CHAPTER XVIII
The ass stood quietly where he had been left.
Rain was pouring from him as though he were the father of rivers and supplied the world with running water. It dashed off his flanks; it leaped down his tail; it foamed over his forehead to his nose, and hit the ground from there with a thump.
"I'm very wet," said the ass to himself, "and I wish I wasn't."
His eyes were fixed on a brown stone that had a knob on its back. Every drop of rain that hit the stone jumped twice and then spattered to the ground. After a moment he spoke to himself again:
"I don't care whether it stops raining or not, for I can't be any wetter than I am, however it goes."
Having said this, he dismissed the weather and settled himself to think. He hung his head slightly and fixed his eyes afar off, and he stared distantly like that without seeing anything while he gathered and revolved his thoughts.
The first thing he thought about was carrots.