“All right, my dear,” said Mother Evans, and she hobbled off to where the Squire was sitting and paid her subscription into the bag.
“Very good,” said the Squire; “put Mrs. Evans’s name down, Richard.”
So the clerk put down my new mistress’s name. We were all drawn up in a line in the meadow. The Squire said, “One, two, three, and away!” the boys who held the donkeys let them go, and away we galloped as hard as we could, while the crowd ran cheering alongside.
The sixteen donkeys had not gone a hundred yards before I was in front of them all, an easy first. I thought I would beat them all now, at any rate, and I flew along as if I had wings. I passed proudly before the winning-post, not only first, but a long way ahead of all the rest, amid loud cheers from those who had no donkeys in the race.
"I was ahead of All."
The Squire sat at a table to give away the prizes, and Mother Evans, who was almost beside herself with delight, stroked and patted me, and led me up to the table with her to receive the first prize.
“Here, my good woman,” said the Squire; and he was just going to hand the watch and the bag of money to the old woman.
“Please, your worship, it isn’t fair!” cried Bill and Andrew. “It isn’t fair! That donkey doesn’t really belong to Mother Evans any more than it does to us! Our donkeys really got in first, not counting this one. The watch and money ought to be ours. It isn’t fair!”
“Did Mrs. Evans pay her quarter into the bag?” said the Squire.