“Where are they going to run?” asked an old dame, who had just come up.
“In the meadow by the mill,” said a man named Andrew.
“How many donkeys are there?” asked the old woman.
“Sixteen, Mother Evans, and the one that comes in first will win a silver watch and a bag of money.”
“Oh, deary me!” said Mother Evans, “I do wish I had a donkey. I should so like to have a watch. I’ve never had the money to buy one.”
I liked the look of this old woman; I was justly proud of my running; I had been so long in the forest that I was not too fat, as some of these prize donkeys were; and so I would take part in the race. I trotted up to the others, and took my place among them, and then, to attract attention, I opened my mouth and brayed vigorously.
“Oh, you stop that!” cried out a man named Bill. “Hi! you there, donkey, you just stop that music, will you? and get out of there! You can’t run, you shabby brute! and, besides, you don’t belong to anybody.”
I held my tongue, but I didn’t budge an inch. Some laughed, and others were getting angry, when old Mother Evans said:—
“Well, he can have me for his mistress. I take him into my service from this minute. So now he can run for me.”
“Well,” said Bill, “do as you like, mother. Only if you want him to run, you’ve got to put a quarter into the bag the Squire has yonder.”