came to be how they were so quickly tickled by a little skilful flattery. There are worse flies, thought I, than those which are biting me!

I had wished to see life, and I saw it now in some of its saddest and most miserable forms. Oh, what places we went into! My stable at my dear old master’s was a palace, compared with the homes of hundreds of men, women, and children with whom I now made acquaintance; and then the want of light and air,—why, sometimes I could hardly see how to pick my way along the broken pavement; and as to air,—I could not have got up a bray, no, not if you had promised me a feed of grain to do so. How human beings could live in such an atmosphere, I knew not. It almost killed me to drag my load along in it.

But we did not always stay in the neighbourhood of these great towns. Sometimes we would go long journeys across the country, visiting fairs and other merrymakings. And these were times of peculiar hardship to me: morning, noon, night, I was always at work, and hardly a moment was allowed for me to snatch a hasty meal. No sooner had I dragged the cart, filled with articles for sale, to its appointed post than, instead of being allowed to stand to rest and amuse myself by falling into the state of half-dreamy unconsciousness so delightful to all our race, I was taken out of the shafts, a saddle placed upon my back, and then I was let out by the hour to as many mischievous urchins as chose to take their full pennyworth of pleasure by the kicking and beating which seem to constitute the peculiar delights of a donkey ride.

A terrible time I had of it on those fair days and race-grounds, for, being a more than usually handsome and powerful beast of my kind, I was the one invariably chosen by “plucky” fellows, who wished for “a lark;” and small pity they had on Neddy’s legs or sides; and, as to trying to kick them off, it was only to add to my misery and their fun. The more I kicked, the faster fell their blows, and the louder rang their laughter; and if sometimes, in despair, I turned sulky, and refused to go at all, it only increased my discomfort by giving time to two or three of my tormentors to get up at once, when, with hooting, and shouts, and jeers, I should at length be obliged to give in and gallop ignominiously my appointed round.

But there was one very important good which arose to me out of all this trouble. My master, seeing the admiration I excited by my handsome shape and form, took the greatest pains to make me look as attractive as possible, in the hope, I suppose, of increasing his earnings. My coat had by this time recovered from the ill-treatment it had received, and, by dint of a good dressing, could be made to acquire something of its original gloss; and as I now occasionally got a feed of grain, my appearance was altogether plumper and more like myself. But it must not be supposed that I was merely delighted to hear myself admired. I will not deny that it was far pleasanter to know that I was no longer the wretched, dirty, miserable, half-starved wretch that I had been for so many months; but my great cause for rejoicing in the change was that I thought, if by any chance I should ever meet with my dear mistress, it was possible that she now might recognize me.

In all my trouble, I had never for one moment forgotten her, and the hope that I might yet see her again was the one bright spot that enlightened many a dark and dreary hour. Ah! how constantly I looked out for her sweet face! how eagerly my ears listened to catch the sound of her well-remembered voice! And then my heart would die away within me, as I thought, “How is it possible that she should remember me? There is not a trace of her Neddy left in this ragged, dirty, jaded donkey;” and I would hang down my ears, and put my tail closer between my legs, as I felt the utter hopelessness of all chance of escaping from my present slavery.

With the knowledge, however, that I was recovering something of my former appearance, my spirits rose, and I became more than ever eager for the meeting with my mistress; but it never seemed to come. I would stand in the market-place of a town, and hundreds and hundreds of people passed by me, and I would look wistfully in their faces; but they were nothing to me, nor I to them. I would visit quiet country houses, and I hoped and thought—who knew?—she might be among the guests; but no, we went and came, but we never saw the one being who was ever present to my recollection.

Time passed on,—I cannot tell you how long it was, I have no means of reckoning,—but at length our journeyings seemed to take a direction different from any they had taken before. We had left the land of fire and smoke, we had passed by the quiet villages, in the midst of green fields and narrow lanes and high hedges, and we came upon a country of endless, endless houses. What a stir, and bustle, and confusion! I had never seen anything like it, and I felt quite bewildered with the countless carriages and people that were passing me by on every side,—street after street, street after street, and every street as crowded as the one we had just left. Lights flaring, carts rattling, people pushing. I could hardly get along for terror and surprise, and at every moment I expected some of the great ponderous wagons or overwhelming-looking omnibuses would run over me and the slight little cart I drew, and crunch us both to atoms. If this was London, it was a very horrid place!

But use is second nature, and I soon became accustomed to all the sights and sounds that had at first so much alarmed me, and could walk down a street in the full tide of daily traffic as unconcernedly as I should have wandered across a solitary common.

I had thought my life a very hard one when travelling about the country to visit the different fair and race grounds; but it was happiness itself compared with the wretched monotony of my present experience, with its unceasing toil, scanty food, and dirty shelter. In the country I could at least have the ground, such as it was, to lie upon, room to stretch myself and roll, air to breathe, occasional good meals of grass, and a drink of pure, fresh water; but in London I was forced to content myself with a dark hole of a stable, so small I could hardly turn myself, and so dirty it made me sick; and I thought myself well off on those days when I could appease my hunger with a few stale, decaying cabbage leaves, and quench my thirst with a drink of half-putrid water.

And then the work was incessant. At earliest break of day I was harnessed to the carriage I had to draw,—a sort of truck on wheels, with a thing like a door laid all along on the top; and then my master would seat himself in front, and off we would rattle, I trotting over the stones as fast as my poor tired legs would carry me; for it was an important object to get first to a great market held in the midst of London, and so take up a good place for purchasing such fruit and vegetables and flowers as should not be judged good enough for the rich customers to Covent Garden.

If I had not felt so depressed and down-hearted, I might often have been amused by the bustling scene around me. It was a pretty sight, there is no denying it, to see the carts coming in piled with their fresh and fragrant loads, women with baskets of the most deliciously scented flowers, and men with every variety of luscious-looking fruit. Oh, how my mouth would water as the carts passed by me full of fresh carrots or turnips, or soft new green stuff! How I looked and longed that some kind hand would give me just one taste! But no; I must stand hour after hour in the midst of all this plenty, faint and weary, and then think myself happy if an old yellow cabbage—so bad that the very slugs rejected it—was thrown to me as my morning meal. How often would I then look back to my early home, and remember all my grumbling discontent if I had had a little less grain than usual, or if the hay might not have been quite so sweet as suited my fastidious palate! There is nothing like want and hunger to cure daintiness; and I think it would be a very good thing if some of those who are always complaining and repining if things are not quite to their mind, should make trial for awhile of this sharpener to their appetites.

When my master had completed his morning purchases, which varied with the season of the year, we used to quit the market, and start upon our daily rounds, making our way through miles of streets, till we came to a part of the city that bore some faint resemblance to a country town.

The houses were much lower than those in the streets through which we passed. They stood alone, or in twos and threes, in little gardens of their own; and they seemed to be inhabited by persons more like those we had been accustomed to deal with in the country towns than the ladies and gentlemen I would occasionally see stepping into their grand carriages as we passed through the great streets and squares. I used to wish they would have dealt with us instead; then, indeed, there might have been some hope of my finding my dear mistress; but how was it possible I should see her in the out-of-the-way suburbs where we plied our morning work, or in the lowest streets of the metropolis, where we were always to be found at night? Morning dawned after morning, night closed after night,—still the same round of toil, and still no hope of escape.

My master had had a more than usually successful morning’s round; my load was disposed of, and we were returning leisurely down Regent Street, when he was suddenly accosted by a man who was walking on the pavement. Being in a particularly good humour, my master returned the greeting cordially enough, and the two friends soon agreed to go together to some saloon near, to take a glass to keep out the cold, and to drink to their mutual prosperity.

“Here, you see to the donkey, Tom,” said my master to a boy who generally went his rounds with him; “and do not you let nobody touch him nor the cart till I come back again. Do you hear, Tom?”

“Yes, I hear,” was the somewhat sulky reply; and, drawing me up close to the curbstone, where I should be as much as possible out of the way, my master, saying he should not be gone long, turned up a narrow street with his companion, and was soon out of sight.

Tired with my morning’s round, and having had but a scanty breakfast, I was glad enough of the rest, and was just composing myself to a quiet sleep, when I suddenly heard a voice, which made every limb in my body tremble with joy, exclaim, eagerly:

“Why, Neddy, Neddy! dear Neddy! Do you remember me?”

Remember her! my own dear, dear mistress! Could I ever forget her? Half-wild with delight, I forgot where I was, and, dragging the cart after me on to the pavement, I began a series of ecstatic brays, rubbing my nose at the same time against the kind hand that was held out to me, and endeavouring to show, by every means in my power, my unbounded joy at again beholding my beloved mistress.

“Oh, look, papa, papa!” exclaimed my mistress. “Neddy knows me! Neddy remembers me! Good Neddy! Dear old Neddy!”

In her delight at seeing me, my mistress had, like myself, forgotten that Regent Street, in the middle of the day, is rather a public place in which to give way to outbursts of affection. Already a crowd had gathered around us, some wondering, some laughing, some standing by in silent curiosity to see what would be the end of this strange greeting; cabmen drawing up to enjoy the fun; omnibus drivers and conductors lingering on their way, and looking back to see what all the confusion was about; every moment the mob increased, swelled, as it was sure to be, by the crowd of dirty boys and idle loungers that in London springs up at a moment’s notice, no one knows how, no one knows from where.

“Annie, my dear Annie, this is no place for you!” exclaimed a voice that I did not recognize; and, looking up, I saw a fine, tall, handsome-looking man, who drew my mistress’s hand away from me, and placed it on his own arm.

“Papa dear, will you see about Neddy?” said my mistress, looking around, evidently frightened and bewildered by the confusion around her, and endeavouring to make her way through the crowd of bystanders.

But having so lately discovered her, I was in no humour to let her go; and utterly disregarding every impediment in my way, I pushed on, braying loudly as I went. Peals of laughter greeted my attempt.

“Make way for the lady! make way for the donkey!” “Hurrah, Neddy, hurrah!” “Do it again, Neddy! do it again!” shouted the boys; whilst, encouraged by their cheers, I pushed and pushed more strenuously than before.

Louder and louder rose the peals of laughter; higher and higher swelled the cheers; and, thinking I was doing the most appropriate thing possible, I redoubled my efforts to keep up with my mistress, when, just at this moment, who should come down the street but my late master!

“Hallo!” he exclaimed, with a coarse oath; “what is all this row about? Who is interfering with my property?” and he put out his hand to seize me fiercely by the rein.

“Stay! stay!” said Mr. Morton, in a voice so calm and firm that I felt the hand upon my bridle tremble. “I rather think it is you, my man, who have been interfering with my property. Here,” added Mr. Morton, turning to two or three of the police, who had by this time made their way to the spot, and were actively employed in keeping back the crowd, “I want your assistance here. I have reason to believe that this donkey, which belongs to my daughter, was stolen from me three years ago by this man. I give him into custody on this charge, and require that you meantime should take the donkey into safe keeping.”

It would be impossible to describe the man’s rage as he listened to these words. He swore, he stamped, he abused Mr. Morton in every angry epithet he could think of; and yet all the time he trembled, and did not once dare to look his accuser in the face. Directing the policemen to bring their prisoner to a police station, where he could substantiate his charge, Mr. Morton jumped into a cab, and was driven quickly from the spot, leaving me in the hands of the policemen, and bewildered by the rapidity of events which, long as they have taken to tell, passed in the space of a few minutes.

My first feeling at finding that my dear mistress had again departed was one of unmitigated terror, and I looked around in trembling dread that now, being once more at the mercy of my brutal master, I should be made to suffer some horrible punishment for having thus given way to my delight at seeing my long-lost friend. But I soon found that, for the present, at any rate, I had nothing to dread. Struggle as he would, my master was in stronger hands than his own. He might curse and swear at me, but he had no power to do more, as, led along gently by a tall, grave, powerful-looking man, and followed by a crowd of noisy, hooting, cheering boys, I slowly made my way down street after street, until, finally, I was stopped before the door of one of the largest police stations of the metropolis. Here my master disappeared from my view, whilst I remained standing in the street, under the charge of my grave-looking conductor, and surrounded by a continually increasing crowd, to whom I was evidently an object of the greatest amusement and curiosity.

Some time had passed in this manner, when the policeman who led me was joined by one of his companions, who, having said some words very quickly to him, of which I only caught “donkey and cart,” there was a renewed bustle and stir around me, and then the traces that fastened me to the cart were unhooked, and I was led through the crowd, now cheering louder than before, toward a doorway, so blocked up by people that I felt quite frightened, and refused to go on.

“Come, Neddy, come along,” said the policeman who had held me hitherto. “There is no one who will hurt you here; you need not be afraid.” And at the same time he desired his companion to go on, and make a way through the crowd.

Encouraged by the kind voice in which he spoke, and by seeing that the people fell back right and left at the orders of his companion, I plucked up my courage, and stepped through the door into a passage, broad and paved with stones like those on which people walk in the streets of London. I had never been in such an odd place before, and I did not half like it, and was more than once inclined to turn back; but the man kept a firm but gentle hold of me, leading me on, till at last two great doors were thrown open, and I found myself in a large room filled with people, sitting on benches raised one above another. I was quite bewildered at the sight of so many heads,—more especially as at my first coming in there was a general buzz of voices, and all eyes were evidently fixed on myself.

A loud cry of “Silence! silence!” gave me a moment to recover myself, and then I heard a grave voice say:

“Let the donkey judge for himself. You are at liberty to call him,” added the gentleman, turning to my late master, whom I now for the first time perceived standing in an open space in the centre of the room.

“Here, Neddy—Neddy—come here, Neddy. There is a good donkey, come here,” said the man in a voice of the most insinuating gentleness; but as I had never heard him speak so before, no wonder I did not recognize its tones, and the only answer I made was to hang down my ears and plant my tail very firmly between my legs.

There was a general burst of laughter that not the presence of that grave-looking gentleman, nor the reiterated cries of “Silence! silence in the court, there!” could in any measure suppress; while a voice exclaimed: “He has had the donkey, that is clear enough, for the poor brute thinks he is going to beat him now. Hush! hush! See what he is going to do next. Here comes the lady. Silence! Hush! hush!”

“Now, madam, it is your turn,” I heard the grave-looking gentleman say; and in another moment I saw my dear mistress rise up from a seat by his side, and, leaning on the arm of her father, come down into the open court.

“Neddy! dear Neddy!” she said, just in the way that she used to call me up to the fence years ago. I forgot all my past misery, and, thinking only of my joy at beholding her, I set up such a bray as I had never brayed in all my life before! Oh, how the people shouted with laughter! The very judge could not resist the infection of their merriment, and gave way in spite of himself.

Why, what had I done that was so ridiculous? I could only express my joy with the voice which nature had given me. If it was not so sweet and gentle as some of theirs, that was not my fault. At any other moment my self-love might have been seriously wounded; but now I could only think of my delight, and, breaking away from the policemen who held me, I went right up to my mistress, and, rubbing my nose against her hand, I whinnied out my happiness, entreating her as best I could to let me stay with her now and for ever.

There was no laughter in the court then; and I have heard my mistress say since that there were tears in many an eye. Real, genuine affection is somewhat rare in this world, and, when it is found, it goes straight to the heart even of the most hardened; and there are few so bad that they will make fun of the evidence of pure, unselfish love.

There was a minute’s pause, and then I heard the grave man say, in tones of such kindness as showed his interest in my fate:

“I am quite satisfied, madam. No witnesses that could be produced could speak half so strongly to the truth of your case as does the affectionate remembrance of the poor dumb beast. That the donkey is the one that was stolen from you three years ago, there can be no doubt. All that remains to be proved is, who did the deed; and that, I am afraid, with all his sagacity, the animal will not be able to tell us. I shall send the case to trial; and in the meanwhile,” turning to Mr. Morton, “it is for you to produce the evidence that the man now charged with the theft was the person who stole the donkey.”

“I have no doubt whatever that I shall be able to do so,” replied Mr. Morton.

“You can remove the donkey out of court,” said the grave gentleman, and then he turned to my late master, who was standing dogged and silent, in charge of two of the police, and proceeded to address him in terms which I did not understand, my whole attention being now fixed upon myself, and upon the thought of being separated from my dear mistress, whom I had vainly hoped I was never to leave again. In my anxiety to remain by her side, I quite forgot that I was in a court of justice, and that, as a well-bred English donkey, it was my duty to submit myself to the laws of my land, and I struggled hard to pull away from the policeman’s hold, and to follow my mistress, who was now led back by her father to the seat from which she had risen.

I do not know how the struggle might have ended; but, seeing that my endeavours to get free were disturbing the whole court, my mistress once more came up to me, and, patting me gently on the forehead: “Oh, Neddy,” she said, “this is very naughty of you! Come with me.” How could I disobey?

“You may leave him,” she said to my conductor; “he will go away with me directly.”

Go away with her? Of course I would, to the world’s end. My first journey, however, was destined to be a much shorter one; for, no sooner had I quietly walked by her side through the court-house into the passage than, placing my rein in the hand of the policeman:

“He will follow you now, I think,” she said. “Go, Neddy; there is a good Neddy. I will come to see you very soon. Good-bye, Neddy!” and, patting me kindly, before I had time to look around, she was gone.

A crowd, little short of that which had accompanied me to the court, was awaiting my return, and eager inquiries greeted my conductor as to the result of the trial. Every one talked so fast and so loud that I could not make out much of what was said; but I gathered sufficient to make me very happy in the feeling I should soon be restored to my pleasant home, and that meanwhile I was to be left in the care of my present guardian, whose kindness toward me had already impressed me greatly in his favour.

I gleaned, too, from what I heard, that the result of the trial depended mainly on the evidence of some man who was supposed to have seen me soon after I was stolen from my dear mistress.

This set my brain working; and, as I walked by the side of my conductor toward my new place of abode, I tried hard to recall all the events of the past three years, and think whether there was any one person whom I could remember who could have recognized me in the time of my degradation. In vain! in vain! I could not recall one old friend who could bear testimony to my identity.

Suddenly there came upon me a flash of light, and I bethought me of the man who, on that wretched morning after my capture, had refused, as I then thought, to rescue me from my dreaded slavery. Who knew but that now he might come forward, and, recognizing my master as the man he had then accosted, might for ever set me free from his power?

It was a bright and happy thought, and kept me up through several long, long days of dreary suspense,—days rendered so much the longer that I had nothing whatever to do, but to ruminate sadly over the past. Not but that I was comfortable enough in my present abode, and had plenty to eat and to drink; but I had been so accustomed of late to an active, stirring life that I got tired of standing hour after hour tied up to a manger, with no one to speak to but a few chance companions, who, like myself, were condemned to a temporary imprisonment. We had all our griefs and sorrows, and could all, no doubt, have told some strange and wonderful adventures; but, one and all, we shrunk from anything like fellowship, and, shutting up in our own hearts our hopes or our fears, awaited, with what patience we could, the verdict which was to open to us our new and unknown career.

CHAPTER VIII.

NEDDY GETS HOME AGAIN