CHAP. XVI. A Fair and an Elopement.

When the head of a family is distinguished for ill humour, it rarely happens that the dumb dependants escape its influence. I had felt the utmost commiseration for a poor dog that was chained to his kennel and most sparingly fed by a mistress, who yet expected him to be vigilant in his office of watching the clothes; and in the simplicity of my heart, wondered he made no effort to absolve himself from so vile a bondage, when I was doomed to experience a similar kind of confinement. I beseech you not to suppose I incurred this punishment by any new frolic—in fact, my spirits at this period were particularly low:—no, it was the parsimonious disposition of Mrs. Dawes that led to this result. The palings remained some time as I had left them, until her landlord, paying her a visit, made some remarks which compelled her to have them repaired. The expense could not be considerable, though I heard her tease the carpenter and declare, he was making a job of it because she was a lone woman. The man denied the charge, and hastened his work, glad no doubt to be released from her voluble complaints: but, in order to prevent any future transgressions on my part, a rope was thrown over my neck and tied to a tree—thus confining my exercise within its limits. I felt this as the most pointed insult I had ever encountered, nor could I bear the idea of meeting Bobby under so painful a degradation. I was boisterous at first, kicked up my heels, brayed, and in short, shewed every disposition to resist: alas! what imbecile creatures we are! What is our strength opposed to the ingenuity of the rational creation! But it was hard to reflect that the very quality which made us useful to our employers, should thus be rendered negative when our own comfort was the consideration. Nor could I look around me without anticipating the day when, having eaten to the length of my rope, I might be starved in the view of plenty.

I knew Mrs. Dawes practised this sort of self-denial, scarcely allowing herself the necessaries of life: this was no rule for me; I was not a glutton, but most assuredly I had no liking to the Pythagorean system. Ere evening arrived I had changed my mind, and longed to consult with Bob respecting this new misfortune. So true it is, that the consolations of friendship are a balm for almost every ill. Bobby came home later than usual—I heard his footsteps—but could not, as was my custom, meet him half way. The worthy fellow was grieved to find me under such a restraint: but here his good sense did not forsake him; he would not allow that I was the most unfortunate Donkey in existence, nor listen to my passionate regrets at the loss of my liberty.

“This is weak in the extreme,” said he; “liberty is undoubtedly a privilege of incalculable worth; but you breathe the fresh air, are in no immediate want of food, and your occasional duties will vary the scene a little. Think of the female Ass, so often doomed to drag a chained log not only within a limited space, but frequently is this chain connected with the head, thus holding her in a state of inconceivable uncomfortableness!”

“I have heard of such things,” said I; “thank fortune I never saw a lady Ass in this situation, nor can I understand why such a refinement in cruelty should be inflicted on a female.”

“She is thus punished,” resumed Bobby, “because her maternal feelings would lead her to pursue her purloined offspring. There is no danger nor difficulty from which a female Ass would shrink, where the safety of her young ones is concerned. That her estate on many occasions is deplorable, no one will deny: it of course excites our sympathy; but even rational animals have taken note of it. I heard our friend Balaam repeat some lines on this subject which pleased me excessively.”

I besought Bobby to recite them. He complied as follows:—

“Very natural,” sighed I, “yes, yes, I can feel the full force of this description, ‘the tempting green,’ beyond the reach of a hungry Donkey, must be a most fascinating prospect.”

“Poor Balaam,” retorted Bobby in an impressive tone, “how does he fare to-night? Possessing this coveted liberty, he perhaps wants strength to seek the requisite nourishment.”

I felt myself blush, from the tip of my ears to the point of my chin, which is giving an uncommon latitude to this most becoming of all beauties.

“Say no more,” said I with emotion, “you shall be spared the trouble of reproving me on this subject again; have you heard of dear Balaam? Is he better?”

“I did not see him,” replied Bobby, “but his fellow-labourer Mr. Juba, overtook me this morning in Oxford Street, and tells me our friend was too ill to come to town to-day.”

In spite of my promise to bear my present inthralment patiently, this intimation threw me into an agony not to be described.

“Help me to break these ignoble fetters,” said I, “that I may flee to my suffering friend!”

“I am afraid Juba knew you better than I thought he did,” retorted Bobby,—“I have been your defender Jemmy; but he is right, your heart may be, I believe it is good, your judgment is very defective.”

“Juba was always my enemy,” I replied; “he, is a Donkey of the meanest capacity, grovelling in his ideas, and can never hope to rise in the world;—I confess, I should not have expected you to listen to such an Ass.”

“I did not give entire credit to his assertions,” continued Bobby, “not for the reasons you assign, for though Juba is an unpolished Donkey, he possesses that most essential of all qualifications, useful or common sense, and will succeed, where hundreds would starve—but he was angry, and I never rely too implicitly on the depositions of angry Donkeys.”

“I shall never be wise,” said I. “O! most excellent pupil of my respected old friend, bear with my follies,—and tell me, if it is utterly impossible for me to reach the residence of Balaam!”

Bobby could not encourage me to hope such a scheme was practicable; but his natural goodness of heart led him to applaud my zeal in this particular, and ere I closed my eyes to dream the usual dream of a prisoner, namely, of liberty, he quieted my scruples respecting himself.

“You are not singular,” said he, “it may require some courage to speak simple truths; but the listener who is to profit by advice must possess a species of courage seldom to be met with at your time of life:—nothing but a perfect knowledge of self, can render us patient of reproof; and I am afraid this is an acquaintance we rarely make until the benefits to be derived from it become inconsequential—because we adopt the means when the end must be too transient to do us credit.”

This home appeal produced the most unqualified candour on my part.—I am not conscious that I concealed the most trivial failing in my temper or dispositions. Bob applauded my ingenuousness, and thus ended our conference.

Well, next morning while we were at breakfast, Mrs. Dawes brought a man into the field who, approaching me, began to examine my knees.

“I’ll warrant I deliver him up as sound as I found him,” said he, “so then the bargain’s struck, missus.”

“Why as for that, if you’ve a mind to have him for good and all, I don’t care; I can always hire a horse when I want one,” replied my mistress.

“Why that wouldn’t suit me ye see; I’ve no pasturage, and as I say, it’s a mortal sin to keep a dumb beast and not give it enough to eat.”

Mrs. Dawes was silent—and the man proceeded—“No! for three days, I should like to have him, the fair only lasts three days.”

I felt a cold shiver at the bare mention of a fair. “Oh!” thinks I, “if there are Races at this place as at Tunbridge, what shall I do?—And again, if it really was the penny trumpet, that caused my failure, what may I not expect to meet in the environs of London, where, of course, every species toy is on a more grand scale!”

“His knees are terribly broken to be sure,” resumed the man, as he released me from the rope.

My vanity instantly fled—who would think of proposing a broken-kneed Donkey as a Racer?

I wonder whether rational beings make mistakes of this nature, and reckon upon their beauties and attractive qualities, when they no longer exist:—if so, they, and they only will understand the awkwardness of my feelings at this moment. Bobby smiled significantly. “You are vastly clever indeed, Mr. Bob,” thought I, “if you can guess my secret thoughts;”—and I raised my head in the expectation of being reproved, when the kind creature in a half whisper informed me—that if my destination was West-end Fair, it was in the neighbourhood of Hampstead, and I might probably meet Juba, and gain some intelligence respecting Balaam.—Again I blushed, and it was a blush of shame, to think I had judged this amiable Donkey’s feelings by my own disappointed, or rather humbled vanity. We parted,—and I had soon the pleasure to hear, West-end was to be the theatre of my actions. Mr. Ford my temporary master, soon harnessed me to a miserably shattered looking vehicle; but though I doubted its security, there were four full-grown persons who held a contrary opinion, they ascended the cart by a ladder—to use the language of Gilpin,

Dashing, however, was out of the question with me. Fortunately my driver was humane; and as he walked by my side, my incapacity was not suspected for some time. At length a lady exclaimed, “you had better come in, we can make room for you, Mr. Ford, and then we can whip up the Donkey.”

Ford declined the offer, perhaps conscious that I should disappoint their expectation if he complied, though his answer carried a better interpretation. “No! no!” said he. “We must think of the Donkey too, four to one, is enough in all conscience, besides, I shall want him when I get there.”

The party were very impatient, continually inquiring how far we had to go, &c. &c. Ford was civil in his replies, and by hinting, that it was better to go at an equal pace, than to hurry and perhaps have me founder on the road, reconciled them to my certainly tedious pace. A case in point soon presented itself,—we had past through Kilborn Turnpike, when a crowd of people in the road obstructed our progress. I heard a whip used with great vehemence,—Ford stepped forward, the crowd made way for him,—when I saw a wretched Donkey writhing beneath the hand of its cruel owner. A party of men, women and children stood around, who it appeared had been the load with which this creature’s strength could not contend; and for this, his master chose to wound him, almost to flaying, in order of course, to increase his capability.

I admit, that there was a great degree of obstinacy in this animal, at least, what you would call stubbornness. For, so every opposition of an irrational animal is termed by your genus; with us, it has a different meaning,—we call it self-defence: and though greatly varying from your acceptation of this natural right, we think obstinacy at times stands us in good need. The master, who finds blows do not answer his purpose, will adopt another line of conduct. Granting that we suffer in these amiable indulgences of our owners, I speak from conviction,—it is better to get one or two sound drubbings in the way of experiment, than to erect our masters as licensed savages by patiently bearing every blow, that temper or malice can inflict. The poor Ass in question, was quite a Spartan in his way, he stood immoveable, neither heeding the taunts of his master, nor the impatient complaints of the party whose pleasure he retarded.

“Why master Dawson,” said Ford—“is this the way to get any service of this poor beast? Lend me the reins; I’ll warrant he’ll go quiet enough with kind usage.”

“You don’t know him,” replied Dawson, “but come let’s see what you can do with him:” and he resigned the bridle with a sneer. Ford began by patting the Ass on the head, coaxing him, and then with a gentle flap of the whip, ran by his side. The Donkey instantly accommodated himself to this pace, to the no small surprise of the by-standers. Dawson was vexed; he had been proved incompetent to manage an Ass—and no doubt the poor fellow paid for it when we left them, which we soon did, I, mentally eulogizing the judicious and humane Mr. Ford, with whom I should have thought myself happy to pass the remainder of my days. That was not to be.

But to proceed—we reached the fair, Ford during the remainder of our journey, enforcing the policy as well as the justice of treating dumb beasts with kindness.

“I always find my account in it,” said he, “slow and sure is my way, and if the beast wont work with good words, why I am sure he wont with bad.” And unloosing my harness, he gave me an excellent feed of Hay, which tended greatly to raise my spirits and renew my strength.

The fair was excessively amusing, and might have captivated any Donkey whose thoughts were given to the scene,—mine were intent on Balaam, or in the event of his inability to appear in public, on Juba, whom I resolved to meet with all possible cordiality. But a rustic Donkey is quite a novice in a certain sphere. It is only in London, we acquire a knowledge of life. I had never heard of penny rides in a donkey cart,—nor knew that a dozen children might be crammed into a carriage scarcely large enough to hold half the number conveniently. It was at West-end fair I was feelingly taught to understand this item.

Though my master superintended these gambols, and was really very considerate, he could not shield me from the fatigue and lassitude attendant on such constant exertion. And as each new load I took up, brought fresh spirits, and expected proportioned enjoyment, I dreaded, least my failure should injure Mr. Ford. While I was anticipating disgrace, a friendly shower of rain compelled every body to seek shelter; and I was unloosed from the cart and placed under a canvass shed. Here I found Juba, who like myself, looked fagged to death. I soon discovered I was indebted to Bobby’s good offices, by the graceful manner in which Juba met my advances—Yes, I say graceful manner, for never surely was Ass so much improved as Juba since I saw him last. We talked of Balaam, and I heard with delight, he was rather better that morning. Juba described his residence, and when I found it was not much above a mile from West-end my active mind was planning how to catch a glimpse of my respected old friend.

Great therefore was my delight, when upon the re-appearance of the sun, and my resumption of my toil, I heard Ford tell a friend, he should remain at West-end till the fair was over. I weighed my projected elopement by every bearing of gratitude, and could find none sufficiently powerful to deter me from its prosecution. Mr. Ford was a good man, but he was a new friend. Balaam claimed my utmost deference and esteem; I owed him obligations innumerable; and as I fully proposed returning to my new master, felt I was acting no dishonourable part.

Ah! how I longed for the shadows of evening to fall; when, left to myself, I might put my design into execution! It was late ere this happy moment arrived—and when it came, I found I should have many difficulties to encounter. In the first place, the fair continued to be illuminated till nearly midnight,—secondly, I was in a field surrounded by a high bank and a well-secured gate,—and thirdly, there were other animals besides myself within this enclosure. I imagine that I took a short nap, for on a sudden I was startled by some noise, and on looking around found the fair was in darkness, and the sky spangled with stars. “This, then, is the moment,” thought I; and creeping towards the bank, I placed my fore-feet in the earth and peeped over. The regular snoring of a pig (as I imagined,) met my ear,—“then I am safe,” I continued, “for dirty as these animals are, they do not absolutely sleep in ditches;” and with an agility quite extraordinary considering the fatigue I had undergone, I reached the summit, descended a few paces on the other side, still encouraged by the somnific harmony of the pig, when, finding the earth moist towards the bottom, I hesitated,—it began to give way, my feet were sliding, and the smell of stagnant water offended my nose. Retreat was impracticable. I recollected that the she Ass would encounter any difficulty in behalf of her young ones, and even from attachment to her master; and making a plunge, gained Terra Firma. Scarcely had I time to congratulate myself on this exploit, ere I stumbled over something soft—the snoring instantly ceased, and the voice of a man vociferated, “Murder! thieves! help!” I took to my heels, not stopping to take breath until out of hearing of these appalling sounds. It was impossible to refrain from smiling at my mistake. There could be no doubt I had taken this gentleman for a pig! But time was precious, and I dared not indulge the mirth to which this circumstance gave rise. Hampstead church steeple was to be my guide, the night was yet too dark to direct me accurately; so turning to a small common in my way, I endeavoured to cleanse myself from the contamination of the odious ditch.

At that moment the church clock struck four,—I pricked up my ears and followed the sound. The grey light of morn was beginning to unveil the hill—the prospect refreshed my spirits—and as I trotted on, I could not help rejoicing, that so pleasant a spot was the residence of the invalid Balaam. “How surprised he will be!” would I say to myself. “Yes, I know he will be delighted to see me, when I convince him I have no intention to desert my present employer.” He was surprised! but I must reserve that and another adventure for a new chapter.