Charles.—Come along, let us choose our donkeys. I’ll begin by taking this one (pointing me out with his finger).
“Yes, you always take what you think is the best,” said the six children all at once. “We must draw lots.”
Charles.—How can we draw lots, Caroline? Can we put the donkeys in a bag and draw them out like marbles?
Anthony.—Ha! ha! ha! The idea of donkeys in a bag! As if one could not number them 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6. Put the numbers in a bag and draw them out as they come.
“That is so, that is so,” cried the five others. “Ernest, make the number slips while we write them on the backs of the donkeys.”
“These children are stupid,” said I to myself; “if they had the sense of a donkey, instead of giving themselves the trouble of writing the numbers on our backs, they would simply place us along the wall; then the first would be 1, the second 2, and so on.”
Meanwhile Anthony had brought a large piece of charcoal. I was the first. He wrote a large 1 on my flank; while he was writing 2 on that of my comrade, I shook myself to show him that his invention was not very clever. In a moment the 1 had disappeared. “Stupid,” cried he, “I must begin again.”
While he was doing his number 1 over again, my comrade, who had seen me, and who was clever, shook himself in his turn. There was the 2 gone. Then Anthony began to get angry, and the others laughed and teased him. I made a sign to my comrades to let them go on, and then not one of us moved after being marked. Ernest returned with the numbers in his pocket-handkerchief. Each one drew.
While they were looking at their numbers, I made another sign to my comrades, and we all shook ourselves vigorously. Charcoal and numbers disappeared and all must be done over again! The children were angry; Charles was triumphant and sneering; Ernest, Albert, Caroline, Cecil and Louise, crying out against Anthony, who stamped his feet. They began to quarrel with each other, and my comrades and I began to bray.