“The bray of a donkey!” faltered Pat. “Sure it’s me that’s heard it.”
“Well, this must be one.”
“But who ivir heard of a donkey in a garret?”
“O, I dare say he’s strolled up there to visit your friend in the cupola.”
And now, Bart, not caring to prolong Pat’s terror, explained the cause of the noise that had terrified him, letting him know at the same time why it was done. He told Pat that they found out about the screech, and the bell, and sent up the donkey so as to give him a little taste of that fear which he was so anxious to give to others. As they had given him a shock, he was satisfied. Had Pat been at all an ill-tempered fellow; he might have resented all this; but as he was one of the best-natured fellows in the world, he showed not the smallest particle of resentment. On the contrary, the moment the load of horror was lifted off by Bart’s disclosure, his buoyant spirits rose at once, and all burst forth to the full swing of his jovial, mirthful, ridiculous, reckless Irish temperament.
“Faith, an it’s me that’s caught—’deed an it is so, thin,” he cried, with a burst of laughter. “An ye got the donkey up to the garret! Sure it bates the wurruld, so it does. An didn’t I hair the noise? but how cud I ivir dhrame it wor that. An ye got him jist close fornist me, so ye did! It wor just in me own air that he hooted, so it wor.”
Pat now grew quite communicative, and told Bart all about it. His motive for creating an excitement was simply to get a chance of laughing at the other boys, who had so often laughed at him. There was no malice whatever in his intention; nothing at all of the nature of vengefulness; but simply a mischievous and thoughtless idea of throwing some ridicule on the boys generally. Bart’s discovery of the truth was known to him, but he did not care for that; he was determined to keep up his little joke as long as it could be kept up. He had been startled that night when the string had been jerked from his hand, but afterwards concluded that it was the wind. The knock at the doors he explained very simply. He had stolen up barefoot, and as the screech sounded, he had struck each door with a stick, and then ran. He was down below before they could see him. All this Pat explained with perfect ease and much merriment, regarding it all as a good joke, not even excepting the last affair with the donkey.
But what, it may be asked, was that screech which had been the beginning of it all?
It was all explained on the following morning.
Early on that morning the donkey had been brought down stairs with little difficulty, but with an immense amount of noise. As the boys brought him out, Pat marched quietly after them, carrying an enormous Owl!