He whistled and shouted again and again, but no steed came. An old bony gray donkey browsing on the hilltop was the only creature in sight. “Better a donkey than nothing,” the lazy man thought. So he walked slowly over to the place where the beast was grazing, and mounted him.
After some urging, the donkey set off at a slow jog. The lazy man soon found that this kind of traveling was very uncomfortable. The donkey trudged slowly on. Soon it began to grow dark. In the distance he could see that the castle was being lighted up. How beautiful it looked. He was becoming anxious. If only the donkey would move a little faster. But instead he seemed to be going slower and slower, slower and slower, until in the midst of a thick wood the beast stood still and refused to move. The rider coaxed and threatened and urged and kicked. It was of no use. The donkey refused to move. At last the lazy man was thoroughly aroused. He struck the beast a hard blow with his fist, screaming, “Get on, I say.” Up went the donkey’s heels and over his head into the briers and stones went the rider. What a plight to be in! He was bruised and sore and bewildered. He sat up and tried to collect his thoughts. Ah! There in the distance the lights were shining in Castle Fortune. Oh, for a soft comfortable couch on which to rest his aching bones. The stubborn old donkey! Where could he be?
He crept about in every direction, hoping to find his donkey, but after tearing his clothes and bruising himself he gave up the search. Suddenly his hand struck something that felt a little like a saddle. It was mounted on something soft and slimy.
He hesitated. Castle Fortune’s clock was striking. He counted the strokes. “Eleven o’clock!” he exclaimed in amazement. He threw himself into the queer saddle. “This is rather comfortable,” he exclaimed as he leaned against a high back. How slowly the creature moved. At last they reached a clearing, where a long straight road led directly to Castle Fortune with its beautiful towers and its windows ablaze with lights.
The sight of the castle filled him with longing. He turned his attention for a minute to the strange creature he was riding. Horror! He was mounted on a huge snail, quite as large as a calf. No wonder they had crept along at a snail’s pace.
One! The great clock struck the first stroke of the midnight hour. He pushed both heels into his steed’s soft sides. In an instant the snail drew his head into the shell and rolled over on the ground.
Two! struck the great clock. Had the lazy man taken to his heels he might even now have reached the castle before the last stroke of the great clock. But no! There he stood filled with regret and fear. “A beast! A beast!” he cried, “Oh, for any kind of a beast to carry me to the castle!”
Three! What was moving near him? Was it the long lost steed? Without further thought he jumped into something like a low saddle. His heart leaped as he looked up! There in the open door of Castle Fortune stood his friend waving his cap and beckoning to him.
Four! chimed the great clock. The queer steed began to rouse himself.
Five! The creature moved slowly forward.