CHAP. XV. More than one Surprise.

I should deeply regret, if any thing I have said of myself should dispose my readers to think me a censorious Ass; nay, it would vex me if I thought any one could justly accuse me of caprice. Yet, I know not how far I shall stand acquitted to the juvenile world, when I declare, that in less than a week after my arrival at Kensington, my renovated health and improved spirits, by leading me to look out of myself, presented objects which called forth my disapprobation, and exceedingly offended my ideas of propriety. It may be argued, that having associated, with the Carter family and other Westminster gentry, I ought to have been lenient towards less conspicuous personages. Allow me to say, that in proportion as people are removed from the more immediate pressure of poverty, we expect to see some of that gratitude, those attentions to the wants of others, which make prosperity doubly valuable. My mistress was what is called a hard-working woman, viz. she employed a number of hands, and in order not to lose money, made no difference between Sunday and other days. Though she paid her assistants regularly, it was always at a lower rate than others paid; and such was her fear of being cheated, I really think she was more miserable while gaining money, than thousands who are in actual want of a shilling. I soon learned, it was to her taste for bargains I owed my station in her family: consequently, my increasing strength was matter of triumph to one who placed all to the account of her own foresight, rather than the real cause. I could not respect this woman: she had not an atom of sympathy in her nature. And though I fed well, I did not feel in the smallest degree, indebted to her care; the season was luxuriant, and the field in which I resided was not her entire property.

The Donkey of a neighbour shared my pasturage; a circumstance which helped to restore me to cheerfulness. He was intelligent and amusing, and used to relate the occurrences of each day as they arose. His immediate employment was that of carrying goods for a small grocer. It was from him I learned the character of Mrs. Dawes. Once put upon one’s guard, every thing tends to confirm or controvert our suspicions. I was soon convinced he was right. If my mistress was called away for half an hour, her poor servants took a little respite, or enjoyed a laugh amongst themselves; for I should have told you, Mrs. Dawes was an enemy to mirth in every shape. I used to watch these poor labourers with lively emotion, and often as I stood gazing at them, have I heard them say, They worked harder than horses, but never could give satisfaction to their employer. My own fate compared with these women’s was bliss; in fact, there were only three days in the week in which my services were required; and though my knees never acquired their former strength, I was then fully able to get through my appointed duties. The natural character of any animal is frequently obscured by the circumstances of situation; the creature himself often doubting whether he has not mistaken his own feelings and tastes.

Poverty and low life had given me this sort of impression. I had sedulously avoided the contamination too often produced by “evil communication,” but with that ennui inseparable from an English Ass, believed it impossible I could ever be cheerful again. Vivacity was certainly a striking feature in my character; it must have been a radical quality in my disposition,—for neither broken knees nor past experience could teach me to be grave when I felt myself equal to a frolic. One sunny morning, perceiving the drying ground full of linen, whose whiteness almost dazzled the sight, I walked round the field admiring the regularity of the lines; on a nearer approach, I observed that some of the articles were of an immense size, suspended over two lines, forming beautiful avenues beneath. The whim seized me, that I should like to walk in these lovely alcoves: when, opposing my shoulders to some weak palings, they gave way and in I marched. Nothing could exceed my delight on finding myself enclosed within these tents; I wandered from one path to another, snuffing the freshness of the gale which gently wafted my covering to and fro, when a screaming amongst the women startled me. I stood transfixed, hoping I was screened from detection, and not quite certain that my vagary had caused their alarm. Could any thing be more silly than my conduct? I forgot that my legs were exposed to view; and not until I was compelled to exert them in running from my assailants did I discover my error. Perhaps a more laughable scene has seldom been witnessed. Figure to yourselves half-a-dozen women armed with mops, clothes-sticks and wet linen, and think you behold me, running up one path and down another, the women laughing all the time as though they enjoyed this part of the frolic as much as I had done the former. In the midst of our contest Mrs. Dawes returned from an errand. Her voice struck terror into the cheerful group; each was accused of having left the gate open. I grieved at this, and making a sudden spring rushed through another part of the palings, effecting my escape, but at the expense of my poor knees, which were again seriously injured. Mrs. Dawes followed, and reviling me as a mischievous brute, gave me some severe blows with one of the broken palings. Resistance was out of my power—I could scarcely stand; and indeed such was my consciousness on this occasion, I almost thought I deserved the chastisement she inflicted on me.

There was nothing miserly in the blows of this lady: she dealt them most liberally, I assure you. But when I heard her say, “all the bed-furniture must be re-washed,” I cannot describe my regrets. It was in vain the women examined and declared they were not in the least soiled—she would be obeyed. This tyranny completely disgusted me; and I believe I should have taken a resolution never again to indulge in a frolic, however innocent, had not Mrs. Dawes received a letter which caused her immediate departure for Town. The women took advantage of this, and she had scarcely left the house, when the curtains were replaced on the lines. I had now leisure to think of the consequences of my folly. My lameness was really very painful: ah! how I dreaded the idea of dragging a load; convinced as I was, that my mistress would not fail to reproach me, if I experienced not more lively proofs of her temper.

My mode of life at this period might be called purely domestic—I saw so much of the household arrangements, and was constantly within hearing of its concerns. Task-masters and mistresses owe little to the zeal of their slaves; and though in this happy country the whip is reserved for unfortunate quadrupeds, the tongue, that goading weapon (when unfeelingly exercised,) though it enforces obedience never claims esteem.

The character of Mrs. Dawes was now severely handled by her assistants. I had heard an old adage, viz. “When the cat’s away, the mice will play.” “I must just run and see if my boys are come from school,” said one of the women; “and I,” said another, “must tell the baker to save me a stale loaf:” to be brief, all, save one woman, departed.

This was undoubtedly wrong; but there was some apology for these persons, inasmuch, as I have good reason for thinking they were actually employed as they said. I stood looking at the chasm I had made in the palings, when I saw a man enter the drying-ground: he walked upon tip-toe, and began to clear the lines. I thought this good-natured, being always pleased to see women spared unnecessary fatigue. An enthusiastic Donkey, like other animals of a similar description, is apt to evince its approbation in some way or other. I thought I could do no less than regard this kind stranger attentively: I dare say there was a strong expression of sensibility in my countenance at the moment. I wished to catch his eye, not in the vain hope of exciting his sympathy—that I positively deny: no, it was a simple tribute of silent admiration I intended to bestow on him. I ran forward—he started a few paces—then turning, with a ferocious grin menaced me, but it was by action only. Conceive my dismay, when I discovered in this active personage the features of the villanous Jenkins! What could a poor Donkey do?—It was not a case in which braying could be serviceable. Unintentionally I adopted a line of conduct which rescued my mistress from an immense loss. This man had always been my terror; his threatning aspect on the present occasion revived that fear he was but too well calculated to inspire:—hastening from his scowling glance I ran towards the house—startled the solitary woman, who, raising her eyes, beheld the depredator, and instantly gave the alarm.

Jenkins had carried off a large bundle, and would have escaped detection, had not the other women been near at hand, and hearing the cry of “Stop thief!” actually seized his person. I saw him brought back, followed by a mob; all was confusion: no one knew how to act till an officer of justice was summoned. The guilty Jenkins was then conveyed to a place of confinement, and the frightened women were left to account for their absence. The exact result of this business never reached me: I conclude their excuses were not accepted, as I saw strangers in their place next day. Jenkins only escaped condign punishment from the circumstance of the linen he had stolen being dry:—a point in law certainly beyond my comprehension, though highly grateful to my feelings when I recollected his amiable aunt. He was transported for seven years. When this sentence reached my ears, I could not help breathing a wish, that a change of climate might produce that alteration in his conduct that might ultimately lead to reformation. My Donkey friend on this evening appeared much depressed: I delicately sought his confidence, when, with a sigh, he exclaimed,

“Your present life leaves you at liberty to enter into the concerns of man, while I am wholly occupied by the oppressions under which my own species languish.”

“My dear friend,” I replied, “surely you cannot doubt my Donkeyish sympathy? I am an Ass, and nothing that relates to Asses is indifferent to me.”

“Spoken like yourself,” resumed Bobby. “I met an old friend to-day whose sufferings have touched me keenly: I remember him one of the strongest Asses I ever saw—indifferent to labour, cheerful, patient; in short, quite a perfect animal. This morning I saw him feeble and almost sinking for want of sustenance, dragging a load of wood, under which his legs trembled, yet he had some miles to go. When I expressed my sorrow at seeing him in this situation, he smiled calmly; said, there was nothing remarkable in his fate, that we were destined to labour, and should endeavour to bear it with gratitude.”

“Such characters make one ashamed of oneself,” replied I; “but if your friend has escaped broken knees, he is probably as equal to his station as I who am young and apparently healthy.”

Bob smiled. “Then you take no account of age,” said he, “nor think perhaps that quiet and repose would be acceptable to an old Ass?”

“You mistake me, my dear Sir; I only suggested the possibility of your friend’s good constitution supporting him under difficulties my shattered limbs could not endure.”

“The truth is, my dear Jemmy, we are all prone to consider our own misfortunes too deeply. I grant yours is a case that must excite fears for the future, but we must not rob the present hour of its enjoyment in order to speculate on an issue which may never arrive. There is a degree of selfishness in this, unworthy of your character: forgive my freedom; did I esteem you less, I should not have presumed to reprehend your sentiments.”

“A thousand thanks, my kind Mentor,” sighed I, and I rubbed my nose against his neck in token of my perfect gratitude. “I stand corrected; I fear it is too true that debility renders us irritable and partially selfish; but I am a fortunate Donkey in meeting such a friend, I could almost think, while I listen to you, that my early instructor the excellent Balaam, was before me.”

“Balaam!” exclaimed Bobby, “did you say Balaam?”

I answered in the affirmative.

“O Jemmy,” continued my friend, “it is for that inestimable Ass I am now grieving! Yes, it was he whom I met with this morning; but give me the history of your acquaintance; I am impatient to hear when and where your friendship began.”

As well as my feelings would permit, I complied. Bob was all attention, only interrupting me to express his approbation of the justice with which I delineated the character of our mutual friend.

“My mother should have been his wife,” resumed Bobby. “I have heard he was the most lively Ass imaginable, until disappointment somewhat soured his temper. I owe him infinite obligations; forgetting the injury he had sustained in my mother’s broken faith, he has ever shewn me the greatest tenderness; and when my father deserted us, by constantly making me his companion, attracted the notice of his master, who eventually received me into his service. Fate removed me from his protection, but I have never ceased to retain a just sense of his virtues. But what are words,—or what will gratitude avail?—He is doomed to incessant slavery! Alas! if his own strong mind were not his best support how pitiable were his situation! As it is, I question whether he would not reprobate that sensibility which leads us to lament irremediable evils, rather than strive to bear up against them.”

You may be sure I listened to this admirable model of my esteemed old friend with all the attention he deserved. Yet, such was my natural love of inquiry, I could not help wishing to be informed respecting those circumstances that had brought Balaam to London.

Bobby could give me no light on this subject, further, than that he now resided at Hampstead.

In this instance, as in many that preceded it, I felt the disadvantage we labour under in being ignorant of geography. I believe few animals are more sagacious in finding their homes than Asses: but this is a species of local sagacity that scarcely soars beyond instinct. What am I saying?—Instinct is at once our limit and our bliss: did we possess higher attributes, Nature, jealous of her rights, would lead us to rebel, and counteract those separations to which we are invariably doomed. But as vague wishes are confined to no particular species of animal, I hope mine will meet indulgence; more especially when it is remembered, that friendship is an active principle, “never easy when a friend’s distressed,” bold in its designs, and however well-intentioned, not always reasonable in its speculations.

Had I known how to find my way to Hampstead, and entertained no fear of being stopped on the road—not by highwaymen nor footpads—but as a strayed Ass, and perhaps put into the pound, I certainly should have decamped that evening in spite of my broken knees: but I was a hired slave, and was yet to endure my share of Mrs. Dawes’ tyranny.

There was a luxury however in talking of dear Balaam: Bobby promised me, that if chance again brought them together, he would not fail to convey my dutiful remembrances to the worthy old Ass.

It is surprising to think, with what different sentiments one regards the same character at distinct periods of time. I who had presumed to arraign the justice of Balaam—who had thought him severe if not illiberal—I now saw him as he really was, a very superior Donkey. His cautions were the result of observation—his warnings, invaluable lights to those who had sense enough to heed them—and that peculiar art with which he drew aside the veil that concealed follies which escaped the notice of less sagacious Asses, was well calculated to repress the simple credulity of the trusting, inexperienced Donkey. I blush to think I ever breathed a censure against this venerable animal.