“I’ve just been turned out of house”
THE CHORISTERS OF ST. GUDULE
The miller of Sandhills had a donkey which had served him well in its time, but was now too old to work. The miller was a careful man, who did not believe in feeding useless mouths, so he decided that he would sell the donkey for the price of its skin. “I do not suppose I shall get very much for the wretched beast,” he said, regarding poor Greyskin as he stood with hanging head in his stall, “but I shall save the cost of his corn anyhow, and that is always something.”
Left alone, Greyskin reflected sadly upon the fate in store for him. “Such is the way of the world,” he thought. “When I was young and hearty nothing was too good for me; now I’m old and useless I am to be cast out. But am I so useless after all? True, I can no longer pull a cart to market, but I have a magnificent voice still. There must be a place somewhere for one who can sing as beautifully as I. I’ll go to the Cathedral of St. Gudule, in Brussels, and offer myself as a chorister.”
Greyskin lost no time in acting upon his resolve, but left his stable immediately and set out on the road to Brussels. Passing the Burgomaster’s house he saw an old hound sitting disconsolately on the doorstep.
“Hallo, friend!” said he. “What is the matter with you? You seem very sad this morning.”
“The matter is that I am tired of life,” answered the dog. “I’m getting old and stiff and I can no longer hunt hares for my master as I used to do. The result is that I am reckoned good for nothing and they grudge me every morsel of food I put into my mouth.”