Citation
Tuppy, or, The autobiography of a donkey /

Material Information

Title:
Tuppy, or, The autobiography of a donkey /
Portion of title:
Autobiography of a donkey
Creator:
Burrows, E.
Weir, Harrison, 1824-1906
Greenaway, John, 1816-1890
Leighton, John, 1822-1912
James Burn & Company
Griffith and Farran
Savill and Edwards
Place of Publication:
London
Publisher:
Griffith and Farran
Manufacturer:
Savill and Edwards
Publication Date:
Copyright Date:
1860
Language:
English
Physical Description:
100, 32 p., <4> leaves of plates : ill. ; 18 cm.

Subjects

Subjects / Keywords:
Donkeys -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Human-animal relationships -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Humanitarianism -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Publishers' catalogues -- 1860 ( rbgenr )
Pictorial cloth bindings (Binding) -- 1860 ( rbbin )
Leighton -- Signed bindings (Binding) -- 1860 ( rbbin )
Burn -- Binders' tickets (Binding) -- 1860 ( rbbin )
Bldn -- 1860
Genre:
Publishers' catalogues ( rbgenr )
Pictorial cloth bindings (Binding) ( rbbin )
Signed bindings (Binding) ( rbbin )
Binders' tickets (Binding) ( rbbin )
novel ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage:
England -- London
Target Audience:
juvenile ( marctarget )

Notes

General Note:
Publisher's catalogue follows text.
General Note:
Binding design signed: "JL" <i.e. John Leighton.>
General Note:
Ill. engraved and signed by J. Greenaway drawn after Harrison Weir.
Statement of Responsibility:
by the author of "The triumphs of steam," "Our Eastern Empire," ... etc. ; with four illustrations by Harrison Weir.

Record Information

Source Institution:
University of Florida
Holding Location:
University of Florida
Rights Management:
This item is presumed to be in the public domain. The University of Florida George A. Smathers Libraries respect the intellectual property rights of others and do not claim any copyright interest in this item. Users of this work have responsibility for determining copyright status prior to reusing, publishing or reproducing this item for purposes other than what is allowed by fair use or other copyright exemptions. Any reuse of this item in excess of fair use or other copyright exemptions may require permission of the copyright holder. The Smathers Libraries would like to learn more about this item and invite individuals or organizations to contact The Department of Special and Area Studies Collections (special@uflib.ufl.edu) with any additional information they can provide.
Resource Identifier:
AAA4482 ( LTQF )
ALG3407 ( NOTIS )
47888367 ( OCLC )
026615667 ( AlephBibNum )

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TUPPY AND HIS MOTHER.— Page 2,



“TUPPY:

on,

THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

BY TUE AUTHOR OF

“THE TRIUMPHS OF STEAM,” “OUR EASTERN EMPIRE,”
: “MIGHT NOT RIGHT,” ETC.

SECOND EDITION.

WITH FOUR ILLUSTRATIONS
By Warrison UHetr.

LONDON :

GRIFFITH AND FARRAN
(SUCCESSORS TO NEWBERY & HARRIS),
CORNER OF ST. PAUL’S CHURCHYARD.
MDCCCLXI.



LONDON:
PRINTED BY WERTHEIMER AND CO.,
CIRCUS PLACE, FINSBURY CIRCUS.



CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.

My earliest Recollections—I find my Mother rather a dull Companion
—I make Friends with Old Thomas—The return of my Master’s
Family—My First Interview with my dear Mistress—Annie and I

become great Friends . . - +. . pp. 116
CHAPTER II.

My Mistress leaves Home—On her Return I do not know her—My

First Lesson, and who was the Best Master. . . . . 17—29

CHAPTER III.

I learn to draw my Mistress’s Carriage—I see the World, and listen
to Evil Counsel—A Trick, and what came of it—tI find that, after
all, Honesty is the best Policy . . . 2... 1. 80—43

CHAPTER IV.

A Real Grievance—Richard and I declare War against each other—A
Struggle—I gain a Victory, and am conquered in my turn—I
change Masters, and enter a new Phase of Existence . 44—59

CHAPTER V.

I travel into all Parts of England, and make acquaintance with every
Variety of People—At length I come to London—Regent-street
in mid-day—A Recognition—I make my first Appearance in a
Police Court, and prove myself a Valuable Witness—I take up
my Abode inthe “Green Yard.” . . . . . . . . 60—84

CHAPTER VI.

The Trial comes to an end—An old Friend visits my Stable—I take
my first Railway Excursion, and find myself in well-remembered
Scenes—Home again—Conclusion . . . . . . . 85—100



THE idea of this little story, the main incident
of which is strictly true, was suggested by read-
ing a curious trial published in the Tzmes about

three years ago.

Lonpon, 1859.



i

TUPPY:

THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

CHAPTER I.

My earliest Recollections —I find my Mother rather a dull

‘ Companion—I make friends with Old Thomas—The Return.

of my Master’s Family—My First Interview with my dear
Mistress—Annie and I become great Friends.

Tue Story of an Ass, and written by Himself! !
Ah! good reader, have patience with me. It is
not the first time that such an indiscretion has
been committed, and doubtless it will not be the
last. And, indeed, if I did not think I had some-
thing pleasant to relate I would not trespass upon
your patience; but now, as in my old ageI quietly

_ graze through the summer days in my pleasant

green field, or keep myself warm in my comfort-
able winter shed, I often think over my past
career, and it seems to me to have been so full of

strange events, that I am induced to jot down

B



2 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

some few of its most stirring incidents, in the hope
that whilst my faults may be a warning to some,
the blessing that has attended my earnest desire to
do my duty may be a comfort and encouragement
to all.

~ My first recollection of life is finding myself
lying quietly down by my mother’s side on the
soft, green grass of a large field. Very pleasant
it looked to me, as [ lay there under the shadow
of a great oak tree, and looked out upon the sun-
shiny landscape, and I thought I should never be
tired of lying there quite still, and admiring all the
wonderfully beautiful objects which met my eyes
wherever they turned.

‘But as soon as I began to be a little stronger,
this state of inaction became tiresome; my curiosity
was aroused to see what there might be beyond
my own little world, and many a frisk I took away
from my mother’s side, to peep over a hedge into |
another field, and amuse myself by looking at some
animals very different to ourselves, which my
mother said were cows; but I did not admire their
shape so much as our own, and as to their horns,
I did not think them half so pretty as our ears.
‘Then, when I had looked at the cows till I was
tired, off I. would gambol-to where some iron rails



THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 3

separated our field from a long, sloping lawn,
bright with beds of many-coloured flowers. Hvery
day I seemed to spy out something more beautiful
than before, and I would gallop back to my
mother, and ask her to come and look too, and tell
me what was the name of this or that wonderful
new thing.

But my mother was not of so adventurous a
spirit as I was, or possibly she was getting old,
and did not like to be troubled with all my endless
questions; she was very ready to tell me what little
she knew, but she was not the least ‘desirous of
increasing her stock of knowledge. ‘Ah! my
son,” she would say sometimes, as she gave her
ears a melancholy shake, ‘‘ I foresee there is a great
deal of unhappiness in store for you. Why must
you always be spying about into that which does not
concern you; why are you not content to stay quietly
by your mother’s side? When you are my age
you will know the wisdom of just simply enjoying
your tuft of grass or draught of water without
troubling your head as to what the rest of the
world are doing.”

“Very likely,” I replied, with a kick of
disdain, for I was a pert young donkey from my
earliest years ; “‘ but as I am not so old as you are

B2



A THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY,

by a long way, you need not expect that I should
consider munching up grass from morning to night
is the perfection of earthly happiness. I want to
‘know what life is and what goes on beyond this
field. I declare I get sick to death of hearing you
munch, munch, munch, as if you had nota thought
beyond your nose.”

** Ah! my son,” said my mother, sadly, “ you will
know what lifeis soon enough, never fear, and what
work is, and poor fare, and hard blows; and then,
when your back aches and your sides are sore, you
will remember your mother’s words, and think that
if you could but get back again into this pleasant
field, you would trouble yourself very little with
what is going on in the outer world.”

For a moment I was silent. Work,—poor fare,—
and hard blows were not pleasant-sounding words.
I had never heard them before, and I began to
wonder what they meant; but my mind was
suddenly distracted by a sound behind the hedge,
cand off I scampered to see what it might be, and
by the time I came back again to my mother’s side,
I had forgotten the expressions that had alarmed
me, and was as full of tricks and gambols as I had
been before.

But though my mother was not fond of conver-



THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. By

sation, yet I gathered from words which she would
occasionally let fall, sufficient to make me under-
stand that we were the servants of a gentleman of
good property, that my mother’s business was to
draw his wife out in a little carriage, she being
in delicate health; and when I asked why I had
never seen her doing this, she told me the family
had all been away for some time, but that she
should be glad when they came home again, for they
were all very kind to her, and often brought her
some nice things, such as a carrot, or some cabbage
leaves, or occasionally even a small feed ‘of corn.

‘The idea of these dainties made my mouth
water, and I began to be as impatient as my
mother for the return of my master’s family,
hoping that I, too, might come in for a share in her
good fortune. So anxious was I to know when
they were coming, that at length my incessant
teasing became unbearable to my mother, and she
angrily told me “‘to go and ask that old man on
the lawn there, for he was the only person the
least likely to be able to gratify my curiosity.”

It was very easy to say “Ask,” but how was I to
make him understand what I wanted to know ?
Not but that we were very good friends. I had
made his acquaintance some time ago, during one



6 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

of my visits to the iron railings which shut me out.
from my favourite flower-garden. At first, when he
had come near me, I had felt very much frightened,
and had scampered away as hard as I could, but.
he called out so ‘pleasantly, “‘Wo—so ho, little
Neddy!” that though I did not know that was my
name, yet I was sure he meant me, and so I sum-
moned up courage to turn round and look him in
the face, and a very kind face it was, and he held
out his hand so coaxingly, that I was induced to
come a few steps forward, but then my heart mis-
gave me, and I took two bounds back.
- © Whoo—little Neddy—whoo,”’ said the kind
voice again, “sure. Thomas will not hurt you.
Come my little man, come and be scratched.”

‘ Such an invitation was irresistible. Again I
turned, walking a few steps towards my new ac-
quaintance, then I stopped. ‘Come, come,” said
the voice again, and I made a few steps more in
advance. Again I heard. myself encouraged, and
now I had approached near enough by stretching
out my neck to smell whether there was any mis-
chief in the hand that was stretched out towards
me. No, all seemed safe, and the hand was held
steady till I had been able to sniff all round it, and
satisfy myself that no harm was intended me; then



THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. a

the hand was gently raised to my head, and the
pleasantest sensation I had ever felt in my life was
transferred to my whole body. Oh, how soothing;
how delightful was that rubbing and scratching,
and I browsed against my new friend, and looked
up. in his face, as marel as to say, “Oh! do it
again, please do it again.”

“What, you like it, little Neddy, you like it, ae
you,” said the kind voice; “ah! I ee we
should soon be friends.”*

: Friends, I should think we were; Sai that day.
forth I was always on the look-out for Old Thomas,
and no sooner did I see him come on to the lawn:
than I would gallop up to the iron railings, kick
up my -heels, and bray out my welcome in my:
loudest voice, though by the way I soon began to
perceive that this was not the most pleasing style
of address to my friend. “There, Neddy, there,”*
he would say, ‘‘that is quite enough of that noise;
be silent, do.” At first, I must confess, my vanity
was. so much hurt, I felt mclined to turn my back
and take no further notice of my friend, but: I was
goon sensible that I should be the greatest loser
by such folly, and so wisely endeavouring to alter,
my mode of salutation, I rubbed my nose against
the iron railings, and made the softest and most



8 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY,

whinnying tones of which my voice was capable.
It had the desired effect. Old Thomas evidently
saw, that I had got the better of my little tempers,
and was trying my best to be pleasant, and so he
would put down his rake or his hoe, or leave the |
flowers he was tying up, and bring me a few car-
rots, or an apple or two, or something equally good,
and as he was feeding me, he would say kindly—

“Ah! little Neddy, you are a good-hearted little
beast, full of spirits, but not a bit of vice about
you, and you will be a rare beauty one of these
days, that you will. How my young missus will _
admire you!”

And then I would rub myself against his hand
and look up in his face, as much as to say, “‘ Who
1g your young missus? Tell me.”

And so by degrees, as I say, we had grown
very intimate, and I could understand almost every-
thing Thomas said to me, but I was grieved to
find he did not comprehend my meaning so easily,
so that it was very difficult to get an answer to
what I wished to ask him. Sometimes he would say,
** Why, Neddy, you have got such intelligent eyes,
you look a’most as if you could speak. I wonder
what you have got to say to me. Is it more
carrots you want, ay, Neddy?”’ and he would hold



a

THR AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 9

out a carrot so close to my mouth that though
that was not what I wanted at all, yet for the life
of me I could not resist the temptation of eating it
up; and so Thomas misunderstood my meaning,and
went away, thinking perhaps what a greedy little
donkey I was, whilst all the time I was only seek-
ing for instruction and information. Ah! well;
I have listened since then to what many a man has
said of his neighbour or his friend, and I have come
to the conclusion, it is not only animals whose
earnest longings after truth must remain ungrati-
_ fied, and whose best actions are liable to be mis-
interpreted. If man cannot understand his fellow-
men, no wonder he knows very little of what dumb
brutes are thinking about.

Well, then, that day, when my mother got angry
with me for teasing her, and told me to be off and
ask Old Thomas, I felt piqued and angry. ‘Who
knows,” thought I, “but that Ican make him tell
me, and then there will be a triumph, for mother
only sends me to him because she is cross, and
because she thinks I shall never be able to find
out ;” so, putting on my most pleasing manners, for
we can all seem to be very good-humoured when
we have got any end to gain by it, however cross
we may feel inside all the while, I galloped up to



10 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.’

the iron railings, and began whinnying in my
most engaging tones. It was not long before I
attracted the notice of Thomas, who, looking up
from his work, said, in his usual kind tone,
. “Ah, little Neddy, you are come, are you? I
have nothing for you to-day.”

| Now though I quite understoodthis disappointing
announcement, yet I was not one bit more inclined.
to go away. I had come for a particular purpose,
and I was determined to accomplish it, if possible.
Our race have the character of being obstinate, and.
though I like to dignify it by the name of perse-
verance, yet I suppose Iam no better than the rest
of my species. Any way,I began a series of gambols,
such as generally succeeded in bringing old Thomas
to my side. But in vain. I kicked my best kicks,
gambolled round in circles, pricked up my ears, and
even tried a short, very short bray. It was all to
no purpose, Thomas went steadily on with his
work, paying no attention to all my antics. At
length, sick’ of an exhibition which attracted no
admirers, I wag on the point of returning, very
much out of humour, to my mother’s side, when:
suddenly I saw Thomas leave off work for an
instant, and resting on his spade, he looked
towards me. This was encouragement enough,



THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 11

and again drawing near the rails, I began rubbing:
my nose against them. more wistfully than before.
“Poor little Neddy,”’ he said, as he walked
slowly up to me, ‘you will soon have a better
playfellow than I am.”

_I pricked up my ears at the words. “ Ah!”
thought I, “‘now it is coming.”

. © You see, I have no time to waste with you.
to-day, Neddy,” continued Thomas, ‘I have got
to get the place to rights. The master’s coming
home; can you understand that, Neddy ?”

Understand it, of course I could, and Lrubbed my
head against Thomas’s hand to ask him to go on.

- «© And when he comes, he must not see so much
as a leaf out of its place,” said Thomas; “no bits
of carrots left by the rails, my little donkey. But
it is not long you will be left without a bite of
summat, I guess. When Miss Annie sees you,
I am very much mistaken if she does not give you
more than ever Old Thomas did. You will forget
your old friend then, maybe, Neddy. ae’

Now somehow, though his voice sounded sor-
rowful as he- said these words, I was so overjoyed’
at having made the discovery that the family were.
returning, that I paid no heed to Thomas’s grief,
my only thought was to get back to my mother,:



12 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

and tell her the news as fast as possible. So break-
ing from the kind hand that was stroking me,
I turned hastily away.

“ Ah! itis just like ’em all,” I heard old Thomas
say; ‘‘men and beasts, they be much alike; they
will come fast enough if they think you have got
anything for them, and then, when they have got
all they can, off they go, like a shot, without so
much as a ‘ Thankye.’ ”

I hardly noticed the words then. I was very-
young, very conceited, and very much spoiled ; but’
I have often thought of them since, when I have
known what it was to have my own heart well nigh
broken by the unkindness of others. Ah me!
it is all very well for us old folks to preach. The
young ones will never pay a whit more heed to
any thing we may say than we did to our fathers.
Every one must buy his experience for himself.
' Happy he who pays least dearly for it.

It was a day or two after my last conversation
with Thomas that, as I was frisking about the
field, feeling in more than usually high spirits, I
suddenly heard a voice exclaim, “ Oh! look, look,’
Papa—did you ever see such a little darling ?”

My natural self-sufficiency leading me instantly
to suppose that this term could apply to no other



THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY, 138

than myself, I turned immediately in the direction
of the speaker, and for a moment stood astonished
as I saw a beautiful little girl running towards me,
Whether it was that she came so fast towards me.
or whether it was that she was so unlike Thomas
or any thing I had ever seen before, I cannot say ;
but a panic seized me, and without waiting to give
a second look, I galloped off, and never stopped till
I found myself safely ensconced on the further side
of my mother. Then I took courage to look up,
and saw that my pursuer had also given up the
chase. :

Finding this was the case, and emboldened also
by seeing that my mother showed no sign of alarm,
I peeped out again, and then went a few steps in
advance. .

“Gently Annie, gently my love,” I heard the
elder person say; “do not frighten the little thing.
Let us find it something to eat, it will come
then.”

“Oh, yes, papa; Thomas says it comes up every
day to be fed. I will run and fetch some carrots,
may I?”

The permission being given, off ran the little
girl, and by the time she had returned, I had suffi--
ciently mastered my emotion to approach with a



14 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

tolerable degree of self-possession. Still it was not
without considerable alarm that I saw Annie come
inside the fence, and walk up to where I was stand-
ing ; and I confess I should have been glad to have
had the railings as a protection between us. I dare
‘say you think this was very silly, and so it was;
but can you never remember, kind reader, the time
when your faults or your follies made you wish to
keep the railings between your best friend and
yourself? However, this was the last time that I
ever committed such a mistake with Annie.

From that day forward we became the best of
friends. I never was so happy as when I was
-with her, and few days passed that she did not pay
me two or three visits—sometimes she would coax
me back with’ her to the house, and even take
me with her into one of the sitting rooms.

But I did not like those visits, and always
escaped from them when I could. It was quite
contrary to my nature to behave with the degree
of quiet propriety which was necessary in society.
My mistress schooled and taught me to the best of
her ability, and I did what I could to follow her
instructions; but I am afraid I was not at all an
apt scholar. Inever felt at my ease in a room
fitted up with all sorts of strange, queer-looking



THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 15

things, of which I did not understand the use, and
which I always dreaded I should knock down and
destroy, and so get into disgrace ; and I took pains
to show her I only came into the house to obey
her, and not from any wish of my own. I think
she understood me, for she would often say, in her
land caressing way,

“Oh! Tuppy, you like being out in the fields,
frisking about, better than coming intothe drawing-
room, I can see that plainly enough; but, Tuppy,
you must remember, you must learn to behave like
a well-bred little donkey, for if you spend all your
life frisking about on the grass, you will grow up
so ignorant that I shall be quite ashamed of you,
Tuppy; and, after all, you are much better off
than I am—I sit for hours, and hours, and hours,
quite still, learning my lessons,and you—you stupid
little thing, you are tired if you stand still for five
minutes together. Ah! Tuppy, you have a great
deal to learn before your education is finished.”

And so I had, though I did not know it then;
and like a thoughtless little creature as I was, I
did not trouble my head about what was to take
place in the future—perfectly content to go gam-
bolling about in the enjoyment of the happy
present.



16 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY,

Those were pleasant times, and my memory likes
to go back to them. It is astonishing how fond
the old are of recalling the enjoyments of their
young days, and perhaps they are a little apt to
forget that what is so very pleasant to themselves
is rather tedious to others; and so I shall keep the
remembrance of the first three happy years of my
life for my own consolation, and pass rapidly on
to the more stirring period of my existence,



CHAPTER II.

My Mistress leaves Home—On her Return I donot know her
—My First Lesson, and who was the Best Master.

My master’s family had been away from home for
a long, long, time—so long, that I had almost given
up all hopes of seeing them again, and was getting
very impatient; besides, my life in the field was
very dull. My mother had left it some time ago,
and I never heard anything of her now. -Not that
T regretted that very much. She had long since
ceased to think about me, and had centred all her
affection upon a younger child. Still, as long as
she was in the field, she was some sort of com-
panion for me, and I was now growing to an age
to be impatient of solitude, and to wish for more
stirring occupation than wandering round. and
round the meadow by myself, and having nothing
to do but to eat and to drink. Occasionally, indeed,
I still saw Old Thomas; but our intercourse was
not so frequent as it used to be, and indeed was
of quite a different kind. I no longer felt it con-
0



18 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

sistent with my dignity to frisk and gambol about ;
and even when kindnesses were offeredto me I could,
when I pleased, assume an air of such perfect indif-
ference, that I think if my mistress could have
seen me she would have acknowledged I was
_ rapidly acquiring that manner of society about
which she was always instructing me. In fact, my
perfect self-possession and entire indifference to
the feelings or comforts of any one but myself,
would not have disgraced the most well-bred
exquisite in the land.

Matters were in this state, when one day, as I
was standing all alone under the oak tree, thinking
over my own perfections, and how unworthy my
position was of my deserts, I suddenly heard a
well-remembered voice call ‘“ Tuppy—Tuppy !”
Turning quickly round, I was on the point of going
to meet the speaker, when instead of the little girl I
knew as my mistress, I beheld a tall, elegant-look-
ing lady coming towards me; so putting on my
most dignified air, I stayed quietly under the great
tree, lazily moving my ears, as much as to say—
‘“HereamI; if you want me, you must come to me.”
' “What, Tuppy, do you not remember me?
Have you forgotten your mistress P Oh, Tuppy,you
ungrateful donkey |”



THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 19

She spoke so kindly and yet so sorrowfully, that
I felt pained to the heart, not only at my stupidity
in forgetting her, but at my folly in having tried
to play off my grand airs before her, Still, I did
not like to acknowledge myself to have been in the
wrong, and so instead of doing what my heart
dictated, and galloping instantly to meet her, I
contented myself with coming a few steps forward,
and then standing perfectly still. I was properly
punished for my pride when I heard my mistress
say, as she turned to her father, who had just
joined her,

“Oh, papa, would you believe it? Tuppy has

‘quite forgotten me; I have always heard donkeys
are stupid and incapable of feeling attachment, but
I thought Tuppy would be an exception; oh,
papa, I am so sorry.”

“Tuppy, Tuppy!”’ she added, as she held out
her hand; ‘you do not know how you have grieved
me.”

To hear myself so kindly spoken to, when I had
deserved such different treatment, completely broke
down my obstinate pride,and trotting up to my mis-
tress as fast as I could, I began to rub my head
against her hand, and to whinny out my sorrow
for my past misconduct, and my promises of

C2



20 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

amendment for the future—excuses which my
kind mistress was only too ready to receive; and
in a few- minutes our reconciliation was complete,
and I felt happier than I had done for months
past.

“Poor Tuppy,” said my kind mistress, as she
continued to caress me; “I ought to have remem-
bered that. I am as much changed as you are
yourself. Is he not altered, papa? He is not
nearly so pretty as he was when he was little ; but
-he is a very handsome donkey still—do you not
think so, papa ?” -

Could there be a doubt upon such a subject ?
Why, the very idea put me into an ill-humour ; so
entirely had I brought myself to believe that I was
one of the most beautiful creatures in the world.
Often and often had I stood forthe hour together
in the clear water of the brook which ran at the
bottom of the field, and as I saw my image reflected
in the water, I was never tired of admiring my
long soft ears, the bright brown of my coat, or the
deep black cross marked out so clearly on my
shoulder. Ah! well, when we live very much
alone, we are apt to get very false impressions.
It is only by mixing with our fellows that we
learn to estimate our merits aright; pushing

>



‘THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 21'

through the world rubs off the sharp angles
ayondenfully:

I was so ingrossed with my own thoughts of
mortified vanity, that I did not hear what passed
between Mr. Morton and his daughter, till suddenly
my ears caught the sound,

‘Thomas shall break him in, my love—and then
you shall drive him in the little chaise.”

“Oh! I shall like that,” replied my nistebae ;
“can it be done at once, papa! p”

“Yes, directly Thomas is at leisure.” oe

“Then good-bye, Tuppy, for to-day,” continued
‘my mistress, as she again patted my forehead; “‘we
shall soon be better acquainted. I wonder whether’
‘you will like drawing me in the carriage as well as
playing with me in the field. Ah, Tuppy, will
you be a good little donkey, and trot ‘along as
fast as I know you can trot when you like it?” :

I rubbed my head against her by way of reply,
and then, when she left me, began to muse not over
pleasantly on the words she had just spoken. I
had no very clear idea, certainly, of what they
meant, but they conveyed a sort of shadowy notion
to my mind that my days of liberty were over, and
that now J was to be put to some such work as I
-had often seen. my mother dog. I used to re-



92 . HE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

‘monstrate with her then, on allowing herself to be
so tamely yoked to the chaise, drawing it about in
all weathers, and tiring herself to death dragging
it up steep hills and over stony roads—and when
she would gravely shake her head, and say with a
gentle sigh, ‘It was her destiny ;' it was better to
yield to it with a good heart and do her duty
cheerfully, than to resist and be beaten,”’ I used
+o jeer at her for a meek-spirited creature, who had
not pluck enough to stand up in her own defence,
‘and tell her when my turn came she would see a
very different state of affairs.

“My son,’ my mother would reply, “if you
think you have come into the world merely to
amuse yourself, you make a very great mistake ;
we all have our allotted tasks. They must be
done. Happy those who can find pleasure in the
doing of them. Take my advice; you are placed
here to be the servant of those much stronger and
wiser than yourself. If you resist their will, you
will smart for it with kicks and blows. If you try
to do your duty faithfully, you will find it will
bring its own reward.”

My mother seldom made so long a speech, and
finding I paid but little attention, she did not
again trouble me with her advice; and indeed I



‘THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 23

soon forgot her words till they were brought back
to my recollection by those of my young mistress,
and a very uncomfortable feeling they gave me.

The following day I was busy eating my break-
fast, when I saw Thomas come into the field holding
something in his hand. My suspicions being
aroused, I determined to have a good look at the
enemy before allowing his nearer approach; so
with a snort of defiance I started back, prepared,
if necessary, to take to my heels and be off.

*‘So—whoo—gently, Neddy,” said Thomas, who,
to my great disgust, insisted on ‘calling me by this
plebeian title ; ‘‘koop—koop, Neddy,” added
Thomas, putting his arm behind him, that I might
not see what he carried in his hand.

But this action, instead of disarming my suspi-
cions, only excited them further. If no foul play
was intended, what was there to conceal? and so,
determined to be on the safe side, with a defiant
kick, I started off at a gallop, as much as to say,
‘Catch me who can.”

I soon found out that old Thomas’s feeble legs
were no match for my young nimble ones, and,
having got the advantage, I kept it; and a pretty
chase I led my old friend; now for a moment I
would stand still, and look at him as if I intended



2A, THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

to give myself up his prisoner, and then in. an
instant—just as he thought I was within his reach
—I would slip from his reat and be off with a
: gallop to the other end of the field.

How long this struggle might have continued 1t
is impossible for me to say. Thomas was evidently
losing both his breath and his temper, whilst I was
only gettimg. my wind in the enjoyment of the
game. But just at this instant who should come
into the field but my young mistress.

_ «What, Thomas! ” oe exclaimed, “ cannot you
catch Tuppy ?”

“Catch him,” repeated Thomas, standing still and
wiping the perspiration off his face; “‘you might as
well try to catch the Will o’ the wisp. He wants a

good flogging, that he does, to bring him to order.”
-. Qh, do not flog him,” said my mistress, ina
tone of alarm; ‘you will spoil his temper if ree
do, Thomas.”

“ Spare the rod and spoil the child,” answered
_ Thomas, in his dry peculiar way. 5
. Ah; we know better than that now, Thomas,”
rephed my mistress with a smile.

_. “Just like all you young ones, ou always think
‘you know. better than your elders,” said Thomas,
rather gruffly; “a taste of the whip is a very good



THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 25

thing sometimes, and to my thinking it is a pity
some folks do not get it a little oftener.”’

“The whip is a good executioner, Thomas, but
it is a very bad schoolmaster. It is much easier
to whip a child into a bad humour than a good
one; of that I am sure, and I think animals are
much the same.’

“ Sure, Miss Annie,*you do not mean to tell me
that you think it right that that little beast there
should tire me to bits and get no punishment? He
knows fast enough that he ought to come, only he
only he is sly enough for that.”

I felt quite flattered by the compliment, and
at rejoiced that I had managed to outwat
Old Thomas so skilfully.

“But you forget, Thomas, he cannot tell tiow
much he is tiring you; very likely heis only fright-
ened. - If you will promise me not to whip him, I
will promise to catch him for you.”

** You catch him!” said Thomas.

Yes; Tam sure I could. Will you promise?”

“A bargain is a bargain, Miss Annie. If you
can catch him he is safe from me.”
- Without another word, Annie came towards me.
. * Here, Tuppy, good Tuppy; come here; come
to me, Tuppy.”



26 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

Should I yield myself up? I eyed Thomas, and
I thought, “ No, no; soft words are not enough for
me; I will be off whilst there is time.”

But then I looked at my mistress, and I remem-
bered how kind she had always been to me, and
how grieved I had felt when I had pained her, and
how I had promised myself I would never do so
again; and so I thought to myself, ‘‘ Here is the
time now to show you are sorry; give yourself up,
Tuppy, without more ado :” and I came a few steps
on to meet my mistress, but then my heart mis-
gave me, and I stood snorting and uncertain.

“‘ What is it, Tuppy ? what are you afraid of ?”
said my mistress, kindly; ‘no one will hurt you.
Come, Tuppy.”

** She would not surely promise that,” thought
I, “if she could not perform it. She has
never deceived me yet in all these years; I can
trust her;’’ and so summoning up my courage I
walked right up to Annie, and stood rubbing my
head against her hand. Nothing could exceed
Annie’s delight at this proof of my confidence.
She caressed and fondled me, calling me by every
kind name she could think of, until at last even Old
Thomas seemed somewhat appeased ; for he said, in
his pleasant old voice, ‘‘'T'o be sure, Miss, but you



‘THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 27

have a wonderful way of your own. The poor
beast knows who is his best friend, true enough.
He need not be afraid of me now though; my word.
is my word, and you have saved him from a flog-
ging for this once.”’

‘“‘ Suppose you give me the bridle, Thomas; I
will put it over his neck, and then you can put the
bit in his mouth:” and in another moment I felt
some tight thing passing over my forehead, and a
hard cutting substance pressing against my teeth.
This was too much for endurance. I was for spring-
ing back instantly, indignant at what I thought was
a trick to deprive me of my liberty; but it was too _
late, I was caught in a trap, and a firm hand held
me tightly.

“Gently, Tuppy, gently,” said my mistress,

** you will only hurt yourself by pulling ;”’ and she
patted me in such a caressing way, that, angry as
Iwas, I could not help listening. ‘‘ Ah, Tuppy,
we must all take the bits in our mouths; you do
not know, Tuppy, what [ mean; I only wish
you did. But you will soon learn for yourself,
at is much better to obey the rein than to pull
away from it.”

And going back afew steps and then coaxing me
to follow her, I found for myself the truth of what



‘28 ‘THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

‘she said. It was not pleasant to have that great
. dron thing between my teeth, of course not; but
still, ‘as long as I did not pull against it, it did not
‘positively hurt me; and so, sulky as I was, I could
not but acknowledge that the wisest course that
remained for me was to obey, and I did
my best to understand what Thomas said to me,
and to do what I was bid; and, as usual, my
efforts todo right brought their own reward.
‘Thomas was very fairly patient with any little
‘blunders that I made, and as to my mistress, her
praise of my conduct knew no bounds; and when
my first day’s lesson was over, and I stood by her
side, munching up carrots and sugar, and feeling
her soft hand constantly patting my.forehead, I
thought; why, if this was learning, it was not so
‘very unpleasant after all, and I promised myself 1
‘would soon make such progress as would astonish
ay kind teacher.
Happy donkey that Iwas, to have such a mistress.
I know the blessing it was now, though then, I am
-afraid, I put but little store by it. Ah! well, it is
not easy to put old heads on young shoulders, or I
would say to you, my little friends, make the most
‘of your present blessings. If you have gentle
‘loving mothers and kind teachers, be thankful to



THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 29

Him who has given them to you. Do not champ
upon the bit because you find the restraint irksome,
but take it well into your mouth; learn to follow
the slightest touch of the light hand that holds the
rein, and so will you be guided safely in the strait
and narrow road. And if you should be tempted
to turn aside and follow your own devices, and the
rein tightens, and the bit cuts your mouth, and
you are sharply turned back again, take my advice,
be thankful for the pain, and instead of struggling
and hurting yourself more, just retrace your steps,.
and be grateful that the cuts were not deeper, nor
the sores more incurable. .



CHAPTER III.

I learn to draw my Mistress’s Carriage—I see the World, and _
listen to Evil Counsel—A Trick, and what came of it—I
find that, after all, Honesty is the best Policy,

It would be tedious to trace the progress of my
education. Sufficient that at last I was pronounced
to be so well broken in that it was thought safe to
trust me to draw my young mistress out in a pretty
little carriage that had been made expressly for
myself. At first I did not like my new occupation
at all. It was very provoking to be led out of my
pleasant field, when perhaps I had not half finished
my morning’s meal, or was deep in conversation
with some of my neighbours in the adjoining
meadow, or was luxuriously rolling on the soft
grass. ‘T'o be taken away from these enjoyments
to drag a carriage over hot stony roads, and to
stand stock still doing nothing for the hour to-
gether, whilst my mistress was paying her visits ;
all this seemed to me very dull and tedious, but
gradually I became more reconciled to my lot. If



THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 31

it had its disadvantages, it had its pleasures likewise.
T saw the world, I had the opportunity of conversing
with many of my own species, and of seeing how
much happier my life was than that of many others:
and though I confess to my shame, I was apt to for-
get this, and to give way to my temper, and show
obstinacy when things did not go quite as I liked,
grumbling and thinking myself a very ill-used
being; yet I believe on the whole I learned
wisdom by experience, and gave my dear mistress
as little trouble as could be expected.
Occasionally, indeed, I sorely tried her patience.
One instance I well remember. It had chanced
that I had been required to draw my mistress toa
heuse which I had a particular objection to visiting.
It was not only that the road that led to it was
hilly and stony, but it was a place where I never
received the slightest civility. No hay or water
was ever offered me, no shed where I might stand
at my ease out of the hot broiling sunshine; but I
was tied up tight to a post, and expected to stand
there for an hour at a time, whilst’ a nasty yelping
cur would come to bark at my heels, and the village
children peeping at me from over the rails, would
make fun of my helpless condition. All this wag
very hurtful to my vanity, and having in vain tried



BVA THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

to show my mistress by my obstinate manner that I
did not approve of being taken to Barstead, I de-.
termined one day, when as usual I was tied up to
the post, to relieve myself from the hated bondage,
hoping by constant pullings to be able to break
the reins, when I had made up my mind to run
away home, leaving my mistress to follow as best
she might.

But it was all in vain for me 4o pull and tug;
the reins were strongerthanI. Iwas only fretting
myself into a fever and making myself more and
more uncomfortable. Thoroughly out of humour,
I was venting my anger in a series of impatient
snorts, when suddenly I heard a short sneering
neigh close to my side, and looking up I saw a
little rough pony standing quite close to me, evi-
dently enjoying my distress.

“Why, my good friend,” said he, “‘ what is the
matter ? you seem very unhappy; can I be of any
assistance P”

The patronizing tone in which he spoke com-
pletely disconcerted me, for I donot know anything
more provoking than to expose your own helpless-
ness and incapacity to any one superior to yourself
in intellect and station; so putting on a dogged
air of composure, I declined his kind offer of



THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 33

assistance, telling him I was only trying to shift my
bridle a bit, and that I had done it now for myself.

The mocking neigh which was his. only answer
showed me in.a moment that my falsehood was
discovered, and. that I had. only lowered. myself
still further in the opinion of my new acquaintance.

“My good fellow,” he said, “‘ you do not suppose
I have worn a bridle all these years to learn that
you are not going the right way-to ease. the bit.
Better tell me the truth; I am older than you, and
if I am not much mistaken I have seen a good deal
more. of life than you have;. come, what is the
matter? Out with it, and I will help you if I can.”

There was something in his cheery, good-natured
manner that conquered my pride, and in ‘spite of |
myself I soon found that I was talking to him as if
he had been an old friend, and telling him my
grievances as openly-as if he had been my brother.

«‘And now,” said I, in conclusion, “ what would
you advise me to do ?P””
- “Mo do,” he said; “why, next time your mistress
brings you to Barstead, lame yourself.”

‘Lame myself,” exclaimed I; “why, the remedy
would be worse than the disease.”

“You little innocent!” said my friend, with his
sneering laugh; “you made no scruple in telling a

D



a4 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

lie just now, why should you. find it more difficult
to act one?”

Involuntarily my ears wagged with horror as I
caught a glimpse of his meaning. I had been
tempted into a hasty falsehood in support of my
dignity. That was bad enough, but deliberately
to enact a lie, to deceive my kind mistress, this
appeared to me the height of ingratitude and
baseness. Alas! I did not remember how easily
one fault leads on to another.

«You asked my advice, and I have given it to
you,” said the pony; ‘‘if you are afraid to follow it
out, why, you must submit to be tied to a post for
the remainder of your life, and that is the proper
place for cowards. It is those only who have the
pluck to dare and to do, who make their way in
this world.”

“T am not afraid,” said I, rather faintly; “it is
not that.”

“ Well then, what is it?”

Coward.that I was, I did not dare to tell him
that I feared to do wrong and vex my kind
mistress, so I only grumbled out something about
the difficulty of deceiving her.

_ © That is of course a point you must decide for
yourself,” replied the pony; “only you must be a



THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 85

great bungler if you cannot manage to take in a
woman. In our relations with mankind, either
they or we must be the masters, and the strongest
will in general carries the day. If force will not
do, try craft; but if you are beaten at both points,
why then, good-bye to your independence for all
time coming; best make up your mind at once to
sink into a mere despised beast of burden for the
rest of your life.”

What further valuable advice my new acquaint-
ance might have given me it is impossible for me
to say, for at this moment my mistress coming out
of the house, the servant came and untied my
reins, and I was led. away from my place of cap-
tivity, having only time to cast a farewell glance
at my friend, and to catch the wicked twinkle of
the bright eyes which glanced from under his
shagey eyebrows.

All the way home I thought over his words ;
indeed, so lost was I at times in the reflection, that
T was unpleasantly aroused by the sharp cut of the
whip across. my shoulders, and the sound of my
mistress’s voice reproving me very severely.

“ Ah, Tuppy,”’ she said, as, having at leneth
arrived at home, she got out of the carriage and
came and stood by my side without giving me so

D2



36 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

much as one pat; “you have gone very badly
indeed to-day, and you will not have a single carrot,
nor a bit of bread, nor a taste of sugar—no, not
one bit. Go away, Tuppy; naughty Tuppy.”

So that was my first experience of the fruits of
evil counsel. But alas! my heart was hardened by
the words of the tempter, and instead of repenting
of my fault, my mistress’s displeasure only made me
more obstinate and more inclined to try and have
my own way, and to persuade myself that it was
she who was unkind and unjust, and that if she
required me to do that which was disagreeable to
me, why, of course, I on my part was quite justified
in avoiding it if possible.

The more I brooded over my imaginary wrongs,
the more ill-used I considered myself to be, and the
more was I inclined to follow the advice of my
tempter. As is always the case, by constantly
dwelling on the fault which I longed to commit,
it gradually appeared to me to become less and
less sinful; I found such endless excuses to justify
my conduct to my own mind, that at length I ceased
to feel any compunction whatever on the subject,
und only awaited a favourable opportunity for
putting my intended deception into practice.

It was not long in offering itself. One beautiful



THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY, OF A DONKEY. ‘37

bright morning about ten days after my last visit to
Barstead, J was, as usual, drawing my mistress’s
carriage. When she turned me up the lane which
led, I knew, to the hateful place, “Ah, ah!”
thought I, “I know where you are going to now,
and will see who carries out their purpose, you
or I.” So I cunningly watched my opportunity,
and began to tread a little—just a very little—
lame, stumbling occasionally as I trotted along.

«‘ What can be the matter with Tuppy?” I heard
my mistress say to her companion. ‘“‘ Do you not
think, Emily, he goes lame ?”

“Ah,” thought I, “you see it, do you?” and I went
lamer than before.

“Yes, certainly,” replied Emily, “he is quite
lame.”

«Perhaps he has got a stone in his shoe,”’ said
my mistress; “hold the reins, Emily, for a moment,
if you please. I will get out and look.”

“Dear me,” thought I, “now she will discover
the cheat ;” and I trembled all over.

“Poor Tuppy! poor Tuppy!’’ said my mistress
patting me. “He trembles so, he must be hurt.”

Would you believe it? Her kindness, instead of
softening my heart and making me see my fault,
only hardened me the more. I felt quite to despise



38 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

her for being such an easy dupe. This feeling gave
me the courage to stand quite still, whilst my
mistress lifted up first one foot and then another.

_. © There is no stone in any one of his feet,” ex-
claimed my mistress in a perplexed tone of voice as
she stood by my side, “and there is no sign of any
stone having hurt him anywhere.”

“ Perhaps it was only the ground over which we
have just come that made him go lame,” suggested
Emily; “TI noticed it was very stony.”

“Well, it may be that,” replied my mistress;
“we will go on, and try a little way farther.”

And getting into the carriage, she touched me
very lightly with the whip, saying,

“Now, Tuppy dear, go on.”

And very, very slowly I went, limping more and
more and more at every step I took. —

“Oh, Emily, I cannot bear this,” I heard my
kind mistress say, in a tone of the sincerest pity.
“Tt makes me quite miserable to see the pain
the poor creature is in; we must give up our drive
for to-day and go home.” And checking me as she
spoke, she turned me round towards home.

Oh, how my heart beat with joy to think of my
successful cheat! “Ah, ah!” thought I, “it is all
very well for you to hold the reins, but I can teach



THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 39
you the way to go. I am master now for all time
coming, and I flatter myself you will never take
Tuppy again where he does not wish to go.”

But my joy was destined to be of short duration.
In my conceited delight at having so successfully
duped my mistress, I quite forgot that, to make my
trick successful, it was necessary that the decep-
tion should be carried on to the end, and no sooner
was I aware that I was going home, than I trotted
off as brisk as could be.

A hearty laugh from my mistress and her friend
awoke me from my dream of security ; I started as
I heard the words, “‘Would you have believed that
he could have feigned so skilfully?” and in another
moment I felt myself turned back on the road, to
Barstead, whilst the most: hearty whipping I had
ever received. from my mistress fell on my devoted
shoulders.

It was in vain for me to golame now. I limped
till I almost fell to'the ground; my mistress only
flogged the harder, until at length in despair I gave
up the struggle, and although in a thoroughly sulky
and obstinate humour, I consented to draw the
carriage up to Barstead.

Ah, who may tell what. bitter thoughts were
mine, as I stood waiting-for my mistress, tied as



40 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

usual to that horrid post. It was not only the
whipping I had received—that was bad enough, and_,
my shoulders ached again with the cuts—but to
have been discovered in my cheat, this was what
galled me to the quick, and for the moment I forgot
the fault in the shame of the discovery. In my
rage I looked eagerly round, hoping I might see my
tempter, and ease my own misery by venting my
il-humour on him who had given me the evil
counsel; I had better have looked nearer home, and
_ seen whowas the true author ofall my wretchedness.

But my fault was destined to meet with a still
sharper punishment. Not very long after this
excursion to Barstead my mistress was driving me
over a road which had just been repaired, and one
of the little flints happened to fix itself just under
my shoe, and on the softest point of my hoof. Oh,
the pain I felt, I shuddered all over ; I could hardly
put my foot to the ground, and limped along in the
greatest agony. ‘No, no,” said my mistress, whip-
ping me sharply; ‘‘no more of this nonsense; come,
make haste and go on.”

Alas and alas! for the lie which I had enacted!
How well I remembered how kindly my mistress
had pitied me before, how soothingly she had
caressed me, and how I had laughed at her for her



THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. Al

pains. Ah! now, instead of whipping me on,
increasing my wretchedness every moment, but for
my own fault she would have seen to me as before,
and in a moment my tormentor would have been
removed. The knowledge that I had brought it
all upon myself did not tend to mitigate the pain,
and though I tried to limp on as fast as possible,
yet I nearly fainted with the agony I was enduring.

At length my evident discomfort moved the
compassion of my kind-hearted mistress. “I do
really think Tuppy has got a stone in his foot to-
day,” she said ; “ at any rate I will look before I go
on any further.” Who may tell how thankful I
felt for a kindness so much greater than I deserved,
and as she got out of the chaise I held up my foot
that she might know at once where the stone was,
and see that this time at least I was not deceiving
her.

“Poor Tuppy, poor fellow !”’ exclaimed my mis-
tress, as she carefully drew out the stone from
beneath the shoe; “I do not wonder you limped,
it must have hurt you dreadfully ; but see, Tuppy,
what it is to deceive; no one believes you when you
really are hurt. Cunning people outwit them-
selves; I wish I could make you understand me,
Tuppy. Iam verysorryfor you,poor—poor Tuppy.”



42 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

Her kindness softened my heart; not all the pain
and the punishment could have made me repent
so deeply as my mistress’s kind words. Oh! how I
wished I could make her know all that was passing
in my mind, and I rubbed my head against her, and
looked up in her face, hoping she would see how truly
I thanked her ; for the moment my feelings towards
my mistress had made me forget my own sufferings,
but no sooner did I put my foot to the ground than
I was recalled to a recollection of my late agony.
It was in vain to attempt to trot, the slowest hobble
gave me such pain that I was obliged to stand quite
still to recover my breath. My dear mistress
seemed sincerely sorry; she turned towards home
immediately, driving me back as slowly and gently
as possible. On my arrival at home warm foment-
ations were instantly applied, but so great an
amount of inflammation had set in, that it was days
before I could hobbie about even in my field and
on the soft green grass, and not for weeks did I
quite get over the effects of my sad misadventure.

During the period of my illness I had plenty of
time for reflection, and for seeing not only how
foolish but how wrong my conduct.had been. “Ah,
Tuppy,’’ said my mistress one day when, as usual,
she had been tenderly inquiring after my wounded



THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 48

foot. ‘I hope this will be a lesson to you for life.
We have all got our cross, Tuppy. It lies in the
pathway of each one of us. We must take it up
and carry it, or we shall stumble over it and hurt
ourselves, and that is what you have done, Tuppy.”

“‘ How can you be so absurd, Annie, as to talk
in this way to a donkey ?” said my mistress’s com-
panion.

“‘'Tuppy understands me, I'am sure he does,”

was the reply; “look how sensibly he looks up in
my face, he can do almost everything but speak.”
. And though perhaps I did not understand every-
thing she said just in the sense which you would
apply to it, kind reader, yet I took in quite suffi-
cient to make me deeply regret the past, and
determine to try and amend in the future.



CHAPTER IV.

A Real Grievance —Richard and I declare War against each
other—A Struggle—I gain a Victory, and am conquered
in my turn—I change Masters, and enter a new Phase of
Existence.

THERE is no lot in life so perfectly happy but that
it is possible to find some cause of complaint, and
indeed it is too often the case that the fewer
grievances people have, the more you hear them
grumble. Now I have no doubt I had a great
many imaginary, but I had one real unmistakeable
source of unhappiness. Amongst the servants at
the hall, was a boy whom my master had origin-
ally taken on out of charity. He was a quick,
clever lad, but of a nasty, spiteful disposition,
though this he was clever enough to keep out of his
master’s sight. He delighted in teasing and cruelty,
and nothing seemed to make him happier than to
be able to render others miserable. Against myself
he had an especial spite, and endless were the tricks
with which he contrived to annoy me. Sometimes,
just when I was going to be harnessed to the



THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. A5

carriage he would place a piece of holly or
something equally prickly just under my tail,
and when of course I tried to kick the inconvenience
away, he would declare it was all vice on my part;
so I got the whipping he so richly deserved. Then
again, sometimes when I came home from a journey
ready to drop with thirst, the ill-natured little
fellow would hold the pail to my lips as handy as
possible, and then at the very moment when, eager
to drink, I was putting down my mouth for a
draught, he would suddenly tilt up the pail, making
the contents fly into my eyes and ears, or else
spilling the water on the stones around. ~

These, and a hundred similar injuries, which it
would be needless to detail, and which I am quite
sure it is better to forget, made me hate the very
sight of Richard ; and so little pains did I take to
conceal my feelings, that my mistress soon dis-
covered there was something wrong between us.
*T cannot think what it is, papa,” I one day over-
heard her say, “that makes Tuppy so dislike
Richard; I am quite sure he must ill-treat: him.”

What would not I have given at that moment
to have had the power of stating my grievances to
my kind mistress, but that could not be; I could
only sigh, wag my ears very slowly, and trust to

?



46 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKKY.

my mistress’s acuteness to find out how matters
stood for herself. One word then, and what months
of misery I might have been spared! But I dare
say it was all for the best; I have learned to value
blessings from the loss of them, and no doubt my
old age is happier from the sorrows and misfortunes
of my middle life.

If Richard could play off his spiteful tricks
almost under the eyes, so to speak, of my mistress,
it may be imagined the life he led me when the
family were away from home; then I was almost
entirely at his mercy, and he took care to improve
his opportunities to the utmost. Asa generalrule,
when my mistress was away, I was not allowed to
do any work whatever; but it occasionally happened
that a letter had to be sent in a hurry to the post,
or some commission executed in the neighbouring
town, and then, instead of walking, Richard would
be allowed to ride me. Ah! those rides, how I
dreaded them! what kicks, what blows, what
language! In those days I had never heard such
words before, and could hardly understand their
meaning. Is it to be wondered at that I rebelled
against such treatment, and did. my very utmost
to get rid of my tormentor?

I must confess however that, as a general rule,
my efforts were not crowned with the success that



THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 4

they deserved ; on one occasion, however, I was the
victor, but my victory cost me dear.

Richard had ridden me into the town for some-
thing that was wanted at the hall, and all the way
along it had been a struggle between us. I
obstinately determined not to go, he as obstinately
bent on making me; at length by dint of kicks and
blows, the misery of which became too great to be
endured, he succeeded in goading me on as far as
the markét-place of the town.

It happened to be market day, and the square was
quite full of country people who had come in to buy
and sell. Whether it was the desire of showing
off, or whether Richard’s temper had become more>
than usually irritated by my determined opposition
to his will, I do not know ; but here, in the presence
of all these people, he began to beat me violently
about the head, at the same time urging me into a
gallop. . Half blinded and stupified by the blows,
my only reply was to stand perfectly still. Richard
beat me more savagely than before; cries of
‘«‘ Shame, shame!” resounded from all sides. “I will
tell your master,” said one; “‘ You will lose your
place,” said another; while a third cried out,
“JT wish the beast would kick him off; it would
serve him right to have a roll in the mud, that it
would.”



48 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

I only needed this one word of encouragement
to put the plan which I had formed into execution.
Planting my two front feet firmly on the ground,
T kicked and kicked andkicked with such a thorough
hearty good-will, that at length my adversary,
losing his balance, flew over my head, and rolled
round and round upon the mud beneath me.
Shouts of laughter resounded from all sides; not
waiting to see what would become of Richard, I
instantly turned towards home, and galloped up
the street as fast as my legs would carry me, the
people not attempting to stop me, but rather urging
me to greater speed by cries of “Bravo! well done,
Neddy! go on, Neddy !”

Excited by these shouts, and by the triumph I
had just achieved, I redoubled my speed, my heart
beating with joyful pride at my late victory. Alas !
how little I knew the price I was to pay for it. If
T had had the sense to go straight home, all would
have been well; but when one has once tasted of
the pleasures of conquest, and listened to the
flattery of praise, one’s judgment is apt to be less -
clear, and no sooner had I reached such a distance
from the town as to render me comparatively safe,
than I slackened my speed, and began, with great

self-complacency, to think over the events of the



THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 49

morning, refreshing myself by constant nibbles at
the grass by the wayside. I was indulging in this
luxurious confidence, when I suddenly felt my rein
seized by a vigorous hand; and looking up I found
myself confronted by a powerful middle-aged man.

“So you are the runaway donkey, are you ?”’ he
said; “I was just on the look-out for you,” and I
saw that he glanced hastily up and down the road,
but not another creature was in sight.

“So! allis right,” he said; “come along, Neddy,
come along ;” and he hastily turned me off the high
road on to a path which led into a wood hard by.

It was all done so quickly that I had not a
moment to recover my self-possession, and I was
already far on in the path, before I had time to
consider who the man was, and what he could
possibly mean by taking me into this road, which I
had never seen before. My first sensation was one
of delight to think how completely I had outwitted
Richard, but this was quickly followed by the
dread, “ What if I had been outwitted myself?”
and I began to reproach myself bitterly with my
folly in not having resisted in the first instance
and. refused to allow myself to be led from the high
road.

“But better-late than never,” thought I, and

E



50 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

giving a vigorous pull at the rein, I tried to get away
from the man, determining to regain the road, and
never stop again till I had safely arrived at home.
Alas! I had now to discover how far easier it is to
take a step in the wrong direction, than to retr ace
it when made.

The man in an instant seemed to discern my
intention, and holding the rein tighter than: he had
done before, he gave me three or four tremendous
blows with a stick which he had in his hand;

exclaiming at the same time, “So you think to get

away from me, as you did from that boy, do you?
You will find yourself mistaken ; I will soon make
you know who is master now;’’ and he repeated the
cuts with greater violence than before.

The savage tone in which he spoke, and the pain
‘which I felt from the blows I had received, seemed
quite to stun me, and take away all power of
resistance; and in spite of myself I walked on by
his side, trembling in every limb, and holding my
tail tight between my legs in the vain hope that
this would protect me from his cruel blows. Ihave
often thought since that I acted like a coward,
and that, if I had plucked up my spirit, I might
have regained my liberty. But after all, I do not
‘know; in a struggle between men and beasts, I





TUPPY TAKEN PRISONER.—Page 50.






THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 51

‘suppose if a man chooses to exert his strength, he

can always get the mastery. We do not think
of this as long as we are in happy homes, and all
goes prosperously ; we forget that we are servants,
and that our master has a right to expect our
obedience in return for the food he gives us, and
the care which he bestows upon us. We are apt
to grow proud, and to think that our service is
entirely optional ; and that, if we do our duty well,
it is a great merit on our part, and calls for grati-
tude on that of our master; and then it is not till
we feel his strong hand upon us, conquering our _
wills, and doing with us according to his pleasure,
that we begin to understand that we are only
servants of a higher power than our own, and that
we should have been wiser to have submitted
patiently and done our duty cheerfully, than to
have struggled against an authority which, after all,
we are powerless to resist. I can think these
thoughts now that I am quietly at rest in my old
age, but my feelings were very different on the
day of my capture.

My new master having led me through the wood,
jumped upon my back, and by a repetition of the
cruel blows I so muchdreaded, urged me to gallop on
acrossan open common on which wehadnow entered.

EQ



52 | THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

Frightened as I was, I had sense sufficient to know
that it would be better for me to obey; but I did
so with a heavy heart, knowing well that every
step was taking me further and further away from
the home which I had never loved so well as now
that I had lost it. Still Imade what speed I could,
and having crossed the common, my master turned
me up a narrow lane, urging me on even faster
than before, till at length he turned off on to a
waste piece of land, the most dreary-looking place
T had ever seen in my life; pools of water here and
there, and the greund with scarcely a blade of
grass, and nothing but a few stunted furze bushes
scattered about. Here he pulled me up, and
getting off my back, he led me ona little distance,
then standing still, he whistled very loudly and
sharply. In a few minutes the call was answered
by @ man younger and not so powerful-looking as
himself.

‘‘ Where is the tent, Bill ?” was his first question.

« A little way down to the left yonder.”

«Then we must look alive and push on for it,
and dress up this donkey here before the,search is
out for him.”

«Why, where did you pick him up, Jem?” asked
his companion, as he proceeded to examine me ;



THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 58

«you have been in rare luck to-day, I never saw
a more likely beast. He has been in good quarters
too, I should say, from the look of his skin.”

“That he has,” returned my master. “He is
one of Squire Morton’s raising ; so you may be sure
he is the right sort. I have had my eye on him for
some time past, but they kept him so close I could
not get a chance before. However, we have not a
moment to lose. He isa pet of the family, so there
is sure to be a hue and cry; run on and get the
shears and some good strong pitch ready.”

My heart sank within me. I did not indeed un-
derstand the full meaning of the words, but I felt
sure from the man’s manner that mischief was in-
tended, and again I did my best to escape and
make my way home—but it would not do. I was
led on, in spite of myself, to the tent, and then the
cruel work began. Snip—snip—snip! I heard,
whilst a hard cold heavy substance ran all over
my body; and then came something hot and burn-
ing, which made me kick and jump with pain. But
it was in vain to struggle. My tormentors had me
in their power, and not till they had satisfied
themselves did they at length release me from
their grasp.

«There, Bill,” said my master, when at length



5A THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

“he had finished; ‘‘I think we have done it pretty
well. I do not believe even his own mother would
know him now. However, we wont risk it; let us
strike tents and be off. Here, give me the log,
that heaviest one, and we will put that on his leg.
He will not run far with that, I promise him.”

And in another moment I felt a tight cutting
pressure round my ankle, and giving me a cut, my
master told me to be off and eat my dinner, for I
should soon be wanted for work. Hat my dinner!
My only thought was to get away home, and once |
escaped from his hands, I was for galloping off
without a moment’s loss of time. Gallop! I could
hardly walk. . No sooner did I attempt to ‘move
than I heard a loud clanking noise, and felt a drag
as if my leg was broken. ‘Looking back in terror
and amazement, I perceived that an immense piece
of wood was fastened to my leg by a great iron
chain; I tried to shake it off, but my efforts
only made the chain cut me more painfully, whilst
I bruised my legs by knocking them against the
log. Broken-hearted and in despair I stood per-
fectly still, bewildered and not knowing what to do
next. At length an irresistible desire seized me to
see what my tormentors had done to me. I recol-
lected how proudly I had often surveyed myself in



THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 55

the stream.at home, and how I had admired my
shiny brown coat and the long hairs in my mane.
Slowly, very slowly, I dragged myself to the edge
of one of the pools. The water was very muddy
and did not perhaps reflect all my hideousness, but
T saw enough, alas! to make me start back in hor-
ror from myself. My mother not know me! why
I did not know myself! My beautiful coat all
clipped, and rough, and ragged, and covered with
great patches of black and dirt; and my mane—
that mane my dear mistress had so often praised—
oh! what would she have said to it now! Idrew
back from. the sight of myself, and groaned in-
wardly. ‘Ah!” thought I, “and has so short a
time been sufficient for so great a change? Is
this the beauty of which I was so fond? Fool

that I was to set such store upon the very thing
which has brought me to. all this misery, and
* -which is gone in an hour,” and laying down my
long ears, my heart felt well nigh broken. -

In the midst of all my sorrows I suddenly roused
up to the feeling of being very hungry. I had had
nothing since the morning, and was quite faint and
‘exhausted with my long gallop and all the agita-
tion and excitement of the day. Looking round |
me, therefore, I tried to find something that I



56 - THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

should like to eat; but there was nothing, actu-
ally nothing; for it was not to be supposed that a
donkey bred up as I had been would condescend to
make a meal of rank sedgy grass, or a few bits of
dried-up furze. Sorrow had not yet done its work.
My proud spirit was chafed and angry—not broken;
and I had still to learn that the meal I now despised
might one day be eaten with gratitude.

I was standing in the sullen gloom of despair,
when my master came up to me. “So, Neddy,”
he said, “you do not seem to be enjoying your
meal. You will know better, my fine fellow,some
day, than to be particular about trifles. You will
not be dainty long, I promise you. It will do you no
harm for once to work upon an empty stomach. It
will take down your spirit quicker than anything.”

And unclasping the log as he spoke, he swung
it over my back, and led me up to the tent, where
he proceeded to load me with ‘every imaginable ©
article. I might be frightened as tin jingled against
- tin by every movement of my body; I might try to
resist so heavy a load being placed upon my back ;
but it was all of no. good, the weight was fixed
upon my shoulders, and then I was driven off
with blows as before.

' We seemed to be a large party—one of my own



THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 57

family, but so old and ugly, and wretched-looking
that I turned from her in disgust, quite forgetting
my own forlorn look, and all the wise reflections I
had so lately made. This poor donkey carried
some children, and a number of things of which I
did not know the use; and a sort of van drawn by
an old horse, conveyed the tent and all that the
party might want beside. How long or where we
travelled, I’ cannot say. I only know that I was
faint and tired and weary, when at length we
came to a halt in a wooded dingle a little away
' from the road-side. It looked pretty enough in
the bright moonlight, but I was too wayworn to.
think of that; and when my load was removed
from my back, I laid down from sheer fatigue, and
shutting my eyes, tried to forget all my sorrows in
sleep.

Only this morning, and what a happy donkey I
had been. Ido not know well how to measure
time ; but itseemed to me as long since I had left
my home, as one of those dreary periods when my
mistress was away from it. I thought of all my
mother used to say to me about the changes of.
life, and how thankful I ought to be for the happy
lot that had been given to me, and how grateful
and desirous to value my blessings to the full; and



58 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

now when I had lost them all, I for the first time
felt their value, and knew how lightly I had prized
them.

All, did I say? Whilst I was thinking thus de-
spondingly of my misfortunes, I heard a kind voice
say to me, “Come, poor Neddy, here is something
for you to eat,” and looking up, I saw a little
child holding towards me a large handful of hay.
“Come, poor Neddy, good Neddy,” added the
child, as she patted me kindly. Then, after all, I
was not so utterly forsaken. Even in my utmost
distress, there was still something left to comfort
me, and as I gratefully munched up my hay, I felt
the first moment of happiness I had experienced
since my misfortune. How often have I found
since, that there is no trial which may not be made .
more or less hard to bear by our own conduct
under it—few states so bad, but that if we choose
we can make-them worse. Keep up a good heart,
and be grateful for every little comfort as it comes.
Thatis my advice. Jonly wish I could speak out,
and ‘let my masters know how much lies in their
power to make us, their poor servants, happy. If
they knew how grateful we feel for kindness, and
how much readier we are to go for a kind word -
than a hard blow, who knows but that perhaps



THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 59

they would learn to treat us better if only for their
own sakes.

Any way, I felt happier as I lay down that
night to rest, and it was a child’s act and a child’s
words which had made me so.



CHAPTER V.

I travel to all Parts of England, and make acquaintance with
every Variety of People—At length I come to London—
Regent-street in mid-day—A Recognition—I make my
first Appearance in a Police Court, and prove myself a
valuable Witness—I take up my Abode in the ‘Green
Yard.”

I was roused very early the next morning from th,
- enjoyment of my quiet sleep by a sharp kick in the
side ; jumping up as fast as possible, I saw my mas-
ter standing by me ready dressed; putting the
bridle over my head he led me away to where the
rest of the party were sitting having their break-
fast. . They did not offer anything, however, to me,
and I was obliged to content myself with a few
bites of grass from the road-side. To judge from
the eager talking that went on, some very important
matter was being decided. Ina few moments my
master, throwing some light articles for sale over
my shoulders, jumped himself upon my back, and
saying good-bye to his companions, set me off at a
good sharp trot. Wehad not gone very far, when
my master suddenly pulled me up, and seemed



THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 61

hesitating whether he should turn me round or
not. Iwas wondering what we were to do next,
when I saw aman coming towards me, whom I re-
cognised 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.

*Halloo!” 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 stupified 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



62 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

me on to the extent of my powers in the opposite
direction. How grieved I felt then, low angry
with the man for his stupidity in not recognising
me and taking me home; I was yet to learn what
an important influence over my future dosviny 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
hawker, who went through the country, now selling
one kind of goods, now another, as the case might
be, just to suit the various tastes of the different
communities in the neighbourhood of which we
found ourselves. When first I was in his posses-
sion, 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 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 63

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, healthful-looking
faces; but such grim, dirty men—such wretched-
looking women, and miserable children. It was
quite sad to look at them, as I stopped 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’ sweet voice; how different
to those quiet drives in the green lanes of my native
county. Ah! now that it was too late, how bit-
terly 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 onewillinsist 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



64 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

value it else. We never do value anything that we
get cheap. I often used to hear my master say
that. ‘Put on agood 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 she was a good-hearted woman, was my
new mistress.

** 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 Ido? I could only turn my head round,
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 that 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



THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 65

some of its saddest and most miserable forms.. Oh,
what places we went into! My stableat 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 mea feed of corn 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
merry-makings. 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. Nosooner hadI 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 unharnessed from the shafts, a
. Saddle placed upon my back, and then I was let
out by the hour, to as many mischievous urchins

F



66 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

as chose to take their full pennyworth of pleasure,
by the kicking and beating which seem to con-
stitute 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 hand-
some 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 some-
times, in despair, I turned sulky, and refused to
go at all—why, 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 sup-
pose, of increasing hisearnings. My coat had by
this time recovered from the ill-treatment it had re-
ceived, and by dint of a good dressing, could be made



THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 67

to acquire something of its original gloss ; and as I
now occasionally gota feed of corn, 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 recognise me. In all
my troubles, 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, ag
I thought *‘ How is it possible that she should re-
member me? There is nota trace of her Tuppy left
in this ragged, dirty, jaded ass,” 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 reco-

F 2



68 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY,

vering something of my former appearance, my
spirits rose, and 1 became more than ever eager for
the meeting with my mistress, but it never seemed
to come. I would stand in the marketplace of a
town, and hundreds and hundreds of people passed
by me, and I looked up wistfully in their faces, but
they were nothing to me, nor I to them. I would
visit quiet country-houses, and I hope and think :
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—lI cannot tell you how long it >
was, I have no means of reckoning—but at length
our journeyings seemed to take a different direction
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 any-
thing 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 shoving, pushing. I could hardly get along



THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 69

for terror and surprise, and at every moment I ex-
pected 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, why 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 uncon-
cernedly as I should have wandered across a soli-
tary 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 to the wretched monotony of my present
existence, 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; whilst 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 decay-



70 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

ing cabbage leaves, and quench my thirst with a
drink of half putrid water.
. And then the work—it was incessant. At ear-
liest break of morning I was harnessed to the car-
riage 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 downhearted,
I might often have been amused by the bustling
scenearound me. Itwasa 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
greens. How I looked and longed that some kind
hand would give me just one taste. Butno; I
must stand hour after hour in the midst of all this



THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. vi

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 few less grains of corn
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 a while of this sharpener to their appe-—
tites.

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 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



72 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

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 mis-
tress ; 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 me-
tropolis, 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 success-
ful 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 public house near to take a
glass to keep out the cold, and to drink to their
mata 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



THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 7a

nor the cart tillI come back again. Do you hear,
Pome”

“Yes, I hear,” was the somewhat sulky reply, ~
and drawing me up close to the kerb-stone, where
I should be as much as possible out of the way, my
master, saying he should not be long gone, 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, Tuppy, Tuppy! dear Tuppy ! 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 en-
deavouring to show by every means in my power
my unbounded joy at again beholding my beloved
mistress.

“Oh, look, papa, papa!” exclaimed my mistress,



74 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

“‘Tuppy knows me! Tuppy remembers me! Good
Tuppy! Dear, dear old Tuppy ?”

In her delight at seeing me, my mistress had, like
myself, forgotten thatRegent-stracts in the middle of
the day is rather a public place to give way to out-
bursts of affection. Already a crowd had gathered
round us, some wondering, some laughing, ladiesand
gentlemen standing byin silent curiosity to see what
would be the end of this strange greeting ; cabmen
drawing up to enjoy the fun, omnibus coachmen
and conductors lingering on their way, and looking
back to watch what all the confusion was about, as
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 recognise ;
and looking up, I saw a fine, tall, handsome-looking
man, who drew my mistress’ hand away from me,
and placed it on his own arm.

“Papa, dear, will you see Tuppy?” said my
mistress, looking round, evidently frightened and
bewildered by the confusion around her, and en-
deavouring to make her way through the crowd
of bystanders.



+ THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 75

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
shoved more vehemently than before.

Louder and louder rose the peals of laughter ;
higher and higher swelled the cheers; and think-
ing I was doing the most appropriate thing possi-
ble, 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.

‘ Holloa!?? he exclaimed with a coarse oath,
‘what is all this row about P 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 now actively employed in keeping



76 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

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 or invent; 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-court
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 round in trembling dread, that now,
being once more at the mercy of my brutal master,
I should be made to suffer some horrible punish-
ment for having thus given way to my delight at
seeing my long-lost friend. But I soon found that,



THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 77

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-courts of the metropolis.
Here my master disappeared from my view, whilst
Tremained 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 held 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,
towards a doorway, so blocked up by people that
I felt quite frightened, and refused to go on.

“Come, Neddy, come along,” said the policeman



78 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

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 persons walkin the streets of London. I
had never been in such an odd place before, and I
did not half like it, and was more then once inclined
to turn back; but the man kept a firm though
~ 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, turn-



THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 79

ing 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 won-
der I did not recognise 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 ;
whilst many a voice exclaimed—* He has had the
donkey, that is clear enongh, 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 | 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.

“Tuppy ! dear Tuppy !” she said, just in the way
that she used to call me up to the railings years



80° THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

ago. Oh, I forgot all my past misery, and think-
ing 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 P
I could only express my joy with the voice which
nature had given me. Ifit 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 policeman
who held me, I went right up to my mistress, and,
rubbing my nose against her hand, I whinnied out
my happiness, intreating 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 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 81

the grave man say in tones of such kindness as
showed his mterest in my fate,

“Tam quite satisfied, Madam ; no witnesses that
could be produced could speak half so strongly to °
the truth of your case as does the affectionate re-
membrance 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 provided 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.”

“T 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



82 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

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.

Ido 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, Tuppy,” 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 des-
tined 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, Tuppy; there is a good
Tuppy! I will come to see you very soon; good-
bye, Tuppy!” and patting me kindly, before I had
time to look round even, she was gone.



THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 83

A crowd, little short of that which had accom-
panied 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 towards me had already impressed
me greatly in his favour. I gleaned too from what
T 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 towards 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 recognised 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 re-
fused, as I then thought, to rescue me from my
G2



84 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

dreaded slavery. Who knew but that now he
might come forward, and, recognising 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 1 was com-
fortable enough in my present abode, and had
plenty to eat and drink; but I had been so ac-
customed 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 hadall 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 shut-
ting 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 VI.

The Trial comes to an end—An old Friend visits my Stable
I take my first’ Railway. Excursion and find myself in
well-remembered Scenes— Home again—Conclusion.

As days passed on, and still I neither saw nor
heard anything of my dear mistress, my heart mis-
gave me. Was it possible, after all, that she had
forsaken me? Would she give me back into the
power of that dreadful man? Oh! how I wished
that I had not suffered myself to be led out of the
court; that I had stayed by her side, and never
lost sight of her until I was once more in the plea-
sant green fields of my. early home. It was in
‘vain to regret the past. I might fume and fret, it
would make no difference to the tiresome present.
If I could but have released myself from the bridle
that bound me to my stall, I would have made my
escape from the stable, and never rested, I thought,
until I had once again found my mistress. Hap-
pily for me, I was not permitted to accomplish my
object, or who knows but my second flight might



86 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

have been attended with quite as disastrous conse-
quences as my first; but all that I got by my
efforts to escape, was to draw upon myself the
attention of my guardians, and make them secure
me more carefully than before. I hated them,
then—foolish donkey that I was; but I have owed
them such a debt of gratitude ever since, that
- nothing pains me more than to hear a word said
against the police. Let every one speak as they
find; I say, they are a fine, brave body of men,
- who have a very difficult duty to perform, and do -
it faithfully and well. |

But to come back to myself. I was standing
musing, I am afraid, in a very discontented state of
mind, when I heard the door of the stable open.
Thinking, however, it was only one of the men
come to attend to their work, I did not even trouble
myself to turn my head, until suddenly I felt a
hand laid on my shoulder, and heard a voice, I
thought I remembered, say, sadly enough—

“Why, Neddy! who would have thought that
you and I should have met again in such a place
as this; and you so altered? Poor old Neddy! how
badly you have been used!””

Old Neddy, indeed! My heart swelled with such
mortified vanity at the name, that for the moment—





TUPPY MUSING.—Page 86.







Full Text



The Baldwin Library

University | |)
RB vi
Florida











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ed








TUPPY AND HIS MOTHER.— Page 2,
“TUPPY:

on,

THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

BY TUE AUTHOR OF

“THE TRIUMPHS OF STEAM,” “OUR EASTERN EMPIRE,”
: “MIGHT NOT RIGHT,” ETC.

SECOND EDITION.

WITH FOUR ILLUSTRATIONS
By Warrison UHetr.

LONDON :

GRIFFITH AND FARRAN
(SUCCESSORS TO NEWBERY & HARRIS),
CORNER OF ST. PAUL’S CHURCHYARD.
MDCCCLXI.
LONDON:
PRINTED BY WERTHEIMER AND CO.,
CIRCUS PLACE, FINSBURY CIRCUS.
CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.

My earliest Recollections—I find my Mother rather a dull Companion
—I make Friends with Old Thomas—The return of my Master’s
Family—My First Interview with my dear Mistress—Annie and I

become great Friends . . - +. . pp. 116
CHAPTER II.

My Mistress leaves Home—On her Return I do not know her—My

First Lesson, and who was the Best Master. . . . . 17—29

CHAPTER III.

I learn to draw my Mistress’s Carriage—I see the World, and listen
to Evil Counsel—A Trick, and what came of it—tI find that, after
all, Honesty is the best Policy . . . 2... 1. 80—43

CHAPTER IV.

A Real Grievance—Richard and I declare War against each other—A
Struggle—I gain a Victory, and am conquered in my turn—I
change Masters, and enter a new Phase of Existence . 44—59

CHAPTER V.

I travel into all Parts of England, and make acquaintance with every
Variety of People—At length I come to London—Regent-street
in mid-day—A Recognition—I make my first Appearance in a
Police Court, and prove myself a Valuable Witness—I take up
my Abode inthe “Green Yard.” . . . . . . . . 60—84

CHAPTER VI.

The Trial comes to an end—An old Friend visits my Stable—I take
my first Railway Excursion, and find myself in well-remembered
Scenes—Home again—Conclusion . . . . . . . 85—100
THE idea of this little story, the main incident
of which is strictly true, was suggested by read-
ing a curious trial published in the Tzmes about

three years ago.

Lonpon, 1859.
i

TUPPY:

THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

CHAPTER I.

My earliest Recollections —I find my Mother rather a dull

‘ Companion—I make friends with Old Thomas—The Return.

of my Master’s Family—My First Interview with my dear
Mistress—Annie and I become great Friends.

Tue Story of an Ass, and written by Himself! !
Ah! good reader, have patience with me. It is
not the first time that such an indiscretion has
been committed, and doubtless it will not be the
last. And, indeed, if I did not think I had some-
thing pleasant to relate I would not trespass upon
your patience; but now, as in my old ageI quietly

_ graze through the summer days in my pleasant

green field, or keep myself warm in my comfort-
able winter shed, I often think over my past
career, and it seems to me to have been so full of

strange events, that I am induced to jot down

B
2 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

some few of its most stirring incidents, in the hope
that whilst my faults may be a warning to some,
the blessing that has attended my earnest desire to
do my duty may be a comfort and encouragement
to all.

~ My first recollection of life is finding myself
lying quietly down by my mother’s side on the
soft, green grass of a large field. Very pleasant
it looked to me, as [ lay there under the shadow
of a great oak tree, and looked out upon the sun-
shiny landscape, and I thought I should never be
tired of lying there quite still, and admiring all the
wonderfully beautiful objects which met my eyes
wherever they turned.

‘But as soon as I began to be a little stronger,
this state of inaction became tiresome; my curiosity
was aroused to see what there might be beyond
my own little world, and many a frisk I took away
from my mother’s side, to peep over a hedge into |
another field, and amuse myself by looking at some
animals very different to ourselves, which my
mother said were cows; but I did not admire their
shape so much as our own, and as to their horns,
I did not think them half so pretty as our ears.
‘Then, when I had looked at the cows till I was
tired, off I. would gambol-to where some iron rails
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 3

separated our field from a long, sloping lawn,
bright with beds of many-coloured flowers. Hvery
day I seemed to spy out something more beautiful
than before, and I would gallop back to my
mother, and ask her to come and look too, and tell
me what was the name of this or that wonderful
new thing.

But my mother was not of so adventurous a
spirit as I was, or possibly she was getting old,
and did not like to be troubled with all my endless
questions; she was very ready to tell me what little
she knew, but she was not the least ‘desirous of
increasing her stock of knowledge. ‘Ah! my
son,” she would say sometimes, as she gave her
ears a melancholy shake, ‘‘ I foresee there is a great
deal of unhappiness in store for you. Why must
you always be spying about into that which does not
concern you; why are you not content to stay quietly
by your mother’s side? When you are my age
you will know the wisdom of just simply enjoying
your tuft of grass or draught of water without
troubling your head as to what the rest of the
world are doing.”

“Very likely,” I replied, with a kick of
disdain, for I was a pert young donkey from my
earliest years ; “‘ but as I am not so old as you are

B2
A THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY,

by a long way, you need not expect that I should
consider munching up grass from morning to night
is the perfection of earthly happiness. I want to
‘know what life is and what goes on beyond this
field. I declare I get sick to death of hearing you
munch, munch, munch, as if you had nota thought
beyond your nose.”

** Ah! my son,” said my mother, sadly, “ you will
know what lifeis soon enough, never fear, and what
work is, and poor fare, and hard blows; and then,
when your back aches and your sides are sore, you
will remember your mother’s words, and think that
if you could but get back again into this pleasant
field, you would trouble yourself very little with
what is going on in the outer world.”

For a moment I was silent. Work,—poor fare,—
and hard blows were not pleasant-sounding words.
I had never heard them before, and I began to
wonder what they meant; but my mind was
suddenly distracted by a sound behind the hedge,
cand off I scampered to see what it might be, and
by the time I came back again to my mother’s side,
I had forgotten the expressions that had alarmed
me, and was as full of tricks and gambols as I had
been before.

But though my mother was not fond of conver-
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. By

sation, yet I gathered from words which she would
occasionally let fall, sufficient to make me under-
stand that we were the servants of a gentleman of
good property, that my mother’s business was to
draw his wife out in a little carriage, she being
in delicate health; and when I asked why I had
never seen her doing this, she told me the family
had all been away for some time, but that she
should be glad when they came home again, for they
were all very kind to her, and often brought her
some nice things, such as a carrot, or some cabbage
leaves, or occasionally even a small feed ‘of corn.

‘The idea of these dainties made my mouth
water, and I began to be as impatient as my
mother for the return of my master’s family,
hoping that I, too, might come in for a share in her
good fortune. So anxious was I to know when
they were coming, that at length my incessant
teasing became unbearable to my mother, and she
angrily told me “‘to go and ask that old man on
the lawn there, for he was the only person the
least likely to be able to gratify my curiosity.”

It was very easy to say “Ask,” but how was I to
make him understand what I wanted to know ?
Not but that we were very good friends. I had
made his acquaintance some time ago, during one
6 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

of my visits to the iron railings which shut me out.
from my favourite flower-garden. At first, when he
had come near me, I had felt very much frightened,
and had scampered away as hard as I could, but.
he called out so ‘pleasantly, “‘Wo—so ho, little
Neddy!” that though I did not know that was my
name, yet I was sure he meant me, and so I sum-
moned up courage to turn round and look him in
the face, and a very kind face it was, and he held
out his hand so coaxingly, that I was induced to
come a few steps forward, but then my heart mis-
gave me, and I took two bounds back.
- © Whoo—little Neddy—whoo,”’ said the kind
voice again, “sure. Thomas will not hurt you.
Come my little man, come and be scratched.”

‘ Such an invitation was irresistible. Again I
turned, walking a few steps towards my new ac-
quaintance, then I stopped. ‘Come, come,” said
the voice again, and I made a few steps more in
advance. Again I heard. myself encouraged, and
now I had approached near enough by stretching
out my neck to smell whether there was any mis-
chief in the hand that was stretched out towards
me. No, all seemed safe, and the hand was held
steady till I had been able to sniff all round it, and
satisfy myself that no harm was intended me; then
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. a

the hand was gently raised to my head, and the
pleasantest sensation I had ever felt in my life was
transferred to my whole body. Oh, how soothing;
how delightful was that rubbing and scratching,
and I browsed against my new friend, and looked
up. in his face, as marel as to say, “Oh! do it
again, please do it again.”

“What, you like it, little Neddy, you like it, ae
you,” said the kind voice; “ah! I ee we
should soon be friends.”*

: Friends, I should think we were; Sai that day.
forth I was always on the look-out for Old Thomas,
and no sooner did I see him come on to the lawn:
than I would gallop up to the iron railings, kick
up my -heels, and bray out my welcome in my:
loudest voice, though by the way I soon began to
perceive that this was not the most pleasing style
of address to my friend. “There, Neddy, there,”*
he would say, ‘‘that is quite enough of that noise;
be silent, do.” At first, I must confess, my vanity
was. so much hurt, I felt mclined to turn my back
and take no further notice of my friend, but: I was
goon sensible that I should be the greatest loser
by such folly, and so wisely endeavouring to alter,
my mode of salutation, I rubbed my nose against
the iron railings, and made the softest and most
8 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY,

whinnying tones of which my voice was capable.
It had the desired effect. Old Thomas evidently
saw, that I had got the better of my little tempers,
and was trying my best to be pleasant, and so he
would put down his rake or his hoe, or leave the |
flowers he was tying up, and bring me a few car-
rots, or an apple or two, or something equally good,
and as he was feeding me, he would say kindly—

“Ah! little Neddy, you are a good-hearted little
beast, full of spirits, but not a bit of vice about
you, and you will be a rare beauty one of these
days, that you will. How my young missus will _
admire you!”

And then I would rub myself against his hand
and look up in his face, as much as to say, “‘ Who
1g your young missus? Tell me.”

And so by degrees, as I say, we had grown
very intimate, and I could understand almost every-
thing Thomas said to me, but I was grieved to
find he did not comprehend my meaning so easily,
so that it was very difficult to get an answer to
what I wished to ask him. Sometimes he would say,
** Why, Neddy, you have got such intelligent eyes,
you look a’most as if you could speak. I wonder
what you have got to say to me. Is it more
carrots you want, ay, Neddy?”’ and he would hold
a

THR AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 9

out a carrot so close to my mouth that though
that was not what I wanted at all, yet for the life
of me I could not resist the temptation of eating it
up; and so Thomas misunderstood my meaning,and
went away, thinking perhaps what a greedy little
donkey I was, whilst all the time I was only seek-
ing for instruction and information. Ah! well;
I have listened since then to what many a man has
said of his neighbour or his friend, and I have come
to the conclusion, it is not only animals whose
earnest longings after truth must remain ungrati-
_ fied, and whose best actions are liable to be mis-
interpreted. If man cannot understand his fellow-
men, no wonder he knows very little of what dumb
brutes are thinking about.

Well, then, that day, when my mother got angry
with me for teasing her, and told me to be off and
ask Old Thomas, I felt piqued and angry. ‘Who
knows,” thought I, “but that Ican make him tell
me, and then there will be a triumph, for mother
only sends me to him because she is cross, and
because she thinks I shall never be able to find
out ;” so, putting on my most pleasing manners, for
we can all seem to be very good-humoured when
we have got any end to gain by it, however cross
we may feel inside all the while, I galloped up to
10 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.’

the iron railings, and began whinnying in my
most engaging tones. It was not long before I
attracted the notice of Thomas, who, looking up
from his work, said, in his usual kind tone,
. “Ah, little Neddy, you are come, are you? I
have nothing for you to-day.”

| Now though I quite understoodthis disappointing
announcement, yet I was not one bit more inclined.
to go away. I had come for a particular purpose,
and I was determined to accomplish it, if possible.
Our race have the character of being obstinate, and.
though I like to dignify it by the name of perse-
verance, yet I suppose Iam no better than the rest
of my species. Any way,I began a series of gambols,
such as generally succeeded in bringing old Thomas
to my side. But in vain. I kicked my best kicks,
gambolled round in circles, pricked up my ears, and
even tried a short, very short bray. It was all to
no purpose, Thomas went steadily on with his
work, paying no attention to all my antics. At
length, sick’ of an exhibition which attracted no
admirers, I wag on the point of returning, very
much out of humour, to my mother’s side, when:
suddenly I saw Thomas leave off work for an
instant, and resting on his spade, he looked
towards me. This was encouragement enough,
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 11

and again drawing near the rails, I began rubbing:
my nose against them. more wistfully than before.
“Poor little Neddy,”’ he said, as he walked
slowly up to me, ‘you will soon have a better
playfellow than I am.”

_I pricked up my ears at the words. “ Ah!”
thought I, “‘now it is coming.”

. © You see, I have no time to waste with you.
to-day, Neddy,” continued Thomas, ‘I have got
to get the place to rights. The master’s coming
home; can you understand that, Neddy ?”

Understand it, of course I could, and Lrubbed my
head against Thomas’s hand to ask him to go on.

- «© And when he comes, he must not see so much
as a leaf out of its place,” said Thomas; “no bits
of carrots left by the rails, my little donkey. But
it is not long you will be left without a bite of
summat, I guess. When Miss Annie sees you,
I am very much mistaken if she does not give you
more than ever Old Thomas did. You will forget
your old friend then, maybe, Neddy. ae’

Now somehow, though his voice sounded sor-
rowful as he- said these words, I was so overjoyed’
at having made the discovery that the family were.
returning, that I paid no heed to Thomas’s grief,
my only thought was to get back to my mother,:
12 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

and tell her the news as fast as possible. So break-
ing from the kind hand that was stroking me,
I turned hastily away.

“ Ah! itis just like ’em all,” I heard old Thomas
say; ‘‘men and beasts, they be much alike; they
will come fast enough if they think you have got
anything for them, and then, when they have got
all they can, off they go, like a shot, without so
much as a ‘ Thankye.’ ”

I hardly noticed the words then. I was very-
young, very conceited, and very much spoiled ; but’
I have often thought of them since, when I have
known what it was to have my own heart well nigh
broken by the unkindness of others. Ah me!
it is all very well for us old folks to preach. The
young ones will never pay a whit more heed to
any thing we may say than we did to our fathers.
Every one must buy his experience for himself.
' Happy he who pays least dearly for it.

It was a day or two after my last conversation
with Thomas that, as I was frisking about the
field, feeling in more than usually high spirits, I
suddenly heard a voice exclaim, “ Oh! look, look,’
Papa—did you ever see such a little darling ?”

My natural self-sufficiency leading me instantly
to suppose that this term could apply to no other
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY, 138

than myself, I turned immediately in the direction
of the speaker, and for a moment stood astonished
as I saw a beautiful little girl running towards me,
Whether it was that she came so fast towards me.
or whether it was that she was so unlike Thomas
or any thing I had ever seen before, I cannot say ;
but a panic seized me, and without waiting to give
a second look, I galloped off, and never stopped till
I found myself safely ensconced on the further side
of my mother. Then I took courage to look up,
and saw that my pursuer had also given up the
chase. :

Finding this was the case, and emboldened also
by seeing that my mother showed no sign of alarm,
I peeped out again, and then went a few steps in
advance. .

“Gently Annie, gently my love,” I heard the
elder person say; “do not frighten the little thing.
Let us find it something to eat, it will come
then.”

“Oh, yes, papa; Thomas says it comes up every
day to be fed. I will run and fetch some carrots,
may I?”

The permission being given, off ran the little
girl, and by the time she had returned, I had suffi--
ciently mastered my emotion to approach with a
14 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

tolerable degree of self-possession. Still it was not
without considerable alarm that I saw Annie come
inside the fence, and walk up to where I was stand-
ing ; and I confess I should have been glad to have
had the railings as a protection between us. I dare
‘say you think this was very silly, and so it was;
but can you never remember, kind reader, the time
when your faults or your follies made you wish to
keep the railings between your best friend and
yourself? However, this was the last time that I
ever committed such a mistake with Annie.

From that day forward we became the best of
friends. I never was so happy as when I was
-with her, and few days passed that she did not pay
me two or three visits—sometimes she would coax
me back with’ her to the house, and even take
me with her into one of the sitting rooms.

But I did not like those visits, and always
escaped from them when I could. It was quite
contrary to my nature to behave with the degree
of quiet propriety which was necessary in society.
My mistress schooled and taught me to the best of
her ability, and I did what I could to follow her
instructions; but I am afraid I was not at all an
apt scholar. Inever felt at my ease in a room
fitted up with all sorts of strange, queer-looking
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 15

things, of which I did not understand the use, and
which I always dreaded I should knock down and
destroy, and so get into disgrace ; and I took pains
to show her I only came into the house to obey
her, and not from any wish of my own. I think
she understood me, for she would often say, in her
land caressing way,

“Oh! Tuppy, you like being out in the fields,
frisking about, better than coming intothe drawing-
room, I can see that plainly enough; but, Tuppy,
you must remember, you must learn to behave like
a well-bred little donkey, for if you spend all your
life frisking about on the grass, you will grow up
so ignorant that I shall be quite ashamed of you,
Tuppy; and, after all, you are much better off
than I am—I sit for hours, and hours, and hours,
quite still, learning my lessons,and you—you stupid
little thing, you are tired if you stand still for five
minutes together. Ah! Tuppy, you have a great
deal to learn before your education is finished.”

And so I had, though I did not know it then;
and like a thoughtless little creature as I was, I
did not trouble my head about what was to take
place in the future—perfectly content to go gam-
bolling about in the enjoyment of the happy
present.
16 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY,

Those were pleasant times, and my memory likes
to go back to them. It is astonishing how fond
the old are of recalling the enjoyments of their
young days, and perhaps they are a little apt to
forget that what is so very pleasant to themselves
is rather tedious to others; and so I shall keep the
remembrance of the first three happy years of my
life for my own consolation, and pass rapidly on
to the more stirring period of my existence,
CHAPTER II.

My Mistress leaves Home—On her Return I donot know her
—My First Lesson, and who was the Best Master.

My master’s family had been away from home for
a long, long, time—so long, that I had almost given
up all hopes of seeing them again, and was getting
very impatient; besides, my life in the field was
very dull. My mother had left it some time ago,
and I never heard anything of her now. -Not that
T regretted that very much. She had long since
ceased to think about me, and had centred all her
affection upon a younger child. Still, as long as
she was in the field, she was some sort of com-
panion for me, and I was now growing to an age
to be impatient of solitude, and to wish for more
stirring occupation than wandering round. and
round the meadow by myself, and having nothing
to do but to eat and to drink. Occasionally, indeed,
I still saw Old Thomas; but our intercourse was
not so frequent as it used to be, and indeed was
of quite a different kind. I no longer felt it con-
0
18 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

sistent with my dignity to frisk and gambol about ;
and even when kindnesses were offeredto me I could,
when I pleased, assume an air of such perfect indif-
ference, that I think if my mistress could have
seen me she would have acknowledged I was
_ rapidly acquiring that manner of society about
which she was always instructing me. In fact, my
perfect self-possession and entire indifference to
the feelings or comforts of any one but myself,
would not have disgraced the most well-bred
exquisite in the land.

Matters were in this state, when one day, as I
was standing all alone under the oak tree, thinking
over my own perfections, and how unworthy my
position was of my deserts, I suddenly heard a
well-remembered voice call ‘“ Tuppy—Tuppy !”
Turning quickly round, I was on the point of going
to meet the speaker, when instead of the little girl I
knew as my mistress, I beheld a tall, elegant-look-
ing lady coming towards me; so putting on my
most dignified air, I stayed quietly under the great
tree, lazily moving my ears, as much as to say—
‘“HereamI; if you want me, you must come to me.”
' “What, Tuppy, do you not remember me?
Have you forgotten your mistress P Oh, Tuppy,you
ungrateful donkey |”
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 19

She spoke so kindly and yet so sorrowfully, that
I felt pained to the heart, not only at my stupidity
in forgetting her, but at my folly in having tried
to play off my grand airs before her, Still, I did
not like to acknowledge myself to have been in the
wrong, and so instead of doing what my heart
dictated, and galloping instantly to meet her, I
contented myself with coming a few steps forward,
and then standing perfectly still. I was properly
punished for my pride when I heard my mistress
say, as she turned to her father, who had just
joined her,

“Oh, papa, would you believe it? Tuppy has

‘quite forgotten me; I have always heard donkeys
are stupid and incapable of feeling attachment, but
I thought Tuppy would be an exception; oh,
papa, I am so sorry.”

“Tuppy, Tuppy!”’ she added, as she held out
her hand; ‘you do not know how you have grieved
me.”

To hear myself so kindly spoken to, when I had
deserved such different treatment, completely broke
down my obstinate pride,and trotting up to my mis-
tress as fast as I could, I began to rub my head
against her hand, and to whinny out my sorrow
for my past misconduct, and my promises of

C2
20 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

amendment for the future—excuses which my
kind mistress was only too ready to receive; and
in a few- minutes our reconciliation was complete,
and I felt happier than I had done for months
past.

“Poor Tuppy,” said my kind mistress, as she
continued to caress me; “I ought to have remem-
bered that. I am as much changed as you are
yourself. Is he not altered, papa? He is not
nearly so pretty as he was when he was little ; but
-he is a very handsome donkey still—do you not
think so, papa ?” -

Could there be a doubt upon such a subject ?
Why, the very idea put me into an ill-humour ; so
entirely had I brought myself to believe that I was
one of the most beautiful creatures in the world.
Often and often had I stood forthe hour together
in the clear water of the brook which ran at the
bottom of the field, and as I saw my image reflected
in the water, I was never tired of admiring my
long soft ears, the bright brown of my coat, or the
deep black cross marked out so clearly on my
shoulder. Ah! well, when we live very much
alone, we are apt to get very false impressions.
It is only by mixing with our fellows that we
learn to estimate our merits aright; pushing

>
‘THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 21'

through the world rubs off the sharp angles
ayondenfully:

I was so ingrossed with my own thoughts of
mortified vanity, that I did not hear what passed
between Mr. Morton and his daughter, till suddenly
my ears caught the sound,

‘Thomas shall break him in, my love—and then
you shall drive him in the little chaise.”

“Oh! I shall like that,” replied my nistebae ;
“can it be done at once, papa! p”

“Yes, directly Thomas is at leisure.” oe

“Then good-bye, Tuppy, for to-day,” continued
‘my mistress, as she again patted my forehead; “‘we
shall soon be better acquainted. I wonder whether’
‘you will like drawing me in the carriage as well as
playing with me in the field. Ah, Tuppy, will
you be a good little donkey, and trot ‘along as
fast as I know you can trot when you like it?” :

I rubbed my head against her by way of reply,
and then, when she left me, began to muse not over
pleasantly on the words she had just spoken. I
had no very clear idea, certainly, of what they
meant, but they conveyed a sort of shadowy notion
to my mind that my days of liberty were over, and
that now J was to be put to some such work as I
-had often seen. my mother dog. I used to re-
92 . HE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

‘monstrate with her then, on allowing herself to be
so tamely yoked to the chaise, drawing it about in
all weathers, and tiring herself to death dragging
it up steep hills and over stony roads—and when
she would gravely shake her head, and say with a
gentle sigh, ‘It was her destiny ;' it was better to
yield to it with a good heart and do her duty
cheerfully, than to resist and be beaten,”’ I used
+o jeer at her for a meek-spirited creature, who had
not pluck enough to stand up in her own defence,
‘and tell her when my turn came she would see a
very different state of affairs.

“My son,’ my mother would reply, “if you
think you have come into the world merely to
amuse yourself, you make a very great mistake ;
we all have our allotted tasks. They must be
done. Happy those who can find pleasure in the
doing of them. Take my advice; you are placed
here to be the servant of those much stronger and
wiser than yourself. If you resist their will, you
will smart for it with kicks and blows. If you try
to do your duty faithfully, you will find it will
bring its own reward.”

My mother seldom made so long a speech, and
finding I paid but little attention, she did not
again trouble me with her advice; and indeed I
‘THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 23

soon forgot her words till they were brought back
to my recollection by those of my young mistress,
and a very uncomfortable feeling they gave me.

The following day I was busy eating my break-
fast, when I saw Thomas come into the field holding
something in his hand. My suspicions being
aroused, I determined to have a good look at the
enemy before allowing his nearer approach; so
with a snort of defiance I started back, prepared,
if necessary, to take to my heels and be off.

*‘So—whoo—gently, Neddy,” said Thomas, who,
to my great disgust, insisted on ‘calling me by this
plebeian title ; ‘‘koop—koop, Neddy,” added
Thomas, putting his arm behind him, that I might
not see what he carried in his hand.

But this action, instead of disarming my suspi-
cions, only excited them further. If no foul play
was intended, what was there to conceal? and so,
determined to be on the safe side, with a defiant
kick, I started off at a gallop, as much as to say,
‘Catch me who can.”

I soon found out that old Thomas’s feeble legs
were no match for my young nimble ones, and,
having got the advantage, I kept it; and a pretty
chase I led my old friend; now for a moment I
would stand still, and look at him as if I intended
2A, THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

to give myself up his prisoner, and then in. an
instant—just as he thought I was within his reach
—I would slip from his reat and be off with a
: gallop to the other end of the field.

How long this struggle might have continued 1t
is impossible for me to say. Thomas was evidently
losing both his breath and his temper, whilst I was
only gettimg. my wind in the enjoyment of the
game. But just at this instant who should come
into the field but my young mistress.

_ «What, Thomas! ” oe exclaimed, “ cannot you
catch Tuppy ?”

“Catch him,” repeated Thomas, standing still and
wiping the perspiration off his face; “‘you might as
well try to catch the Will o’ the wisp. He wants a

good flogging, that he does, to bring him to order.”
-. Qh, do not flog him,” said my mistress, ina
tone of alarm; ‘you will spoil his temper if ree
do, Thomas.”

“ Spare the rod and spoil the child,” answered
_ Thomas, in his dry peculiar way. 5
. Ah; we know better than that now, Thomas,”
rephed my mistress with a smile.

_. “Just like all you young ones, ou always think
‘you know. better than your elders,” said Thomas,
rather gruffly; “a taste of the whip is a very good
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 25

thing sometimes, and to my thinking it is a pity
some folks do not get it a little oftener.”’

“The whip is a good executioner, Thomas, but
it is a very bad schoolmaster. It is much easier
to whip a child into a bad humour than a good
one; of that I am sure, and I think animals are
much the same.’

“ Sure, Miss Annie,*you do not mean to tell me
that you think it right that that little beast there
should tire me to bits and get no punishment? He
knows fast enough that he ought to come, only he
only he is sly enough for that.”

I felt quite flattered by the compliment, and
at rejoiced that I had managed to outwat
Old Thomas so skilfully.

“But you forget, Thomas, he cannot tell tiow
much he is tiring you; very likely heis only fright-
ened. - If you will promise me not to whip him, I
will promise to catch him for you.”

** You catch him!” said Thomas.

Yes; Tam sure I could. Will you promise?”

“A bargain is a bargain, Miss Annie. If you
can catch him he is safe from me.”
- Without another word, Annie came towards me.
. * Here, Tuppy, good Tuppy; come here; come
to me, Tuppy.”
26 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

Should I yield myself up? I eyed Thomas, and
I thought, “ No, no; soft words are not enough for
me; I will be off whilst there is time.”

But then I looked at my mistress, and I remem-
bered how kind she had always been to me, and
how grieved I had felt when I had pained her, and
how I had promised myself I would never do so
again; and so I thought to myself, ‘‘ Here is the
time now to show you are sorry; give yourself up,
Tuppy, without more ado :” and I came a few steps
on to meet my mistress, but then my heart mis-
gave me, and I stood snorting and uncertain.

“‘ What is it, Tuppy ? what are you afraid of ?”
said my mistress, kindly; ‘no one will hurt you.
Come, Tuppy.”

** She would not surely promise that,” thought
I, “if she could not perform it. She has
never deceived me yet in all these years; I can
trust her;’’ and so summoning up my courage I
walked right up to Annie, and stood rubbing my
head against her hand. Nothing could exceed
Annie’s delight at this proof of my confidence.
She caressed and fondled me, calling me by every
kind name she could think of, until at last even Old
Thomas seemed somewhat appeased ; for he said, in
his pleasant old voice, ‘‘'T'o be sure, Miss, but you
‘THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 27

have a wonderful way of your own. The poor
beast knows who is his best friend, true enough.
He need not be afraid of me now though; my word.
is my word, and you have saved him from a flog-
ging for this once.”’

‘“‘ Suppose you give me the bridle, Thomas; I
will put it over his neck, and then you can put the
bit in his mouth:” and in another moment I felt
some tight thing passing over my forehead, and a
hard cutting substance pressing against my teeth.
This was too much for endurance. I was for spring-
ing back instantly, indignant at what I thought was
a trick to deprive me of my liberty; but it was too _
late, I was caught in a trap, and a firm hand held
me tightly.

“Gently, Tuppy, gently,” said my mistress,

** you will only hurt yourself by pulling ;”’ and she
patted me in such a caressing way, that, angry as
Iwas, I could not help listening. ‘‘ Ah, Tuppy,
we must all take the bits in our mouths; you do
not know, Tuppy, what [ mean; I only wish
you did. But you will soon learn for yourself,
at is much better to obey the rein than to pull
away from it.”

And going back afew steps and then coaxing me
to follow her, I found for myself the truth of what
‘28 ‘THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

‘she said. It was not pleasant to have that great
. dron thing between my teeth, of course not; but
still, ‘as long as I did not pull against it, it did not
‘positively hurt me; and so, sulky as I was, I could
not but acknowledge that the wisest course that
remained for me was to obey, and I did
my best to understand what Thomas said to me,
and to do what I was bid; and, as usual, my
efforts todo right brought their own reward.
‘Thomas was very fairly patient with any little
‘blunders that I made, and as to my mistress, her
praise of my conduct knew no bounds; and when
my first day’s lesson was over, and I stood by her
side, munching up carrots and sugar, and feeling
her soft hand constantly patting my.forehead, I
thought; why, if this was learning, it was not so
‘very unpleasant after all, and I promised myself 1
‘would soon make such progress as would astonish
ay kind teacher.
Happy donkey that Iwas, to have such a mistress.
I know the blessing it was now, though then, I am
-afraid, I put but little store by it. Ah! well, it is
not easy to put old heads on young shoulders, or I
would say to you, my little friends, make the most
‘of your present blessings. If you have gentle
‘loving mothers and kind teachers, be thankful to
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 29

Him who has given them to you. Do not champ
upon the bit because you find the restraint irksome,
but take it well into your mouth; learn to follow
the slightest touch of the light hand that holds the
rein, and so will you be guided safely in the strait
and narrow road. And if you should be tempted
to turn aside and follow your own devices, and the
rein tightens, and the bit cuts your mouth, and
you are sharply turned back again, take my advice,
be thankful for the pain, and instead of struggling
and hurting yourself more, just retrace your steps,.
and be grateful that the cuts were not deeper, nor
the sores more incurable. .
CHAPTER III.

I learn to draw my Mistress’s Carriage—I see the World, and _
listen to Evil Counsel—A Trick, and what came of it—I
find that, after all, Honesty is the best Policy,

It would be tedious to trace the progress of my
education. Sufficient that at last I was pronounced
to be so well broken in that it was thought safe to
trust me to draw my young mistress out in a pretty
little carriage that had been made expressly for
myself. At first I did not like my new occupation
at all. It was very provoking to be led out of my
pleasant field, when perhaps I had not half finished
my morning’s meal, or was deep in conversation
with some of my neighbours in the adjoining
meadow, or was luxuriously rolling on the soft
grass. ‘T'o be taken away from these enjoyments
to drag a carriage over hot stony roads, and to
stand stock still doing nothing for the hour to-
gether, whilst my mistress was paying her visits ;
all this seemed to me very dull and tedious, but
gradually I became more reconciled to my lot. If
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 31

it had its disadvantages, it had its pleasures likewise.
T saw the world, I had the opportunity of conversing
with many of my own species, and of seeing how
much happier my life was than that of many others:
and though I confess to my shame, I was apt to for-
get this, and to give way to my temper, and show
obstinacy when things did not go quite as I liked,
grumbling and thinking myself a very ill-used
being; yet I believe on the whole I learned
wisdom by experience, and gave my dear mistress
as little trouble as could be expected.
Occasionally, indeed, I sorely tried her patience.
One instance I well remember. It had chanced
that I had been required to draw my mistress toa
heuse which I had a particular objection to visiting.
It was not only that the road that led to it was
hilly and stony, but it was a place where I never
received the slightest civility. No hay or water
was ever offered me, no shed where I might stand
at my ease out of the hot broiling sunshine; but I
was tied up tight to a post, and expected to stand
there for an hour at a time, whilst’ a nasty yelping
cur would come to bark at my heels, and the village
children peeping at me from over the rails, would
make fun of my helpless condition. All this wag
very hurtful to my vanity, and having in vain tried
BVA THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

to show my mistress by my obstinate manner that I
did not approve of being taken to Barstead, I de-.
termined one day, when as usual I was tied up to
the post, to relieve myself from the hated bondage,
hoping by constant pullings to be able to break
the reins, when I had made up my mind to run
away home, leaving my mistress to follow as best
she might.

But it was all in vain for me 4o pull and tug;
the reins were strongerthanI. Iwas only fretting
myself into a fever and making myself more and
more uncomfortable. Thoroughly out of humour,
I was venting my anger in a series of impatient
snorts, when suddenly I heard a short sneering
neigh close to my side, and looking up I saw a
little rough pony standing quite close to me, evi-
dently enjoying my distress.

“Why, my good friend,” said he, “‘ what is the
matter ? you seem very unhappy; can I be of any
assistance P”

The patronizing tone in which he spoke com-
pletely disconcerted me, for I donot know anything
more provoking than to expose your own helpless-
ness and incapacity to any one superior to yourself
in intellect and station; so putting on a dogged
air of composure, I declined his kind offer of
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 33

assistance, telling him I was only trying to shift my
bridle a bit, and that I had done it now for myself.

The mocking neigh which was his. only answer
showed me in.a moment that my falsehood was
discovered, and. that I had. only lowered. myself
still further in the opinion of my new acquaintance.

“My good fellow,” he said, “‘ you do not suppose
I have worn a bridle all these years to learn that
you are not going the right way-to ease. the bit.
Better tell me the truth; I am older than you, and
if I am not much mistaken I have seen a good deal
more. of life than you have;. come, what is the
matter? Out with it, and I will help you if I can.”

There was something in his cheery, good-natured
manner that conquered my pride, and in ‘spite of |
myself I soon found that I was talking to him as if
he had been an old friend, and telling him my
grievances as openly-as if he had been my brother.

«‘And now,” said I, in conclusion, “ what would
you advise me to do ?P””
- “Mo do,” he said; “why, next time your mistress
brings you to Barstead, lame yourself.”

‘Lame myself,” exclaimed I; “why, the remedy
would be worse than the disease.”

“You little innocent!” said my friend, with his
sneering laugh; “you made no scruple in telling a

D
a4 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

lie just now, why should you. find it more difficult
to act one?”

Involuntarily my ears wagged with horror as I
caught a glimpse of his meaning. I had been
tempted into a hasty falsehood in support of my
dignity. That was bad enough, but deliberately
to enact a lie, to deceive my kind mistress, this
appeared to me the height of ingratitude and
baseness. Alas! I did not remember how easily
one fault leads on to another.

«You asked my advice, and I have given it to
you,” said the pony; ‘‘if you are afraid to follow it
out, why, you must submit to be tied to a post for
the remainder of your life, and that is the proper
place for cowards. It is those only who have the
pluck to dare and to do, who make their way in
this world.”

“T am not afraid,” said I, rather faintly; “it is
not that.”

“ Well then, what is it?”

Coward.that I was, I did not dare to tell him
that I feared to do wrong and vex my kind
mistress, so I only grumbled out something about
the difficulty of deceiving her.

_ © That is of course a point you must decide for
yourself,” replied the pony; “only you must be a
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 85

great bungler if you cannot manage to take in a
woman. In our relations with mankind, either
they or we must be the masters, and the strongest
will in general carries the day. If force will not
do, try craft; but if you are beaten at both points,
why then, good-bye to your independence for all
time coming; best make up your mind at once to
sink into a mere despised beast of burden for the
rest of your life.”

What further valuable advice my new acquaint-
ance might have given me it is impossible for me
to say, for at this moment my mistress coming out
of the house, the servant came and untied my
reins, and I was led. away from my place of cap-
tivity, having only time to cast a farewell glance
at my friend, and to catch the wicked twinkle of
the bright eyes which glanced from under his
shagey eyebrows.

All the way home I thought over his words ;
indeed, so lost was I at times in the reflection, that
T was unpleasantly aroused by the sharp cut of the
whip across. my shoulders, and the sound of my
mistress’s voice reproving me very severely.

“ Ah, Tuppy,”’ she said, as, having at leneth
arrived at home, she got out of the carriage and
came and stood by my side without giving me so

D2
36 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

much as one pat; “you have gone very badly
indeed to-day, and you will not have a single carrot,
nor a bit of bread, nor a taste of sugar—no, not
one bit. Go away, Tuppy; naughty Tuppy.”

So that was my first experience of the fruits of
evil counsel. But alas! my heart was hardened by
the words of the tempter, and instead of repenting
of my fault, my mistress’s displeasure only made me
more obstinate and more inclined to try and have
my own way, and to persuade myself that it was
she who was unkind and unjust, and that if she
required me to do that which was disagreeable to
me, why, of course, I on my part was quite justified
in avoiding it if possible.

The more I brooded over my imaginary wrongs,
the more ill-used I considered myself to be, and the
more was I inclined to follow the advice of my
tempter. As is always the case, by constantly
dwelling on the fault which I longed to commit,
it gradually appeared to me to become less and
less sinful; I found such endless excuses to justify
my conduct to my own mind, that at length I ceased
to feel any compunction whatever on the subject,
und only awaited a favourable opportunity for
putting my intended deception into practice.

It was not long in offering itself. One beautiful
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY, OF A DONKEY. ‘37

bright morning about ten days after my last visit to
Barstead, J was, as usual, drawing my mistress’s
carriage. When she turned me up the lane which
led, I knew, to the hateful place, “Ah, ah!”
thought I, “I know where you are going to now,
and will see who carries out their purpose, you
or I.” So I cunningly watched my opportunity,
and began to tread a little—just a very little—
lame, stumbling occasionally as I trotted along.

«‘ What can be the matter with Tuppy?” I heard
my mistress say to her companion. ‘“‘ Do you not
think, Emily, he goes lame ?”

“Ah,” thought I, “you see it, do you?” and I went
lamer than before.

“Yes, certainly,” replied Emily, “he is quite
lame.”

«Perhaps he has got a stone in his shoe,”’ said
my mistress; “hold the reins, Emily, for a moment,
if you please. I will get out and look.”

“Dear me,” thought I, “now she will discover
the cheat ;” and I trembled all over.

“Poor Tuppy! poor Tuppy!’’ said my mistress
patting me. “He trembles so, he must be hurt.”

Would you believe it? Her kindness, instead of
softening my heart and making me see my fault,
only hardened me the more. I felt quite to despise
38 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

her for being such an easy dupe. This feeling gave
me the courage to stand quite still, whilst my
mistress lifted up first one foot and then another.

_. © There is no stone in any one of his feet,” ex-
claimed my mistress in a perplexed tone of voice as
she stood by my side, “and there is no sign of any
stone having hurt him anywhere.”

“ Perhaps it was only the ground over which we
have just come that made him go lame,” suggested
Emily; “TI noticed it was very stony.”

“Well, it may be that,” replied my mistress;
“we will go on, and try a little way farther.”

And getting into the carriage, she touched me
very lightly with the whip, saying,

“Now, Tuppy dear, go on.”

And very, very slowly I went, limping more and
more and more at every step I took. —

“Oh, Emily, I cannot bear this,” I heard my
kind mistress say, in a tone of the sincerest pity.
“Tt makes me quite miserable to see the pain
the poor creature is in; we must give up our drive
for to-day and go home.” And checking me as she
spoke, she turned me round towards home.

Oh, how my heart beat with joy to think of my
successful cheat! “Ah, ah!” thought I, “it is all
very well for you to hold the reins, but I can teach
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 39
you the way to go. I am master now for all time
coming, and I flatter myself you will never take
Tuppy again where he does not wish to go.”

But my joy was destined to be of short duration.
In my conceited delight at having so successfully
duped my mistress, I quite forgot that, to make my
trick successful, it was necessary that the decep-
tion should be carried on to the end, and no sooner
was I aware that I was going home, than I trotted
off as brisk as could be.

A hearty laugh from my mistress and her friend
awoke me from my dream of security ; I started as
I heard the words, “‘Would you have believed that
he could have feigned so skilfully?” and in another
moment I felt myself turned back on the road, to
Barstead, whilst the most: hearty whipping I had
ever received. from my mistress fell on my devoted
shoulders.

It was in vain for me to golame now. I limped
till I almost fell to'the ground; my mistress only
flogged the harder, until at length in despair I gave
up the struggle, and although in a thoroughly sulky
and obstinate humour, I consented to draw the
carriage up to Barstead.

Ah, who may tell what. bitter thoughts were
mine, as I stood waiting-for my mistress, tied as
40 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

usual to that horrid post. It was not only the
whipping I had received—that was bad enough, and_,
my shoulders ached again with the cuts—but to
have been discovered in my cheat, this was what
galled me to the quick, and for the moment I forgot
the fault in the shame of the discovery. In my
rage I looked eagerly round, hoping I might see my
tempter, and ease my own misery by venting my
il-humour on him who had given me the evil
counsel; I had better have looked nearer home, and
_ seen whowas the true author ofall my wretchedness.

But my fault was destined to meet with a still
sharper punishment. Not very long after this
excursion to Barstead my mistress was driving me
over a road which had just been repaired, and one
of the little flints happened to fix itself just under
my shoe, and on the softest point of my hoof. Oh,
the pain I felt, I shuddered all over ; I could hardly
put my foot to the ground, and limped along in the
greatest agony. ‘No, no,” said my mistress, whip-
ping me sharply; ‘‘no more of this nonsense; come,
make haste and go on.”

Alas and alas! for the lie which I had enacted!
How well I remembered how kindly my mistress
had pitied me before, how soothingly she had
caressed me, and how I had laughed at her for her
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. Al

pains. Ah! now, instead of whipping me on,
increasing my wretchedness every moment, but for
my own fault she would have seen to me as before,
and in a moment my tormentor would have been
removed. The knowledge that I had brought it
all upon myself did not tend to mitigate the pain,
and though I tried to limp on as fast as possible,
yet I nearly fainted with the agony I was enduring.

At length my evident discomfort moved the
compassion of my kind-hearted mistress. “I do
really think Tuppy has got a stone in his foot to-
day,” she said ; “ at any rate I will look before I go
on any further.” Who may tell how thankful I
felt for a kindness so much greater than I deserved,
and as she got out of the chaise I held up my foot
that she might know at once where the stone was,
and see that this time at least I was not deceiving
her.

“Poor Tuppy, poor fellow !”’ exclaimed my mis-
tress, as she carefully drew out the stone from
beneath the shoe; “I do not wonder you limped,
it must have hurt you dreadfully ; but see, Tuppy,
what it is to deceive; no one believes you when you
really are hurt. Cunning people outwit them-
selves; I wish I could make you understand me,
Tuppy. Iam verysorryfor you,poor—poor Tuppy.”
42 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

Her kindness softened my heart; not all the pain
and the punishment could have made me repent
so deeply as my mistress’s kind words. Oh! how I
wished I could make her know all that was passing
in my mind, and I rubbed my head against her, and
looked up in her face, hoping she would see how truly
I thanked her ; for the moment my feelings towards
my mistress had made me forget my own sufferings,
but no sooner did I put my foot to the ground than
I was recalled to a recollection of my late agony.
It was in vain to attempt to trot, the slowest hobble
gave me such pain that I was obliged to stand quite
still to recover my breath. My dear mistress
seemed sincerely sorry; she turned towards home
immediately, driving me back as slowly and gently
as possible. On my arrival at home warm foment-
ations were instantly applied, but so great an
amount of inflammation had set in, that it was days
before I could hobbie about even in my field and
on the soft green grass, and not for weeks did I
quite get over the effects of my sad misadventure.

During the period of my illness I had plenty of
time for reflection, and for seeing not only how
foolish but how wrong my conduct.had been. “Ah,
Tuppy,’’ said my mistress one day when, as usual,
she had been tenderly inquiring after my wounded
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 48

foot. ‘I hope this will be a lesson to you for life.
We have all got our cross, Tuppy. It lies in the
pathway of each one of us. We must take it up
and carry it, or we shall stumble over it and hurt
ourselves, and that is what you have done, Tuppy.”

“‘ How can you be so absurd, Annie, as to talk
in this way to a donkey ?” said my mistress’s com-
panion.

“‘'Tuppy understands me, I'am sure he does,”

was the reply; “look how sensibly he looks up in
my face, he can do almost everything but speak.”
. And though perhaps I did not understand every-
thing she said just in the sense which you would
apply to it, kind reader, yet I took in quite suffi-
cient to make me deeply regret the past, and
determine to try and amend in the future.
CHAPTER IV.

A Real Grievance —Richard and I declare War against each
other—A Struggle—I gain a Victory, and am conquered
in my turn—I change Masters, and enter a new Phase of
Existence.

THERE is no lot in life so perfectly happy but that
it is possible to find some cause of complaint, and
indeed it is too often the case that the fewer
grievances people have, the more you hear them
grumble. Now I have no doubt I had a great
many imaginary, but I had one real unmistakeable
source of unhappiness. Amongst the servants at
the hall, was a boy whom my master had origin-
ally taken on out of charity. He was a quick,
clever lad, but of a nasty, spiteful disposition,
though this he was clever enough to keep out of his
master’s sight. He delighted in teasing and cruelty,
and nothing seemed to make him happier than to
be able to render others miserable. Against myself
he had an especial spite, and endless were the tricks
with which he contrived to annoy me. Sometimes,
just when I was going to be harnessed to the
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. A5

carriage he would place a piece of holly or
something equally prickly just under my tail,
and when of course I tried to kick the inconvenience
away, he would declare it was all vice on my part;
so I got the whipping he so richly deserved. Then
again, sometimes when I came home from a journey
ready to drop with thirst, the ill-natured little
fellow would hold the pail to my lips as handy as
possible, and then at the very moment when, eager
to drink, I was putting down my mouth for a
draught, he would suddenly tilt up the pail, making
the contents fly into my eyes and ears, or else
spilling the water on the stones around. ~

These, and a hundred similar injuries, which it
would be needless to detail, and which I am quite
sure it is better to forget, made me hate the very
sight of Richard ; and so little pains did I take to
conceal my feelings, that my mistress soon dis-
covered there was something wrong between us.
*T cannot think what it is, papa,” I one day over-
heard her say, “that makes Tuppy so dislike
Richard; I am quite sure he must ill-treat: him.”

What would not I have given at that moment
to have had the power of stating my grievances to
my kind mistress, but that could not be; I could
only sigh, wag my ears very slowly, and trust to

?
46 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKKY.

my mistress’s acuteness to find out how matters
stood for herself. One word then, and what months
of misery I might have been spared! But I dare
say it was all for the best; I have learned to value
blessings from the loss of them, and no doubt my
old age is happier from the sorrows and misfortunes
of my middle life.

If Richard could play off his spiteful tricks
almost under the eyes, so to speak, of my mistress,
it may be imagined the life he led me when the
family were away from home; then I was almost
entirely at his mercy, and he took care to improve
his opportunities to the utmost. Asa generalrule,
when my mistress was away, I was not allowed to
do any work whatever; but it occasionally happened
that a letter had to be sent in a hurry to the post,
or some commission executed in the neighbouring
town, and then, instead of walking, Richard would
be allowed to ride me. Ah! those rides, how I
dreaded them! what kicks, what blows, what
language! In those days I had never heard such
words before, and could hardly understand their
meaning. Is it to be wondered at that I rebelled
against such treatment, and did. my very utmost
to get rid of my tormentor?

I must confess however that, as a general rule,
my efforts were not crowned with the success that
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 4

they deserved ; on one occasion, however, I was the
victor, but my victory cost me dear.

Richard had ridden me into the town for some-
thing that was wanted at the hall, and all the way
along it had been a struggle between us. I
obstinately determined not to go, he as obstinately
bent on making me; at length by dint of kicks and
blows, the misery of which became too great to be
endured, he succeeded in goading me on as far as
the markét-place of the town.

It happened to be market day, and the square was
quite full of country people who had come in to buy
and sell. Whether it was the desire of showing
off, or whether Richard’s temper had become more>
than usually irritated by my determined opposition
to his will, I do not know ; but here, in the presence
of all these people, he began to beat me violently
about the head, at the same time urging me into a
gallop. . Half blinded and stupified by the blows,
my only reply was to stand perfectly still. Richard
beat me more savagely than before; cries of
‘«‘ Shame, shame!” resounded from all sides. “I will
tell your master,” said one; “‘ You will lose your
place,” said another; while a third cried out,
“JT wish the beast would kick him off; it would
serve him right to have a roll in the mud, that it
would.”
48 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

I only needed this one word of encouragement
to put the plan which I had formed into execution.
Planting my two front feet firmly on the ground,
T kicked and kicked andkicked with such a thorough
hearty good-will, that at length my adversary,
losing his balance, flew over my head, and rolled
round and round upon the mud beneath me.
Shouts of laughter resounded from all sides; not
waiting to see what would become of Richard, I
instantly turned towards home, and galloped up
the street as fast as my legs would carry me, the
people not attempting to stop me, but rather urging
me to greater speed by cries of “Bravo! well done,
Neddy! go on, Neddy !”

Excited by these shouts, and by the triumph I
had just achieved, I redoubled my speed, my heart
beating with joyful pride at my late victory. Alas !
how little I knew the price I was to pay for it. If
T had had the sense to go straight home, all would
have been well; but when one has once tasted of
the pleasures of conquest, and listened to the
flattery of praise, one’s judgment is apt to be less -
clear, and no sooner had I reached such a distance
from the town as to render me comparatively safe,
than I slackened my speed, and began, with great

self-complacency, to think over the events of the
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 49

morning, refreshing myself by constant nibbles at
the grass by the wayside. I was indulging in this
luxurious confidence, when I suddenly felt my rein
seized by a vigorous hand; and looking up I found
myself confronted by a powerful middle-aged man.

“So you are the runaway donkey, are you ?”’ he
said; “I was just on the look-out for you,” and I
saw that he glanced hastily up and down the road,
but not another creature was in sight.

“So! allis right,” he said; “come along, Neddy,
come along ;” and he hastily turned me off the high
road on to a path which led into a wood hard by.

It was all done so quickly that I had not a
moment to recover my self-possession, and I was
already far on in the path, before I had time to
consider who the man was, and what he could
possibly mean by taking me into this road, which I
had never seen before. My first sensation was one
of delight to think how completely I had outwitted
Richard, but this was quickly followed by the
dread, “ What if I had been outwitted myself?”
and I began to reproach myself bitterly with my
folly in not having resisted in the first instance
and. refused to allow myself to be led from the high
road.

“But better-late than never,” thought I, and

E
50 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

giving a vigorous pull at the rein, I tried to get away
from the man, determining to regain the road, and
never stop again till I had safely arrived at home.
Alas! I had now to discover how far easier it is to
take a step in the wrong direction, than to retr ace
it when made.

The man in an instant seemed to discern my
intention, and holding the rein tighter than: he had
done before, he gave me three or four tremendous
blows with a stick which he had in his hand;

exclaiming at the same time, “So you think to get

away from me, as you did from that boy, do you?
You will find yourself mistaken ; I will soon make
you know who is master now;’’ and he repeated the
cuts with greater violence than before.

The savage tone in which he spoke, and the pain
‘which I felt from the blows I had received, seemed
quite to stun me, and take away all power of
resistance; and in spite of myself I walked on by
his side, trembling in every limb, and holding my
tail tight between my legs in the vain hope that
this would protect me from his cruel blows. Ihave
often thought since that I acted like a coward,
and that, if I had plucked up my spirit, I might
have regained my liberty. But after all, I do not
‘know; in a struggle between men and beasts, I


TUPPY TAKEN PRISONER.—Page 50.
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 51

‘suppose if a man chooses to exert his strength, he

can always get the mastery. We do not think
of this as long as we are in happy homes, and all
goes prosperously ; we forget that we are servants,
and that our master has a right to expect our
obedience in return for the food he gives us, and
the care which he bestows upon us. We are apt
to grow proud, and to think that our service is
entirely optional ; and that, if we do our duty well,
it is a great merit on our part, and calls for grati-
tude on that of our master; and then it is not till
we feel his strong hand upon us, conquering our _
wills, and doing with us according to his pleasure,
that we begin to understand that we are only
servants of a higher power than our own, and that
we should have been wiser to have submitted
patiently and done our duty cheerfully, than to
have struggled against an authority which, after all,
we are powerless to resist. I can think these
thoughts now that I am quietly at rest in my old
age, but my feelings were very different on the
day of my capture.

My new master having led me through the wood,
jumped upon my back, and by a repetition of the
cruel blows I so muchdreaded, urged me to gallop on
acrossan open common on which wehadnow entered.

EQ
52 | THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

Frightened as I was, I had sense sufficient to know
that it would be better for me to obey; but I did
so with a heavy heart, knowing well that every
step was taking me further and further away from
the home which I had never loved so well as now
that I had lost it. Still Imade what speed I could,
and having crossed the common, my master turned
me up a narrow lane, urging me on even faster
than before, till at length he turned off on to a
waste piece of land, the most dreary-looking place
T had ever seen in my life; pools of water here and
there, and the greund with scarcely a blade of
grass, and nothing but a few stunted furze bushes
scattered about. Here he pulled me up, and
getting off my back, he led me ona little distance,
then standing still, he whistled very loudly and
sharply. In a few minutes the call was answered
by @ man younger and not so powerful-looking as
himself.

‘‘ Where is the tent, Bill ?” was his first question.

« A little way down to the left yonder.”

«Then we must look alive and push on for it,
and dress up this donkey here before the,search is
out for him.”

«Why, where did you pick him up, Jem?” asked
his companion, as he proceeded to examine me ;
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 58

«you have been in rare luck to-day, I never saw
a more likely beast. He has been in good quarters
too, I should say, from the look of his skin.”

“That he has,” returned my master. “He is
one of Squire Morton’s raising ; so you may be sure
he is the right sort. I have had my eye on him for
some time past, but they kept him so close I could
not get a chance before. However, we have not a
moment to lose. He isa pet of the family, so there
is sure to be a hue and cry; run on and get the
shears and some good strong pitch ready.”

My heart sank within me. I did not indeed un-
derstand the full meaning of the words, but I felt
sure from the man’s manner that mischief was in-
tended, and again I did my best to escape and
make my way home—but it would not do. I was
led on, in spite of myself, to the tent, and then the
cruel work began. Snip—snip—snip! I heard,
whilst a hard cold heavy substance ran all over
my body; and then came something hot and burn-
ing, which made me kick and jump with pain. But
it was in vain to struggle. My tormentors had me
in their power, and not till they had satisfied
themselves did they at length release me from
their grasp.

«There, Bill,” said my master, when at length
5A THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

“he had finished; ‘‘I think we have done it pretty
well. I do not believe even his own mother would
know him now. However, we wont risk it; let us
strike tents and be off. Here, give me the log,
that heaviest one, and we will put that on his leg.
He will not run far with that, I promise him.”

And in another moment I felt a tight cutting
pressure round my ankle, and giving me a cut, my
master told me to be off and eat my dinner, for I
should soon be wanted for work. Hat my dinner!
My only thought was to get away home, and once |
escaped from his hands, I was for galloping off
without a moment’s loss of time. Gallop! I could
hardly walk. . No sooner did I attempt to ‘move
than I heard a loud clanking noise, and felt a drag
as if my leg was broken. ‘Looking back in terror
and amazement, I perceived that an immense piece
of wood was fastened to my leg by a great iron
chain; I tried to shake it off, but my efforts
only made the chain cut me more painfully, whilst
I bruised my legs by knocking them against the
log. Broken-hearted and in despair I stood per-
fectly still, bewildered and not knowing what to do
next. At length an irresistible desire seized me to
see what my tormentors had done to me. I recol-
lected how proudly I had often surveyed myself in
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 55

the stream.at home, and how I had admired my
shiny brown coat and the long hairs in my mane.
Slowly, very slowly, I dragged myself to the edge
of one of the pools. The water was very muddy
and did not perhaps reflect all my hideousness, but
T saw enough, alas! to make me start back in hor-
ror from myself. My mother not know me! why
I did not know myself! My beautiful coat all
clipped, and rough, and ragged, and covered with
great patches of black and dirt; and my mane—
that mane my dear mistress had so often praised—
oh! what would she have said to it now! Idrew
back from. the sight of myself, and groaned in-
wardly. ‘Ah!” thought I, “and has so short a
time been sufficient for so great a change? Is
this the beauty of which I was so fond? Fool

that I was to set such store upon the very thing
which has brought me to. all this misery, and
* -which is gone in an hour,” and laying down my
long ears, my heart felt well nigh broken. -

In the midst of all my sorrows I suddenly roused
up to the feeling of being very hungry. I had had
nothing since the morning, and was quite faint and
‘exhausted with my long gallop and all the agita-
tion and excitement of the day. Looking round |
me, therefore, I tried to find something that I
56 - THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

should like to eat; but there was nothing, actu-
ally nothing; for it was not to be supposed that a
donkey bred up as I had been would condescend to
make a meal of rank sedgy grass, or a few bits of
dried-up furze. Sorrow had not yet done its work.
My proud spirit was chafed and angry—not broken;
and I had still to learn that the meal I now despised
might one day be eaten with gratitude.

I was standing in the sullen gloom of despair,
when my master came up to me. “So, Neddy,”
he said, “you do not seem to be enjoying your
meal. You will know better, my fine fellow,some
day, than to be particular about trifles. You will
not be dainty long, I promise you. It will do you no
harm for once to work upon an empty stomach. It
will take down your spirit quicker than anything.”

And unclasping the log as he spoke, he swung
it over my back, and led me up to the tent, where
he proceeded to load me with ‘every imaginable ©
article. I might be frightened as tin jingled against
- tin by every movement of my body; I might try to
resist so heavy a load being placed upon my back ;
but it was all of no. good, the weight was fixed
upon my shoulders, and then I was driven off
with blows as before.

' We seemed to be a large party—one of my own
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 57

family, but so old and ugly, and wretched-looking
that I turned from her in disgust, quite forgetting
my own forlorn look, and all the wise reflections I
had so lately made. This poor donkey carried
some children, and a number of things of which I
did not know the use; and a sort of van drawn by
an old horse, conveyed the tent and all that the
party might want beside. How long or where we
travelled, I’ cannot say. I only know that I was
faint and tired and weary, when at length we
came to a halt in a wooded dingle a little away
' from the road-side. It looked pretty enough in
the bright moonlight, but I was too wayworn to.
think of that; and when my load was removed
from my back, I laid down from sheer fatigue, and
shutting my eyes, tried to forget all my sorrows in
sleep.

Only this morning, and what a happy donkey I
had been. Ido not know well how to measure
time ; but itseemed to me as long since I had left
my home, as one of those dreary periods when my
mistress was away from it. I thought of all my
mother used to say to me about the changes of.
life, and how thankful I ought to be for the happy
lot that had been given to me, and how grateful
and desirous to value my blessings to the full; and
58 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

now when I had lost them all, I for the first time
felt their value, and knew how lightly I had prized
them.

All, did I say? Whilst I was thinking thus de-
spondingly of my misfortunes, I heard a kind voice
say to me, “Come, poor Neddy, here is something
for you to eat,” and looking up, I saw a little
child holding towards me a large handful of hay.
“Come, poor Neddy, good Neddy,” added the
child, as she patted me kindly. Then, after all, I
was not so utterly forsaken. Even in my utmost
distress, there was still something left to comfort
me, and as I gratefully munched up my hay, I felt
the first moment of happiness I had experienced
since my misfortune. How often have I found
since, that there is no trial which may not be made .
more or less hard to bear by our own conduct
under it—few states so bad, but that if we choose
we can make-them worse. Keep up a good heart,
and be grateful for every little comfort as it comes.
Thatis my advice. Jonly wish I could speak out,
and ‘let my masters know how much lies in their
power to make us, their poor servants, happy. If
they knew how grateful we feel for kindness, and
how much readier we are to go for a kind word -
than a hard blow, who knows but that perhaps
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 59

they would learn to treat us better if only for their
own sakes.

Any way, I felt happier as I lay down that
night to rest, and it was a child’s act and a child’s
words which had made me so.
CHAPTER V.

I travel to all Parts of England, and make acquaintance with
every Variety of People—At length I come to London—
Regent-street in mid-day—A Recognition—I make my
first Appearance in a Police Court, and prove myself a
valuable Witness—I take up my Abode in the ‘Green
Yard.”

I was roused very early the next morning from th,
- enjoyment of my quiet sleep by a sharp kick in the
side ; jumping up as fast as possible, I saw my mas-
ter standing by me ready dressed; putting the
bridle over my head he led me away to where the
rest of the party were sitting having their break-
fast. . They did not offer anything, however, to me,
and I was obliged to content myself with a few
bites of grass from the road-side. To judge from
the eager talking that went on, some very important
matter was being decided. Ina few moments my
master, throwing some light articles for sale over
my shoulders, jumped himself upon my back, and
saying good-bye to his companions, set me off at a
good sharp trot. Wehad not gone very far, when
my master suddenly pulled me up, and seemed
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 61

hesitating whether he should turn me round or
not. Iwas wondering what we were to do next,
when I saw aman coming towards me, whom I re-
cognised 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.

*Halloo!” 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 stupified 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
62 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

me on to the extent of my powers in the opposite
direction. How grieved I felt then, low angry
with the man for his stupidity in not recognising
me and taking me home; I was yet to learn what
an important influence over my future dosviny 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
hawker, who went through the country, now selling
one kind of goods, now another, as the case might
be, just to suit the various tastes of the different
communities in the neighbourhood of which we
found ourselves. When first I was in his posses-
sion, 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 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 63

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, healthful-looking
faces; but such grim, dirty men—such wretched-
looking women, and miserable children. It was
quite sad to look at them, as I stopped 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’ sweet voice; how different
to those quiet drives in the green lanes of my native
county. Ah! now that it was too late, how bit-
terly 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 onewillinsist 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
64 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

value it else. We never do value anything that we
get cheap. I often used to hear my master say
that. ‘Put on agood 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 she was a good-hearted woman, was my
new mistress.

** 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 Ido? I could only turn my head round,
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 that 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
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 65

some of its saddest and most miserable forms.. Oh,
what places we went into! My stableat 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 mea feed of corn 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
merry-makings. 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. Nosooner hadI 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 unharnessed from the shafts, a
. Saddle placed upon my back, and then I was let
out by the hour, to as many mischievous urchins

F
66 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

as chose to take their full pennyworth of pleasure,
by the kicking and beating which seem to con-
stitute 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 hand-
some 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 some-
times, in despair, I turned sulky, and refused to
go at all—why, 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 sup-
pose, of increasing hisearnings. My coat had by
this time recovered from the ill-treatment it had re-
ceived, and by dint of a good dressing, could be made
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 67

to acquire something of its original gloss ; and as I
now occasionally gota feed of corn, 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 recognise me. In all
my troubles, 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, ag
I thought *‘ How is it possible that she should re-
member me? There is nota trace of her Tuppy left
in this ragged, dirty, jaded ass,” 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 reco-

F 2
68 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY,

vering something of my former appearance, my
spirits rose, and 1 became more than ever eager for
the meeting with my mistress, but it never seemed
to come. I would stand in the marketplace of a
town, and hundreds and hundreds of people passed
by me, and I looked up wistfully in their faces, but
they were nothing to me, nor I to them. I would
visit quiet country-houses, and I hope and think :
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—lI cannot tell you how long it >
was, I have no means of reckoning—but at length
our journeyings seemed to take a different direction
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 any-
thing 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 shoving, pushing. I could hardly get along
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 69

for terror and surprise, and at every moment I ex-
pected 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, why 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 uncon-
cernedly as I should have wandered across a soli-
tary 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 to the wretched monotony of my present
existence, 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; whilst 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 decay-
70 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

ing cabbage leaves, and quench my thirst with a
drink of half putrid water.
. And then the work—it was incessant. At ear-
liest break of morning I was harnessed to the car-
riage 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 downhearted,
I might often have been amused by the bustling
scenearound me. Itwasa 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
greens. How I looked and longed that some kind
hand would give me just one taste. Butno; I
must stand hour after hour in the midst of all this
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. vi

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 few less grains of corn
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 a while of this sharpener to their appe-—
tites.

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 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
72 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

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 mis-
tress ; 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 me-
tropolis, 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 success-
ful 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 public house near to take a
glass to keep out the cold, and to drink to their
mata 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
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 7a

nor the cart tillI come back again. Do you hear,
Pome”

“Yes, I hear,” was the somewhat sulky reply, ~
and drawing me up close to the kerb-stone, where
I should be as much as possible out of the way, my
master, saying he should not be long gone, 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, Tuppy, Tuppy! dear Tuppy ! 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 en-
deavouring to show by every means in my power
my unbounded joy at again beholding my beloved
mistress.

“Oh, look, papa, papa!” exclaimed my mistress,
74 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

“‘Tuppy knows me! Tuppy remembers me! Good
Tuppy! Dear, dear old Tuppy ?”

In her delight at seeing me, my mistress had, like
myself, forgotten thatRegent-stracts in the middle of
the day is rather a public place to give way to out-
bursts of affection. Already a crowd had gathered
round us, some wondering, some laughing, ladiesand
gentlemen standing byin silent curiosity to see what
would be the end of this strange greeting ; cabmen
drawing up to enjoy the fun, omnibus coachmen
and conductors lingering on their way, and looking
back to watch what all the confusion was about, as
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 recognise ;
and looking up, I saw a fine, tall, handsome-looking
man, who drew my mistress’ hand away from me,
and placed it on his own arm.

“Papa, dear, will you see Tuppy?” said my
mistress, looking round, evidently frightened and
bewildered by the confusion around her, and en-
deavouring to make her way through the crowd
of bystanders.
+ THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 75

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
shoved more vehemently than before.

Louder and louder rose the peals of laughter ;
higher and higher swelled the cheers; and think-
ing I was doing the most appropriate thing possi-
ble, 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.

‘ Holloa!?? he exclaimed with a coarse oath,
‘what is all this row about P 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 now actively employed in keeping
76 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

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 or invent; 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-court
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 round in trembling dread, that now,
being once more at the mercy of my brutal master,
I should be made to suffer some horrible punish-
ment for having thus given way to my delight at
seeing my long-lost friend. But I soon found that,
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 77

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-courts of the metropolis.
Here my master disappeared from my view, whilst
Tremained 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 held 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,
towards a doorway, so blocked up by people that
I felt quite frightened, and refused to go on.

“Come, Neddy, come along,” said the policeman
78 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

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 persons walkin the streets of London. I
had never been in such an odd place before, and I
did not half like it, and was more then once inclined
to turn back; but the man kept a firm though
~ 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, turn-
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 79

ing 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 won-
der I did not recognise 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 ;
whilst many a voice exclaimed—* He has had the
donkey, that is clear enongh, 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 | 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.

“Tuppy ! dear Tuppy !” she said, just in the way
that she used to call me up to the railings years
80° THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

ago. Oh, I forgot all my past misery, and think-
ing 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 P
I could only express my joy with the voice which
nature had given me. Ifit 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 policeman
who held me, I went right up to my mistress, and,
rubbing my nose against her hand, I whinnied out
my happiness, intreating 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 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 81

the grave man say in tones of such kindness as
showed his mterest in my fate,

“Tam quite satisfied, Madam ; no witnesses that
could be produced could speak half so strongly to °
the truth of your case as does the affectionate re-
membrance 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 provided 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.”

“T 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
82 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

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.

Ido 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, Tuppy,” 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 des-
tined 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, Tuppy; there is a good
Tuppy! I will come to see you very soon; good-
bye, Tuppy!” and patting me kindly, before I had
time to look round even, she was gone.
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 83

A crowd, little short of that which had accom-
panied 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 towards me had already impressed
me greatly in his favour. I gleaned too from what
T 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 towards 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 recognised 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 re-
fused, as I then thought, to rescue me from my
G2
84 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

dreaded slavery. Who knew but that now he
might come forward, and, recognising 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 1 was com-
fortable enough in my present abode, and had
plenty to eat and drink; but I had been so ac-
customed 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 hadall 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 shut-
ting 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 VI.

The Trial comes to an end—An old Friend visits my Stable
I take my first’ Railway. Excursion and find myself in
well-remembered Scenes— Home again—Conclusion.

As days passed on, and still I neither saw nor
heard anything of my dear mistress, my heart mis-
gave me. Was it possible, after all, that she had
forsaken me? Would she give me back into the
power of that dreadful man? Oh! how I wished
that I had not suffered myself to be led out of the
court; that I had stayed by her side, and never
lost sight of her until I was once more in the plea-
sant green fields of my. early home. It was in
‘vain to regret the past. I might fume and fret, it
would make no difference to the tiresome present.
If I could but have released myself from the bridle
that bound me to my stall, I would have made my
escape from the stable, and never rested, I thought,
until I had once again found my mistress. Hap-
pily for me, I was not permitted to accomplish my
object, or who knows but my second flight might
86 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

have been attended with quite as disastrous conse-
quences as my first; but all that I got by my
efforts to escape, was to draw upon myself the
attention of my guardians, and make them secure
me more carefully than before. I hated them,
then—foolish donkey that I was; but I have owed
them such a debt of gratitude ever since, that
- nothing pains me more than to hear a word said
against the police. Let every one speak as they
find; I say, they are a fine, brave body of men,
- who have a very difficult duty to perform, and do -
it faithfully and well. |

But to come back to myself. I was standing
musing, I am afraid, in a very discontented state of
mind, when I heard the door of the stable open.
Thinking, however, it was only one of the men
come to attend to their work, I did not even trouble
myself to turn my head, until suddenly I felt a
hand laid on my shoulder, and heard a voice, I
thought I remembered, say, sadly enough—

“Why, Neddy! who would have thought that
you and I should have met again in such a place
as this; and you so altered? Poor old Neddy! how
badly you have been used!””

Old Neddy, indeed! My heart swelled with such
mortified vanity at the name, that for the moment—


TUPPY MUSING.—Page 86.

THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 87

ungrateful that I was! I felt more vexation than
pleasure as I recognised Thomas standing by my
side. But it was only a momentary feeling, and,
looking up in his face, I endeavoured to show my
pleasure at seeing any one connected with old times.

“ Ah, Neddy,” continued Thomas, ‘‘so you know
me, do you? Itis more than I should have done
by you? You do look dreadful bad. Why; I
shall never get that rough, shaggy coat of yours
right again. No, not though I groom you for
hours at a time.”

Thomas groom me, again! I never thought of
the rudeness of the speech in my exceeding joy at .
hearing I was to be again in his care. Ah, then! I
must be free from my detested master. I must be
going back to the home and the mistress I loved
so well. «

So it is all over, is it?’ inquired a policeman,
who at that moment entered the stable and pro-
ceeded to unfasten my bridle.

“Yes: it was decided some hours ago,” said
Thomas. ‘It was a queer trial, was it not?’ he
added. .

“The queerest I have ever heard,” returned the
policeman; “‘and that is saying a good deal, for
strange stories come to our ears. If it had not
88 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

been for this donkey here, ten to one, your master
would never have gained his cause. The man told
a wonderful plausible tale. But this dumb beast
here told a better. You should have been in court
that day. It was a sight to remember, and there
was many a one who thought it no shame to be
seen with tears in their eyes; and as to Mr. Wick-
harde, I never seed him so moved in all my life.
That donkey is a first-rate witness. or my part,
I would rather have him than half the men I
know.”

‘This testimony in my favour seemed to raise me
in the estimation of Thomas, for he patted me far
more kindly than before, saying, ‘Poor old Neddy!
He will be glad enough to be amongst his old
friends again.”

“How did the trial go?” asked the policeman.
“T wanted 1o have heard the end; but I was on
duty here this morning, and could not manage it.
I almost thought they would have sent for the
donkey, and I meant to have taken him down
myself.”

«T+ did not last long,” returned Thomas; ‘‘there
was no question about the donkey being Mr.
Morton’s property. The only point was whether
Jackson stole him or not; fortunately he had been
met, by one of master’s own workmen, the morn-
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. . 89

ing after the theft. Jackson was riding the donkey
at that moment, and Mills felt sure he recognised
it by the star on itsforehead. Itisa very peculiar
mark, you see,” continued Thomas, as he turned
my head to the light, and pushed back some shaggy
hairs. “ Jackson-had never thoughtof concealing it;
and it was rare and lucky for Tuppy he did forget.
Mills had words with Jackson at the time about
the donkey; but the man rode off, and Mills did
not like to stop him, for he did not know as how
our donkey had been stolen; however, he came on
straight to our house, and told his story; but master
was away atthe moment, and so time was lost, and
when the Squire returned and a hue and cry was
raised, Jackson had got clean away, and from that
day to this we have never been able to get clue
nor trace of him, nor of the donkey neither; and
it is wonderful, I say, how all this matter has been
found out; and it just shows me, that sooner or
later God, who watches over all, will bring our
crimes to light. Murder will out, they say, and I
think theft be much the same. Well, of course, as
soon as mistress claimed Tuppy here, the first thing
to do was to send for Mills, and he swore to the
donkey and swore to the man, and the verdict. was
given in favour of my master.’

« Ah!” thought I, “I see it all now; why, ion
90 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

stupid I have been! So that was the man who came
in the other day when I was eating my corn, and I
was so cross at bemg disturbed, and so sulky, I
would hardly let him look at my head; and after
all he had only come to save me, and I, likea fool,
was angry at amomentaryinconvenience. Tuppy—
Tuppy—Tuppy !” thought I, “ will you never learn
wisdom by experience ; will you never understand
your own utter ignorance, and bow in grateful
humility before that Great Power that makes all
» things work together for your good ?” and I gave
such a great sigh, that, Thomas broke off his speech
suddenly, and looking at me, added with a smile—

** Well, I should like to know what that beast
has got in his head now. He always had such a
queer way with him; I believe he understands every
word we say. If he could but speak, may be it
would be a strange story he would have to tell us.”

Strange! strange, indeed! Ah! you men, with
all your wisdom, it is but little that you know of
what is passing through the minds and hearts of
poor dumb beasts.

The idea of freedom was still so new to me that
I could hardly realize the fact that I was safe from
the brutal treatment of the man whom, for the last
three years, I had been forced to call my master ;
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 91

and as Thomas led me out of my place of confine-
ment, and I found myself once more in the streets
of London, I turned and looked about me in
nervous horror, dreading lest I should suddenly
hear the sound of Jackson’s hated voice, and feel
myself again in the grasp of his powerful hand. -

“So, whoo, Neddy! gently, Tuppy, my man,”
exclaimed Thomas in the reassuring voice of old
times. ‘No need to be afraid now; there is no-
body coming to hurt you: come on, old fellow—
come on, Come, make haste, and do not put your =
tail between your legs in that miserable way ; I
ain’t a-going to flog you, Tuppy. Why, you are
making a sight of yourself and me too.”

True enough. I felt I looked a pitiful craven-
“spirited wretch; but I had been so long accus-
tomed to find that a word and a blow went to-
gether, that it had become a sort of habit of nature
to endeavour to protect myself from the assault,
and I could have no more helped cowering down
and holding my tail tight between my legs than I
could have prevented myself from blinking if I
had been forced to look suddenly at the sun. How-
ever, seeing that Thomas was vexed at my miserable
appearance, and not wishing to mortify the kind
hearted old man, I endeavoured to pluck up courage
92 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.»

and to trot along by his side with somewhat of the
air and spirit of bygone days; andasI found that
we passed street after street,and square after squaré
without stop or molestation, I began gradually to
acquire confidence and to believe in the reality
of my deliverance. Having gone a considerable
distance, we at length arrived at the entrance to
one of the great railway stations.

“ Now, my man,” said Thomas, as he pulled me
up for amoment, and gave me an encouraging pat ;
“do not you go for to make a fool of me and your-
self; you are going to see queer sights and hear
queer sounds, so make up your mind to behave
like a sensible beast as you are. There, do you
hear that ? that is one of them,” added Thomas, as ,
a shriek was suddenly heard close by our side, fol-
lowed by screeches, little less discordant, ending
ina series of agitated puffs, as if some mighty
monster was giving up the ghost.

“ Do you hearthat, eh, Tuppy?” repeated Thomas,
as he turned my head in the direction of the noise,
as if to accustom me to the sound.

Hear it! Of course I did; but what did I care for
it ? Had I not been accustomed to almost every rail-
way in the kingdom, and did not I know the sound
of a locomotive, bursting for very spite at being -
_ stopped in its mad career ? Often and often, when I
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 93:

had been drawn up by the side of some country
station-house, had I speculated on the nature of
those great iron animals, that day after day, and
night after night, go tearing along across the
country dragging their great loads after them,
without ever so much as seeming to feel their
weight, or ever showing symptoms of vexation or
weariness, except when they are pulled up in mid
career; then indeed they squeak, and spit, and
hiss, and make a pretty to do. Ah! often and
often as I had watched the locomotives, I had
wished I had a skin like theirs. I envied them
their strength and powers of endurance. I afraid
of them! I should think not indeed; and quite
proud to have an opportunity of reinstating myself
in Thomas’s good opinion, I held up my head, and,
shaking my ears with an air ofsupreme indifference,
I walked with dignified unconcern right into the
shed where the engine was showering out a perfect
cloud of white breath.

«Well done, Neddy; good donkey,” said Thomas,
patting me approvingly; and then he proceeded to
lead me up the platform to where a great square
box was standing with its doors wide open. Into
this dark uncomfortable-looking cage he bid me
enter; and now I confess a feeling of terror came
over me, putting all my boasted courage at once
94, THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

to flight, and turning round I struggled hard to
escape from Thomas’s hold.

“Whoo, hoo—gently, stoopid—what is the
matter?” said Thomas, crossly. ‘ Why, what are
you afraid of now; who is going to hurt you,
Neddy ?”

Ah! indeed, who! ** How am I to tell ?” thought
I; “shut up all alone in that dark prison, who is
to say whether I shall ever make my escape alive,
or if I am so fortunate whether it may not be only
to fall into the hands of my tormentor; or, worse
still, who can say that he is not hidden in some
dark corner of the box?”

“Why, Neddy, one would think that you ex-
pected to find your late master there,” added
Thomas in a milder tone.

** And so I do,” thought I; but how was I to
tell him so ?P

“You need not be afraid, old donkey,” continued
Thomas. ‘He is far enough away now. He
cannot get to you. Come, Neddy—come along;
you will be quite safe and comfortable in there,
and I will give you some corn to eat, and you may
amuse yourself with it during your ride. Come,
Neddy—come along.”

It was impossible to misdoubt the kind tones of
Thomas’s voice. “If he meant any treachery against
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 95

me, he would never speak like that,” thought I.
‘Besides, have not I always found him a true, good
friend, and is it not very wrong not to trust him
now?” and I turned round and looked into the box.
It did not look pleasant, certainly, but after all, I
had lived in worse places, and so summoning up
my resolution, I put one step on the sloping board
that led up to the cell. Dearme! how hollow my
footfall sounded. I did not like it at all, and was
all for drawing back again ; but Thomas was by my
side, and for very shame I did not dare act the
part of a faithless coward, so I took another step,
and then another; still that hollow—hollow sound ;
but it was over now, and I stood inside the box,
and looked round half in terror—half in surprise.
It was not so very bad after all—there were nice
soft-looking sides to the stall, and plenty of clean
straw to lie upon, and Thomas remembered his
promise, and put some corn in the manger, and
then tying me up quite tight, he bid me good-bye.
The doors were shut, and I was left all alone in
the darkness. Soon came a whistle—a shriek, and
then a tremulous motion. Oh, how my heart sank
within me! but there was no escape. I had but
to submit and bide my fate. Then my prison
swang from side to side, and rush—rush—rush—:
roar—ro-r-r—ro-r-r-r—where were we going? I
96 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

knew nothing—remembered nothing—till suddenly
a vibration, a stop. Whirr—whirr—whirr—fainter
grew the sound, till now all again was dead silence.
My box swings round—I feel quite sick with
fright, when open fly the doors, and there stands
Thomas, looking so kind and pleasant—I had
never loved his face so well before.

“Well, Neddy,” he said, as he undid my halter,
itis all over now. We shall soon be at home
again. Ay, do you remember the old place?” he
added, as, leading me out of my prison, I stood
still sniffing in with delight the pure, fresh air of
heaven.

Remember it! I should think so—I knew every
inch of the ground as we drew towards home, and
forgetting all my troubles and sorrows, I kicked
and jumped about as if I was once again the frolic-
some donkey of years gone by. LHven gruff old
Thomas seemed moved by this evidence of my
delight, and throwing off his usual dry, hard man-
ner, he spoke to me so kindly that my heart leaped
again and again with joy; but when at length the
gates of my own dear, dear home came in sight, I
could no longer contain myself, and trotted on-as
fast as my legs could carry me; Thomas letting
go the rein, saying, with a smile,—
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 97

** You know your way now, old fellow, I guess,
and will not run away again, I fancy.”

Open went the gates, and then the avenue was
before me, straight now up to the door-steps,
and whom should I spy standing there but my
mistress and her father, and the strange gentle-
man. Oh! how I kicked up my heels with joy,
and then galloped up the drive as I never thought
my old legs could have galloped more.

You should have heard my mistress’ merry
laugh. It was the pleasantest sound my ears
had listened to for many a long day past, and. you
should have seen how she patted and caressed me,:
and called me her “dear old Tuppy,—her good,
faithful donkey,” adding, ‘“‘ We will never part
again—no, never; will we, Tuppy ?”

I could only rub my nose against her soft, white
hand, and whinny out my joy and gratitude. My
heart was too full; I almost thought it must have
burst from my excess of happiness. And then,
when she led me—she, my own dear mistress her-
self—to the field where I had spent all the first
happy years of my existence, who may describe
the emotions which overpowered me! First, I
galloped round and round the field; then I threw
myself down on the soft green grass, and rolled

H
“98 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

and rolled, and rolled myself again and again in
my ecstasy. Then at last rising up, and looking
round me, I seemed as if I could never tire of gazing
at all the well-remembered spots; every twig in the
hedges seemed like some old. familiar friend; and,
as the birds sang out their merry songs from the
boughs of the trees which had so often sheltered
me, it sounded to me as if they too were carolling
forth my welcome home.

Home! Ah, those who have never known its
want, can never fully appreciate its value; and,
as I lay down to rest that night, it was with
feelings of such overflowing gratitude, as I know
not how to express.

I thought of my mother’s words, and how she
had warned me against the self-willed, presump-
tuous spirit that had made me discontented with
my happy lot. I remembered my own insolence
to herself; and how I had mocked her when she had
foretold that hard blows and bad fare would bring
down my proud spirit, and make me understand
the blessing of my quiet green fields, and tranquil
peaceful home.

“‘T understand it all sure enough now,” thought I,
** and can only humbly hope that what I have lost in
strength and beauty I may have gained in wisdom.
Come what will, it shall not be my fault, if I ever
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY. 99

again lose the ‘home I prized so lightly, regretted
so deeply, and have regained so wonderfully.”
And full of happy thoughts and good resolutions,
I fell into the most peaceful refreshing sleep I had
known for years.
There is but little more to tell. My mistress and
I have never parted since, though I do not live
now in that home of which I have told you, and to
which I was so much attached. I followed my
dear mistress to a new home, but the fields there
were quite as green, and the sunshine was just as
bright, and the air was just as pure, and I soon
learned to love it quite as well as the place which
I had left; and there I have grown old, and grey,
and staid, and I cannot do much work now, but I go
out every day with a group of merry, happy, bright
children, and sometimes one, and sometimes another
rides upon myback, and sometimes two panniers are
thrown across my shoulders, and then, to judge by
the joyous shouts and laughter, there must be
several little folks all taking their ride together ; and
Tuppy is a general favourite, and there ig always
some pleasant treat in store for the old donkey.
No heavier whip ever falls upon his sides than a
bunch of wild flowers, and so well he loves those
children that a daisy chain is bridle enough to guide
him where they will. And his dear mistress, she is
100 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DONKEY.

growing older too, but toTuppy she is still the same.
He cannot see grey hairs or graver brow ; he only
hears the well-remembered voice, the endearing
tones of kindness, the gentle touch of that loving
hand. She says Tuppy shall never leave her; that
whilst she lives he shall never want a home, and that
dying she will commit him to her children’s care.
But I need not cloud our parting, friends, by
thoughts of her death. Long after I am gone to my
rest I trust that gentle lady will be amongst you
with her loving ministrations of peace and good-
will to all. Meanwhile, I thankfully enjoy my
present good, and commend my story to your
notice, in the hope that, whilst listening to a poor
donkey’s voice, you may have learned that con-
tentment with present blessings is great gain; that
patience in adversity is the best and wisest course;
that no experience is so valuable as that which we
buy, and that no misfortune is unmitigated evil
which teaches us to know ourselves, and makes us
grateful to that good Providence which watches
over every work of creation, and guides the uni-
verse with unerring wisdom and untiring love.

THE END.


ORIGINAL JUVENILE LIBRARY.

A CATALOGUE

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NEW WORKS PUBLISHED BY GRIFFITH AND FARRAN, 3

NEW AND POPULAR WORKS.



Memorable Battles in English History.
Where Fought, why Fought, and their Results. With Lives of the
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Our Soldiers ;
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Our Sailors;
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A Hand-Book of the History of the United States,
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By Hueo Rerp, late Principal of Dalhousie College, Halifax, Nova
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My Grandmother’s Budget
of Stories and Verses. By Frances Freevine Broperir, author of
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Price 3s. 6d. cloth; 4s. 6d. coloured, gilt edges.

The Loves of Tom Tucker and Little Bo-Peep.
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Q

Scenes and Stories of the Rhine.

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Nursery Fun;
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Play-Room Stories;
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4 NEW AND INTERESTING WORKS

Fickle Flora,

and her Sea Side Friends. By Emma Davenrort, author of “Live
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The Faithful Hound.

A Story in Verse, founded on fact, By Lavy Taomas. With Illus-
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DEDICATED BY PERMISSION TO ALFRED TENNYSON.

| The Story of King Arthur,

and his Knights of the Round Table. With Six Beautiful Ilustra-

gilt edges.
‘*Heartily glad are we to welcome the glorious old tale in its present shape.”—Gentle-
man’s Magazine.
‘ NEW WORK BY ELWES,
Guy Rivers ;
Or, a Boy’s Struggles in the Great World. By Atrrep Ewes,

Author of “ Ralph Seabrooke,” “ Paul Blake.” etc. With Illustrations
by H. Anzxay. Feap. 8vo. price 5s. cloth; 5s. 6d. gilt edges.

** Mr. Elwes sustains his reputation. The moral tone is excellent, and boys will derive
from it both pleasure and profit.”—-Athenceum.

Ralph Seabrooke;

| Or, The Adventures of a Young Artist in Piedmont and Tuscany.
By Atrrep Exwes, Illustrated by Duptry. Feap. 8vo.; price 5s.
| cloth; 5s. 6d. gilt edges.

Frank and Andrea;

Or Forest Life in the Island fof Sardinia. By Atrrep Erwes. Illus-
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“ The descriptions of Sardinian life and‘scenery are admirable.”—Atheneum.

Paul Blake; .

Or, the Story of a Boy’s Perils in the Islands of Corsica and Monte
Cristo. By Arrrep ELwss, Illustrated by H. AnELAy. Feap. 8yvo,
price 5s. cloth; 5s.6d. cloth, gilt edges.

“This spirited and engaging story will lead our yours friends to a very intimate
acquaintance with the island of Corsica.””—Art Journal.





tions, by G. H. Tuomas. Post 8vo. price 7s. cloth; 9s. coloured,

a






PUBLISHED BY GRIFFITH AND FARRAN. 5



THOMAS HOOD’S DAUCHTER.
Tiny Tadpole;

And other Tales. By Frances FREELING Brovertp, daughter of the

late Thomas Hood. With Illustrations by Hur Broruer, Super--

Royal 16mo. price 3s. 6d. cloth; 4s. 6d. coloured, gilt edges.

« 4 remarkable book, by the brother and sister of a family in which genius and fun are
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Funny Fables for Little Folks.

By Frances Freevine Broprri. Illustrated by her Brother.
Super Royal 16mo. price 2s. 6d. cloth; 3s. 6d. coloured, gilt edges.

“ The Fables contain the happiest mihgling of fun, fancy, humour, and instruction.”—
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CAPTAIN MARRYAT’S DAUGHTER.

Harry at School;

By Emma Marryat. With Illustrations by Aspsoton. Super
Royal 16mo. price 2s. 6d. cloth; 3s. éd. coloured, gilt edges.
“Really good, and fitted to delight little boys.’—Spectaior.

Long Evenings;

Or, Stories for My Little Friends, by Earia Marryar, Illustrated by
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BY THE AUTHOR OF “‘ TRIUMPHS OF STEAM.”

Meadow Lea;

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“ The Triumphs of Steam,” “ Our Eastern Empire.” etc. With Illustra-
tions by Joun Giuwert. Feap. 8yo. price 4s. 6d. cloth; 5s. gilt edges.

® r
Live Toys;
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port. With Illustrations by Harrison Wer. Super Royal 16mo.
price 2s. 6d. cloth; 3s. 6d. coloured, gilt edges.
“ One of the best kind of books for youthful reading.”— Guardian.



\




6 NEW-AND' INTERESTING WORKS



Distant Homes;

Or, the Graham Family in New Zealand. By Mrs. J. E. AyLMER.
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“English children will be delighted with the history of the Graham Family, and be
enabled to form pleasant and truthful conceptions ofthe ‘Distant Homes’ inhabited by

‘ their kindred.”—Athenewm.

Neptune’s Heroes: or The Sea Kings of England;

from Hawkins to Franklin. By W. H. Davenport ApAms. Illustrated
by Morean. Feap. 8v0; price 5s. cloth; 5s. 6d. gilt edges,

‘We trust Old England may ever have writers as ready and able to interpret to her
children the noble lives of her greatest men.”—Atheneum,

Lost in Ceylon;

The Story of a Boy and Girl’s Adventures in the Woods and Wilds
of the Lion King of Kandy. By Witr1amDatroy. Illustrated by
Weir. Feap. 8vo. price 5s. cloth; 5s. 6d. gilt edges.

The White Elephant;

' Or the Hunters of Ava, and the King of the Golden Foot. By
W. Datron. Illustrated by Warr. Feap. 8vo. price 5s. cloth;
5s. 6d. gilt edges.

‘* Full of dash, nerve and spirit, und withal freshness.”—Literary Gazette.

The War Tiger;

Or, The Adventures and Wonderful Fortunes of the Young Sea-Chief
and his Lad Chow. By Wirriam Datron, Illustrated by H. 8.
MELviure.. Feap. 8vo, price 5s. cloth; 5s. 6d. cloth, gilt edges.

“ Illustrated News. a

Holidays Among the Mountains;

Or, Scenes and Stories of Wales. By M. Beraam Epwarps. Illus-
trated by F. J. Sxizu. Super royal 16mo.; price 3s. 6d. cloth; 4s. 6d.
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PUBLISHED BY GRIFFITH AN FARRAN 7

E. LANDELLS.

The Illustrated Paper Model Maker;

Containing Twelve Pictorial Subjects, with Descriptive Letter-press
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Price 2s. in a neat Envelope.

* A most excellent mode of educating both eye and hand in the knowledge of form.’— -
English Churchman.

The Girl’s Own Poy Maker,

And Book of Recreation. By KE. Lanprrzs, Author of “Home
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edition. With 200 Illustrations. Royal 16mo. price 2s. 6d. cloth,

“ A perfect-magazine of information.” —Jllustrated News of the World.



The Boy’s own Toy Maker.

A Practical Illustrated Guide to the useful employment of Leisure
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“A new and valuable form of endless amusement.”—Nonconformist.
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Home Pastime;
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E. Lanperys. New and Cheaper Edition, price 3s. 6d. complete, with
the Cards, and Descriptive Letterpress.

*,* By this novel and ingenious ‘‘ Pastime,” Twelve beautiful Models can
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“ As a delightful exercise of ingenuity, and a most sensible mode of passing a winter’s
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“ Should be in every house blessed with the presence of children,” —The Field.

The Triumphs of Steam ;

Ox, Stories from the Lives of Watt, Arkwright, and Stephenson. With
filustrations by J. Gizpert. Dedicated by: permission to Robert
Stephenson, Esq., M.P. Second edition. Royal 16mo, price 3s. 6d.
cloth; 4s. 6d., coloured, gilt edges.

“ A most delicious volume of examples.”—Art Journal.






ntieopwetin sts Spe a a ee ee ee
8 NEW AND INTERESTING WORKS





Our Eastern Empire;

Or, Stories from the History of British India. Second Edition, with
. Continuation to the Proclamation of Queen Victoria. With Four
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“ These stories are charming, and convey a general view of the progress of our Empire in
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The Martyr Land ;

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price 3s. 6d. cloth.

“While practical lessons run throughout, they are never obtruded; the whole tone is
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Might not Right;
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trated by J. Gilbert. Royal 16mo. price 3s. 6d. cloth; 4s. 6d.
coloured, gilt edges.

“With the fortunes of Columbus, Cortes, and Pizarro, for the staple of these stories, the
writer has succeeded in producing a very interesting volume.” —Jilustrated News.

Tuppy;
Or the Autobiography of a Donkey. By the Author of “ The Triumphs
of Steam,” etc., etc. Illustrated by Harrison Weir. Super Royal
16mo. price 2s. 6d. cloth; 3s. 6d. coloured, gilt edges.

“A very intelligent donkey, worthy of the distinction conferred upon him by the artist.”
—Art Journal.

Hand Shadows,

To be thrown upon the Wall. A Series of Kighteen Original
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A Second Series of Hand Shadows;

With Eighteen New Subjects). By H, Buxsitn. Price 2s. plain;
2s. 6d. coloured.

“Uncommonly clever—some wonderful effects are produced.”—The Press.








PUBLISHED BY CRIFFITH AND FARRAN. 9

THE LATE THOMAS HOOD, ETC.
Fairy Land; ,
Or, Recreation for the Rising Generation, in Prose and Verse. By

Tuomas and Jane Hoop Illustrated by T. Hoop, Jun. Super
royal 16mo; price 3s. 6d. cloth; 4s. 6d. coloured gilt edges.

The Headlong Career and Woful Ending of Preco-

CIOUS PIGGY. Written for his Children, by the late Tuomas Hoop.
With a Preface by his Daughter; and Illustrated by his Son. Third
Edition. Post 4to, fancy boards, price 2s. 6d., coloured.

“ The Illustrations are intensely huniourous.”—The Critic.



The History of a Quartern Loaf.

in Rhymes and Pictures. By Witttam Newman. 12 Illustrations.
Price 6d. plain, 1s. coloured. 2s. 6d. on linen, and bound in cloth.

Uniform in size and price,
The History of a Cup of Tea.
The History of a Scuttle of Coals.
The History of a Lump of Sugar.

A Woman’s Secret;
Or How to Make Home Happy. 23rd Thousand. 18mo. price 6d.
By the same Author, uniform in size and price,

Woman’s Work; or, How she can Help the Sick.
18th Thousand. :
A Chapter of Accidents;
Or, the Mother’s Assistant in cases of Burns, Scalds, Cuts, &c.
Pay To-day, Trust To-morrow;
A Story illustrative of the Evils of the Tally Systen:. 4th Thousand.
Nursery Work;
Or Hannah Baker’s First Place. 4th Thousand.
Family Prayers for Cottage Homes;

With a Few Words cn Prayer, and Select Scripture Passages. Feap.
8yvo.-price 4d. limp cloth.

*.* These little works are admirably adapted for circulation among the working ,

classes.


10 NEW AND INTERESTING WORKS

The Fairy Tales of Science.

\A Book for Youth. By J.C. Broves. With 16 Beautiful Ilustra-
tions by C. H. Bennert. Feap. 8vo, price 5s., cloth; 5s. 6d. gilt edges.

Contents: 1. The Age of Monsters—2. The Amber Spirit.—
3. The Four Elements.—4. The Life of an Atom.—5. A Little Bit.—
6.. Modern Alchemy.—?7. The Magic of the Sunbeam.—8. Two Eyes
Better than One.—9. The Mermaid’s Home.—10. Animated Flowers.—
11. Metamorphoses.—12. The Invisible World.—13. Wonderful Plants.
14. Water Bewitched.—15. Pluto’s Kingdom.—16. Moving Lands.—
17. The Gnomes.—18. A Flight through Space.—19. The Tale of a
Comet.—20. The Wonderful Lamp.

“Science, perhaps, was never made more: attractive and easy of entrance into the
youthful mind.” —The Builder.

“ Altogether the volume is one of the most original, as well as one of the most useful,
books of the season,” —Gentleman’s Magazine. t

The Nine Lives of a Cat;
A Tale of Wonder. Written and Illustrated by C. H. Brnnerr.
Twenty-four Engravings. Imperial 16mo. price 2s. cloth; 2s. 6d.

coloured.

“ Rich in the quaint humour and fancy that a man of genius knows how to spare for the
enlivenment of children.”—Ewxaminer.

Sunday Evenings with Sophia; ;
Or, Little Talks on Great Subjects. A Book for Girls. By Lnonora
G. Bex. Frontispiece by J. ABsoLon. Feap. 8vo, price 2s. 6d. cloth.
“A very suitable gift for a thoughtful girl.”—Bell’s Messenger.

Blind Man’s Holiday;

Or Short Tales for the Nursery. By the Author of ‘“‘ Mia and Charlie,”
“Sidney Grey,” etc. Illustrated by John Absolon. Super Royal
16mo. price 8s. 6d. cloth; 4s. 6d. coloured, gilt edges. :
“ Very true to nature and admirable in feeling.” Guardian.

XN . .

Scenes of Animal Life and Character.
From Nature and Recollection. In Twenty Plates. By J.B. 4to,
price 2s., plain; 2s. 6d., coloured, fancy boards. :

“Truer, heartier, more playful, or more enjoyable sketches of animal life could
scarcely be found anywhere.” —Spectator.

Caw, Caw;

Or, the Chronicles of the Crows. Illustrated by J. B. 4to, price
4s, plain; 2s. 6d. coloured.

Jack Frost and Betty Snow;

With other Tales for Wintry Nights and Rainy Days. Illustrated by
H. Weir. 2s. 6d. cloth; 3s. 6d. coloured, gilt edges.

“The dedication of these pretty tales, prove by whom they are written ; they are inde-
libly stamped with that natural and graceful method of amusing while instructing, which
only persons of genius possess.” — Art Journal.






PUBLISHED BY GRIFFITH AND: FARRAN. 11



W: H- G. KINGSTON’S BOOKS FOR.BOYS'
With Illustrations. Feap. 8vo. price 5s. each, cloth; 5s. 6d. gilt edges.

True Blue;

Or, the Life and Adventures of a British Seaman of the Old School,

‘There is about all Mr. Kingston’s tales a spirit of hopefulness,jhonesty, and cheery
aod principle, which makes them most wholesome, as welljas most interesting reading.”—
7h.

Will Weatherhelm;

Or, the Yarn of an Old Sailor about his. Early Life.and Adventures.

‘ We tried the story on an audience of boys, who one and all declared it to be capital.”
—Atheneum.

Fred Markham in Russia;

Or, the Boy Travellers in the Land of the Czar.

“Most admirably does this book unite a capital narrative, with the communication of
valuable information respecting Russia.”—Nonconformist. ;

Salt Water;

Or Neil D’Arcy’s Sea Life and Adventures. With Eight Illustrations.

‘‘With the exception of Capt. Marryat, we know of no English author who will compare
with Mr. Kingston as a writer of books of nautical adventure.” —Iliustrated News,

Manco, the Peruvian Chief;

With Illustrations by Cart Scumonze.

‘A capital book ; the story being one of much interest, and presenting a good account
of the history and institutions, the customs and manners, of the country.”—Literary Gazette.

Mark Seaworth;
A Tale of the Indian Ocean. By the Author of “ Peter the 'Whaler,”
etc. With Illustrations by J. Assoton. Second Edition.

“No more interesting, nor more safe book, can be put into the hands of youth; and
to boys especially, ‘Mark Seaworth’ will be a treasure of delight.”

—Art Journal.
Peter the Whaler;

His early Life and Adventures in the Arctic Regions. Second Edition.
Illustrations by E. Duncan.
‘A better present for a boy of an active turn of mind could not be found. The tone of
the book is manly, healthful, and vigorous.”— Weekly News.

“A book which the old may, but which the young must, read when they have once
begun it.”’—Athenceum.




12 NEW AND INTERESTING WORKS



Old Nurse’s Book of Rhymes, Jingles, and Dittics.

‘IMustrated by C. H. Bennerr, With Ninety Engravings. Feap. 4to.
price 3s. 6d. cloth, plain, or 6s. coloured.

‘The illustrations are all so replete with fun and imagination, that we scarcely know
who will be most pleased with the book, the good-natured grandfather who gives it, or the
chubby grandchild who gets it, for a Christmas-Box.”—Notes and Queries.

Maud Summers the Sightless :

A Narrative for the Young. Illustrated by Absolon. 33. 6d. cloth;
4s. 6d. coloured, gilt edges.

“‘ A touching and beautiful story.”—Christian Treasury.

Clara Hope;
Or, the Blade and the Ear. By Miss Mityer. With Frontispiece
by Birket Foster. Fcap. 8vo. price 3s. 6d, cloth; 4s. 6d. cloth elegant,
gilt edges.

“A beautiful narrative, showing how bad habits may. be eradicated, and evil tempers
subdued.”--British Mother's Journal, *



The Adventures and Experiences of Biddy Dork-
ING and of the FAT FROG. Edited by Mrs.§.C. Har, Tlustrated
by H. Weir. 2s. 6d. cloth; 3s. 6d. coloured, gilt edges.

“Most amusingly and wittily told."—Morning Herald.

BY THE AUTHOR OF “CAT AND DOG,” ETC.

Historical Acting Charades;

Or, Amusements for Winter Evenings. New Edition. TF eap. 8vo.
price 8s. 6d. cloth; 4s. gilt edges.
‘A rare book for Christmas parties, and of practical value.”—Jllustrated News.

The Story of Jack and the Giants:

With thirty-five Illustrations by Ricsarp Doyrz. Beautifully printed.
New and Cheaper Edition. Feap. 4to. price 2s. 6d. cloth; 3s. 6d.
coloured, extra cloth, gilt edges.

“In Doyle’s drawings we have wonderful conceptions, which will secure the book a

place amongst the treasures of collectors, us well as excite the imaginations of children.”
—Illustrated Times.








PUBLISHED BY GRIFFITH AND FARRAN. 138

Granny’s Wonderful Chair;

And its Tales of Fairy Times, By Frances Browns. With Ilus-
"trations by Kenny Meapows. Small 4to, 3s. 6d. cloth, 4s. 6d. coloured,
gilt edges.

Z One of the happiest blendings of marvel and moral we have ever seen.”—Literary
‘azette,

The Early Dawn;

Or, Stories to Think about. By a Counrry CLercyman. Illus-
trated by H. Werr, etc. Small 4to.; price 2s. 6d. cloth; 3s. 6d.
coloured, gilt edges.

“The matter is both wholesome and instructive, and must fascinate as well as benefit
the young.”—Literarium.

Angelo;

Or, the Pine Forest among the Alps. By Guratpive E. Jewszury,
author of “The Adopted Child,” etc. With Illustrations by Joun
Axzsoton. Small 4to; price 2s. 6d. cloth; 3s. 6d. coloured, gilt edges.

“ As pretty a child’s story as one might look for on a winter’s day.”—Examiner.

Tales of Magic and Meaning.

Written. and Illustrated by ALFRED Crowguiit, Author of “Funny
Leaves for the Younger Branches,” “ The Careless Chicken,” “ Picture
Fables,” etc. Small 4to.; price 3s. 6d. cloth; 4s. 6d. coloured.

“ Cleverly written, abounding in frolic and pathos, and inculcates so pure a moral, that
we must pronounce him a very fortunate little fellow, who catches these ‘Tales of Magic,’
as a windfall from ‘ The Christmas Tree’.’—Atheneum.

Faggots for the Fire Side;

Or, Tales of Fact and Fancy. By Perer Partey. With Twelve
Tinted Illustrations. Foolscap 8vo.; 3s. 6d., cloth; 4s, gilt edges.

“* A new book by Peter Parley is a pleasant greeting for all boys and girls, wherever the
English language is spoken and read. He has a happy method of conveying information,
while seeming to address himself to the imagination.”—The Critic. :




14 _ NEW. AND: INTERESTING WORKS





The Discontented Children ;

And How they were Cured.. By Mary and Exrizapetu’ Kirpy.
Illustrated by H. K. Browne (Phiz.). Second edition, price 2s. 6d.
cloth; 8s. 6d. coloured, gilt edges.

‘We know no better method of banishing ‘discontent’ from school-room and nursery
than by introducing this wise and clever story to their inmates.”"—Art Journal,

‘The Talking Bird;

Or, the Little Girl who knew what was going to happen. By M. and
E. Kirpy. With Illustrations by H. K. Browne (Puiz). Small 4to.
Price 2s. 6d. cloth; 3s. 6d. coloured, gilt edges.

“ The story is ingeniously told, and the moral clearly shown.”—Atheneum.

Julia Maitland;

Or, Pride goes before a Fall. By M.and E. Kirsy. Tlustrated by
Axsoton. Price 2s. 6d. cloth; 3s. 6d. coloured, gilt edges.

“It is nearly such a story as Miss Edgeworth might have written on the same theme.”—
The Press.

Letters from Sarawak,
Addressed to a Child; embracing an Account of the Manners, Cus-
toms, and Religion of the Inhabitants of Borneo, with Incidents of
Missionary Life among the Natives. By Mrs. M‘Doueatt. Fourth
Thousand, with Illustrations. - 3s. 6d. cloth.
A’! is new, interesting, and admirably told.”—Church and State Gazette.



COMICAL PICTURE BOOKS.
Uniform in size with “The Struwwelpeter.”

Each with Sixteen large Coloured Plates, price 2s. 6d., in fancy boards,
or mounted on cloth, 1s. extra.

Picture Fables.

Written and Ilustrated by ALrrep:CRowQuitt..

The Careless Chicken;

By the Baron Krakemsipes. By ALFRED CrowQuiLL.

Funny Leaves for the Younger Branches.

By the Baron Kraxemsipes, of Burstenoudelafen Castle. Illustrated
by ALFRED CrowQuliLL.








PUBLISHED BY GRIFFITH AND FARRAN. 15



Laugh and Grow Wise;

By the Senior Owl of Ivy Hall. With Sixteen large coloured
Plates. Price 2s. 6d. fancy boards; or 3s. 6d. mounted on cloth.

The Remarkable History of the House that Jack

Built. Splendidly Illustrated and magnificently Illuminated by Tar
Son or a Genius. Price 2s. in fancy cover.
‘* Magnificent in suggestion, and most comical in expression !°—Atheneum.

A Peep at the Pixies;

Or, Legends of the West. By Mrs. Bray. Author of “Life of
Stothard,” “Trelawny,” etc., etc. With Illustrations by Phiz. Super-
royal 16mo, price 3s. 6d, cloth; 4s. 6d. coloured, gilt edges.

“A peep at the actual Pixies of Devonshire, faithfully described by Mrs. Bray, is a
treat. Her knowledge of the locality, her affection for her subject, her exquisite feeling
for nature, and her real delight in fairy lore, have given a freshness to the little volume
we did not expect. The notes at the end contain matter of interest for all who feel a
desire to know the origin of such tales and légends.”*—Art Journal.

A BOOK FOR EVERY CHILD.

The Favourite Picture Book;

A Gallery of Delights, designed for the Amusement and Instruction of
the Young. With several Hundred Illustrations from Drawings by
J. Assoton, H. K. Browne (Phiz), J. Girpert, fT. Lanpsrer,
J. Unecu, J. 8. Prour, H. Weir, etc. New Edition. Royal 4to.,
price 3s. 6d., bound in anew and Elegant Cover; 7s. 6d. coloured;
10s. 6d. mounted. on cloth and coloured.



Ocean and her Rulers;

A Narrative of the Nations who have from the earliest ages held do-
minion over the Sea; and comprising a brief History of Navigation.
By Atrrep Exwes. With Frontispiece. Feap. 8vo, 5s. cloth;
5s. 6d. gilt edges.

‘“The volume is replete with valuable and interesting information; and we cordially
recommend it as a useful auxiliary in the school-room, and entertaining companion in the
library.”—Morning Post.

Berries and Blossoms.

A Verse Book for Children. By T. Westwoop. With Title and
‘Frontispiece printed in Colours. Super-royal 16mo, price 3s. 6d.
cloth, gilt edges.




16 NEW AND INTERESTING WORKS



The Wonders of Home, in Eleven Stories.

By Granpratser Grey. With Illustrations. Third and Cheaper
Edition. Royal 16mo., 2s. 6d. cloth; 3s. 6d.“coloured, gilt edges.

Conrests,—1. The Story of a Cup of Tea—2..A Lump of Coal.—s3.
Some Hot Water.—4. A Piece of Sugar.—s. The Milk Jug.—6. A |
Pin.—7. Jenny’s Sash.—8. Harry’s Jacket.—9. A Tumbler.—10. A
Knife.—11. This Book.

“ The idea is excellent, and its execution equally commendable. The subjects are well
selected, and are very happily told in a light yet sensible manner.” — Weekly News.

Cat and Dog;

Or, Memoirs of Puss and the Captain. Illustrated by Weir. Sixth
Edition. Super-royal 16mo, 2s. 6d, cloth; 3s. 6d. coloured, gilt edges.

“The author of this amusing little tale is, evidently, a keen observer of nature. The
illustrations are well executed ; and the moral, which points the tale, is conveyed in the
most attractive form.”—Britannia.

The Doll and Her Friends;

Or, Memoirs of the Lady Seraphina. By the Author of “Cat and
Dog.” Third Edition, With Four Illustrations by H. K. Browne
(Phiz), 2s.6d., cloth; 3s. 6d. coloured, gilt edges.

“Evidently written by one who has brought great powers to bear upon a small matter.”—
Morning Herald.



Tales from Catland;

Dedicated to the Young Kittens of England. By an Oxp Tansy.
Illustrated by H. Weir. Third Edition. Small 4to, 2s. 6d. plain;
3s. 6d. coloured, gilt edges.

“The combination of quiet humour and sound sense has made this one of the pledsantest |
little books of the season.”—Lady’s Newspaper.

The Grateful Sparrow.

A True Story, with Frontispiece. Third Edition. Price 6d. sewed.

How I Became a Governess.

By the Author of “The Grateful Sparrow.” Second Edition.
With Frontispiece. Price 1s. sewed.

Dicky Birds.

A True Story. By the same Author. With Frontispiece. Price 6d.






PUBLISHED BY GRIFFITH AND FARRAN. 17





WORKS BY MRS. R. LEE.

Anecdotes of the Habits and Instincts of Animals.

Third and Cheaper Edition. With Illustrations by Harrison WEIR.
Feap. 8yvo, 3s. 6d. cloth; 4s. gilt edges.

Anecdotes of the Habits and Instincts of Birds,

REPTILES, and FISHES. With Illustrations by Harrison WEIR.
Second and Cheaper Edition. Feap. 8vo, 3s. 6d. cloth; 4s. gilt edges.

*‘ Amusing, instructive, and ably written.”—Literary Gazette.
‘“‘ Mrs. Lee’s authorities—to name only one, Professor Owen—are, for the most part
first-rate.’—Athenceumn.

Twelve Stories of the Sayings and Doings of
ANIMALS. With Illustrations by J. W. Arcuer. Third Edition.
Super-royal 16mo, 2s. 6d. cloth; 3s. 6d. coloured, gilt edges.

“It is just such books as this that educate the imagination of children, and enlist their

sympathies for the brute creation.” —Nonconformist. .

Familiar Natural History.

With Forty-two Illustrations from Original Drawings by Harrison
Weir. Super-royal 16mo, 3s. 6d. cloth; 5s. coloured gilt edges.

Playing at Settlers ;

Or, the Faggot House. Illustrated by Gitzerr. Second Edition.
Price 2s. 6d. cloth; 3s. 6d. coloured, gilt edges. :

Adventures in Australia;

Or, the Wanderings of Captain Spencer in the Bush and the Wilds.
Second Edition. Ilustrated by Prour. Feap. 8vo., 5s. cloth; 5s. 6d.
gilt edges.

“This volume should find a place in every school library ; and it will, we are sure, be a
very welcome and useful prize.” —Zducational Times. :

The African Wanderers;

Or, the ‘Adventures of Carlos and Antonio; embracing interesting
Descriptions of the Manners and Customs of the Western Tribes, and
the Natural Productions of the Country. Third Edition. With Eight
Engravings. Feap. 8vo, 5s. cloth; 5s. 6d. gilt edges.

“ For fascinating adventure, and rapid succession of incident, the volume 1s equal to any
relation of travel we ever read.” —Britannia.

“In strongly recommending this admirable work to the attention of young readers, we
feel that we are rendering a real service to the cause of African civilization.” —Putriot.

Sir Thomas; or, the Adventures of a Cornish

BARONET IN WESTERN AFRICA. With Illustrations by
J. Girperr. Feap. 8vo.; 3s. 6d. cloth.






18 NEW. AND‘INTERESTING WORKS



Harry Hawkins’s H-Book;

Shewing how he learned to aspirate his H’s. Frontispiece by H. Wxrr.
Second Edition. Super-royal 16mo, price 6d.

* No family or school-room within, or indeed beyond, the sound of Bow bells, should be |

without this merry manual.”—Art Journal,

The Family Bible Newly Opened;

With Uncle Goodwin’s account of it. By Jerrerys Taytor, author
of “A Glance at the Globe,” etc. Frontispiece by J. Girsert. Feap.
8vo, 3s. 6d. cloth.

, . A very good account of the Sacred Writings, adapted to the tastes, feelings, and intel-
ligence of young people.”—Eaucational Times.

Kate and Rosalind;

Or, Early Experiences. By the author of “Quicksands on Foreign
Shores,” etc. Feap. 8vo, 8s. 6d. cloth; 4s. gilt edges.

“A book of unusual merit. The story is exceedingly well told, and the characters are
drawn with a freedom and boldness seldom met with.”— Church of England Quarterly.

“* We have not room to exemplify the skill with which Puseyism is tracked and detected.
The Irish scenes are of an excellence that has not been surpassed since the best days of
Miss Edgeworth.”—Fraser’s Magazine.



Good in Everything ;

Or, The Early History of Gilbert Harland. By Mrs. BarwELr,
Author of “Little Lessons for Little Learners,” etc. Second Edition.
With Illustrations by Joun Giutperz. Royal 16mo., 2s. 6d. cloth;
3s.6d., coloured, gilt edges.

“The moral of this exquisite little tale will do more good than a thousand set tasks
abounding with dry and uninteresting truisms.”"—Bell's Messenger.

A Word to the Wise;

. Or, Hints on the Current Improprieties of Expression in Writing and
Speaking. By Parry Gwynne. 10th Thousand. 18mo. price 6d.
sewed, or Ls, cloth. gilt edges.

“All who wish to mind their p’s and g’s should consult this little volume.”--Gentleman’s
Magazine.

“May be advantageously consulted by even the well-educated.”—Athencum.








PUBLISHED BY GRIFFITH AND FARRAN. 19



ELEGANT GIFT FOR A LADY.
Trees, Plants, and Flowers;

Their Beauties, Uses and Influences. By Mrs. R. Lex, Author of
“The African Wanderers,” etc. With beautiful coloured Illustrations
by J. ANDREWS. 8vo, price 10s. 6d., cloth elegant, gilt edges.

“The volume is at once. useful as a botanical work, and exquisite as the ornament of a
boudoir table.’—Britannia, ‘As full of interest as of beauty.”—Art Journal.

NEW AND BEAUTIFUL LIBRARY EDITION.

The Vicar of Wakefield;

A Tale. By Oxtver GorpsmirH. Printed by Whittingham. With

Eight Ilustrations by J. ABSoLon, Square feap. 8yo, price 5s., cloth;

7s. half-bound morocco, Roxburghe style; 10s. 6d. antique morocco.
Mr. Absolon’s graphic sketches add greatly to the interest of the volume: altogether,

it is as pretty an edition of the ‘ Vicar’ as we have seen. Mrs. Primrose herself would
consider it ‘ well dressed.’ "Art Journal.

“ A delightful edition of one of the most delightful of works: the fine old type and thick
paper make this volume attractive to any lover of books.” —Edinburgh Guardian. ;

. WORKS BY MRS. LOUDON.
Domestic Pets;

Their Habits and Management; with Ilustrative Anecdotes. By
Mrs. Loupon. With Engravings from Drawings by Harrison WEIR.
Second Thousand. ° Feap. 8vo, 2s. 6d. cloth. ;

Conrents:—The Dog, Cat, Squirrel, Rabbit, Guinea-Pig, White
Mice, the Parrot and other Talking Birds, Singing Birds, Doves and
Pigeons, Gold and Silver Fish.

“A most attractive and instructive little work. All who study Mrs. Loudon’s pages will
be able to treat their pets with certainty and wisdom.’—Standard of Freedom.

Glimpses of Nature;

And Objects of Interest described during a Visit to the Isle of Wight.
Designed to assist and encourage Young Persons in forming habits of
observation. By Mrs. Lovpox. Second Edition, enlarged. With
Forty-one Illustrations. 8s. 6d. cloth.

“We could not recommend amore valuable little volume. It is full of information, con-
yeyed in the most agreeable manner.”—Literary Gazette.



Tales of School Life.

By Acnzs Loupon, Author of “Tales for Young People.” With Ilus-
trations by Joun Axzsoton. Second Edition. Royal 16mo, 2s. 6d.
plain; 8s. 6d. coloured, gilt edges.

« hese reminiscences of school days will be recognised as truthful pictures of every-day

occurrence. The style is colloquial and pleasant, and therefore well suited to those for
whose perusal it is intended,”—Athenaum.




20 + NEW AND INTERESTING WORKS



MISS JEWSBURY.

Clarissa Donnelly ;

‘Or, The History of an Adopted Child. By Miss Gerarpine FE.
JEwsgury. With an Illustration by Joun Apsoton. Fecap. 8vo,
3s. 6d. cloth; 4s. gilt edges.

© With wonderful power, only to be matched by as admirable a simplicity, Miss Jewsbury

has narrated the history of a child. For nobility of purpose, for simple, nervous writing,
and for artistic construction, it is one of the most valuable works of the day.”—Lady's

Companion.

The Day of a Baby Boy;

A Story for a Young’ Child. By E. Bercer. With Illustrations by
Joun Axsoton. Second Edition. Super-royal 16mo, price 2s. 6d.
cloth; 3s. 6d. coloured, gilt edges.

“A sweet little book for the nursery.”—Christian Times.

Every-Day Things;
Or, Useful Knowledge respecting the principal Animal, Vegetable, and
Mineral Substances in-common use. Written for Young Persons.
Second Edition, revised. 18mo., 1s. 6d. cloth.

‘
—E£vangelical Magazine.

PRICE SIXPENCE EACH, PLAIN; ONE SHILLING, COLOURED.

In Super-Royal 16mo., beautifully printed, each with Seven Illustrations by
Harrison WEIR, and Descriptions by Mrs. Lex.

. BRITISH ANIMALS. First Series.
. BRITISH ANIMALS. Second Series.
. BRITISH BIRDS.
. FOREIGN ANIMALS. First Series.
. FOREIGN ANIMALS. Second Series.
. FOREIGN BIRDS.
*.* Or bound in One Volume under the title of “Familiar Natural
History,” see page 17.

anrhwhdey

Uniform in size and price with the above.

THE FARM’AND ITS SCENES. With Six Pictures from Drawings
by Harrison WEIR.

THE DIVERTING HISTORY OF JOHN GILPIN. With Six Ilus-
trations by Warts Puiniirs.

THE PEACOCK AT HOME, AND BUTTERFLY’S BALL, With
Four Illustrations by Harrison WEIR.




PUBLISHED BY GRIFFITH AND FARRAN. 21



WORKS BY THE AUTHOR OF MAMMA’S BIBLE STORIES.

Fanny and her Mamma;

Or, Easy Lessons for Children. In which it is attempted to bring Scrip-
tural Principles into daily practice. Illustrated by J. Gitzert. Third
Edition. 16mo, 2s. 6d. cloth; 3s. 6d. coloured, gilt edges.

“4 little book in beautiful large clear type, to suit the capacity of infant readers, which
-we can w:th pleasure recommend.” —Christian Ladies’ Magazine.

Short and Simple Prayers,
For the Use of Young Children. With Hymns. Fifth Mdition.
Square 16mo, 1s. 6d. cloth.

“ Well adapted to the capacities of children—beginning with the simplest forms which
the youngest child may lisp at its mother’s knee, and proceeding with those suited to its
gradually advancing age. Special prayers, designed for particular circumstances and
occasions, are added. We cordially recommend the book.”—Christian Guardian,

Mamma’s Bible Stories,
For her Little Boys and Girls, adapted to the capacities of very young
Children. Eleventh Edition, with Twelve Engravings. 2s. 6d. cloth;
3s. 6d. coloured, gilt edges.

A Sequel to Mamma’s Bible Stories.

Fifth Edition. Twelve Illustrations. 2s. 6d. cloth, 3s. 6d. coloured.

Scripture Histories for Little Children.

With Sixteen Illustrations, by Jon Ginpert. Super-royal 16mo,
price 8s. cloth; 4s. 6d. coloured, gilt edges.

Conrents.—The History of Joseph—-History of Moses—History of our
Saviour—The Miracles of Christ.

Sold separately: 6d. each, plain; 1s. coloured.

Bible Scenes ;

Or, Sunday Employment for very young Children. Consisting of
Twelve Coloured Illustrations on Cards, and the History written in
Simple Language. In a neat box, 3s. 6d.; or the Illustrations dis-
sected as a Puzzle, 6s. 6d.

Finst Series: JOSEPH. Srconp Serres: OUR SAVIOUR.

Trp Series: MOSES. Fourti Serms: MIRACLES OF CHRIST.
“Tt is hoped that these ‘Scenes’ may form a useful and interesting addition to the Sab-

bath occupations of the Nursery. From their very earliest infancy little. children will

listen with interest and delight to stories brought thus palpably before their eyes by means

of illustration.” —Prefuce. :
22



NEW AND INTERESTING WORKS



ILLUSTRATED BY GEORGE CRUIKSHANK.

Kit Bam, the British Sinbad;

Or, the Yarns of an Old Mariner. By Mary Cowpen Crarxe, author
of “The Concordance to Shakspeare,” etc. Fceap. 8vo, price 3s..6d.
cloth; 4s. gilt edges.

“A more captivating volume for juvenile recreative reading we never remember to have
seen. It is as wonderful as the ‘Arabian Nights,’ while it is free from the objectionable
matter which characterises the Eastern fiction.”—Standard of Freedom.

“ Cruikshank’s plates are worthy of his genius.””—Ewaminer.

The Favourite Library.

A Series of Works forthe Young; each Volume with an Ilustration
by a well-known Artist. Price 1s. cloth.

1,
. MRS. LEICESTER’S SCHOOL. By Cuartzus and Mary Lams.
. THE HISTORY OF THE ROBINS. By Mrs. Trimmer.

. MEMOIR OF BOB, THE SPOTTED TERRIER.

. KEEPER’S TRAVELS IN SEARCH OF HIS MASTER.

. THE SCOTTISH ORPHANS. By Lapy Sropparr.

. NEVER WRONG; or, THE YOUNG DISPUTANT; and “IT

“IO OP G bb

8.
9.

10.
- HARRY’S HOLIDAY. By Jerrerys Tayzor.
12,

11



THE ESKDALE HERD BOY. By Lapy Sropparr.

WAS ONLY IN FUN.” :
THE LIFE AND PERAMBULATIONS OF A MOUSE.

EASY INTRODUCTION TO THE KNOWLEDGE OF
NATURE. By Mrs. Trimmer.

RIGHT AND WRONG. By the Author of “ Anwayrs Harry.”

SHORT POEMS AND HYMNS FOR CHILDREN.

The above may be had Two Volumes bound in One, at Two Shillings cloth,

ob 0 bo

a

or 2s. 6d. gilt edges, as follows :—

. LADY STODDART’S SCOTTISH TALES.

. ANIMAL HISTORIES. Tue Doc.

. ANIMAL HISTORIES. Tur Roping and Moussz.

. TALES FOR BOYS. Harry’s Hotmay and Never Wrone.
. TALES FOR GIRLS. Mrs. Leicesrer’s Scnoot and Rieur

AND Wrona.

. POETRY AND NATURE. Snort Porms and Triwmer’s

INTRODUCTION.

Stories of Julian and his Playfellows.
Written by His Mamma. With Four Illustrations by. Joun Ansoton,
Second Edition. Small 4to., 2s. 6d., plain; 3s. 6d., coloured, gilt edges,

‘The lessons taught by Julian’s mamma are each fraught with an excellent moral.”—
Morning Advertiser.




PUBLISHED: BY GRIFFITH-AND FARRAN. 23 |



Blades and Flowers.
Poems for Children. Frontispiece by ANELAY. Fcap. 8v0; price 2s. cloth.
“Breathing the same spirit as the Nursery Poems of Jane Taylor.”—Literary Gazette.

Aunt Jane’s Verses for Children.
By Mrs.T.D.Crewpson. Illustrated with twelve beautiful Engravings.
Feap. 8vo; 3s. 6d. cloth.

“A charming little volume, of excellent moral and religious tendency.”’—LEvangelical
Magazine.

Rhymes of Royalty.
‘The History of England in Verse, from the Norman Conquest to the
reign of QUEEN Victoria; with an Appendix, comprising a summary
of the leading events in each reign. Fcap. 8vo, with Frontispiece.
2s. 6d. cloth.

NEW AND CHEAPER EDITION. ~

The Ladies’ Album of Fancy Work.

Consisting of Novel, Elegant, and Usetul Patterns in Knitting, Netting,
Crochet, and Embroidery, printed in Colours. Bound in a beautiful
cover. New Edition. Post 4to, 3s. 6d., gilt edges.

Visits to Beechwood Farm ;
Or, Country Pleasures. By Caruertne M. A. Covrrr. Ilustrations
by Azsoxon. Small 4to, 3s. 6d., plain; 4s. 6d. coloured; gilt edges.

“The work is well calculated to impress upon the minds of the young the superiority of
simple and natural pleasures over those which are artificial.” —Englishwoman’s Magazine.



The Modern British Plutarch ;

Or, Lives of Men distinguished in the recent History of our Country
for their Talents, Virtues and Achievements. By W. C. Tartor, LL.D.
Author of “A Manual of Ancient and Modern History,” ete. 12mo,
Second Thousand, with a new Frontispiece. 4s. 6d. cloth; 5s. gilt edges.

Contents: Arkwright — Burke — Burns — Byron —Canning—Earl
of Chatham — Adam ° Clarke — Clive — Captain Cook — Cowper —
Crabbe — Davy — Eldon— Erskine—Fox -- Franklin — Goldsmith —
Earl Grey — Warren Hastings — Heber — Howard — Jenner — Sir
W. Jones— Mackintosh—H. Martyn—Sir J. Moore— Nelson— Pitt
—Romilly — Sir. W. Scott — Sheridan — Smeaton— Watt — Marquis
of Wellesley — Wilberforce — Wilkie — Wellington.

“A work which will be welcomed in any circle of intelligent young persons.” —British
Quarterly Review.


24° NEW AND INTERESTING WORKS



Home Amusements.
A Choice Collection of Riddles, Charades, Conundrums, Parlour
Games, and Forfeits. By Peter Puzziewett, Esq., of Rebus Hall.
‘New Edition, revised and enlarged, with Frontispiece by H. K.
Browne (Phiz). 16mo, 2s. 6d. cloth.

Early Days of English Princes.
By Mrs. Russert Gray. Dedicated by permission to:the Duchess of
Roxburgh. With Illustrations by Jonn Franxuix. Small 4to.,
8s. 6d. cloth; 4s. 6d. coloured, gilt edges.

“Just the book for giving children some first notions of English history, as the person-
ages it speaks about are themselves young.”— Manchester Examiner.

First Steps in Scottish History,
By Miss Ropwett, Author of “ First Steps to English History.” With
Ten Illustrations by WEIGALL. 16mo, 3s. 6d. cloth; 4s. 6d. coloured.

“It is the first popular book in which we have seen the outlines of the early history ot
the Scottish tribes exhibited with anything like accuracy.”—Glasgow Constitutional.

“The work is throughout agreeably and lucidly written.”—Midland Counties Herald.

London Cries and Public Edifices.

Dlustrated in Twenty-four Engravings by Luxe Liawer; with descrip-
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PUBLISHED BY GRIFFITH AND FARRAN. 25



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Tales from the Court of Oberon.
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True Stories from Modern History,
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True Stories from English History,

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Stories from the Old and New Testaments,

On an improved plan. By the Rev. B. H. Drarer. With 48 En-
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26 NEW. AND. INTERESTING..WORKS



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One Thousand Arithmetical Tests;

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Elizabeth’s Hospital, Bristol. Price 1s. 6d. cloth.

*,*. Answers to the above, 1s. 6d. cloth.

THE ABBE GAULTIER’S GEOGRAPHICAL WORKS.

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u. An Atlas.

Adapted to the Abbé Gaultier’s Geographical Games, consisting of 8
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Butler’s Outline Maps, and Key;
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Rowbotham’s New and Easy Method of Learning
the FRENCH GENDERS. New Edition. 6d.

Bellenger’s French Word and Phrase-book.

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- PUBLISHED BY GRIFFITH’ AND FARRAN. 27



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Le Babillard.

An Amusing Introduction to the French Language. By a French
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Der Schwiitzer ;
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28 NEW AND INTERESTING WORKS



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PUBLISHED BY GRIFFITH AND FARRAN. 29

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The Ladder to Learning.

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Little Lessons for Little Learners.

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30 ~NEW AND‘ INTERESTING: WORKS



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Short Tales.

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Stories of Edward and his little Friends.

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Sunday Lessons for little Children.

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A Visit to Grove Cottage,

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Se





\


PUBLISHED BY GRIFFITH’ AND. -FARRAN: ' 81

Dissections for Young Children;
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1. ScENES FROM THE Lives oF JosEPH AND Moszs.
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32 WORKS PUBLISHED BY GRIFFITH AND FARRAN.



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