“I CAN’T GET UP, BECAUSE I’M DEAD!”
“Dear, dear, dear!” he cried, “one trouble after another! When I was dead I wished I was alive; now I’m alive I wish I was dead again, for I’m sore all over, and I’ve lost my donkey. Whatever shall I do?” And, groaning and grumbling, he set off along the road in search of his beast.
After a time he came to the gates of the town, where a sentry was standing with his pike on his shoulder. “Good morning, good man,” said the peasant. “Have you seen my little ass?”
“Your ass!” answered the sentry, smiling. “The only ass that has passed through these gates to-day is already become burgomaster!”
“What! Burgomaster!” cried the peasant. “My ass Burgomaster! Tell me quickly, where does he live? I must go to him at once!”
Hardly able to control his amusement, the sentry pointed out the way to the Burgomaster’s house, and thither went the peasant in all haste. Arrived at the door, he sounded the great bell—Darlindindin!—and a maidservant appeared.
“Is the Burgomaster at home?” asked the peasant. Yes, he was at home, and the maidservant led the peasant to the room where he sat behind a big table loaded with documents.
“Good morning, Ass!” said the peasant, with a grin of delight that twisted his swollen and discoloured features.
“Eh! what, what!” stammered the Burgomaster, turning purple with anger.
“I beg your pardon,” said the peasant, “I should have said, ‘Good morning, Mr. Ass, Esquire,’ for you have become a great man now, while I am still a poor woodcutter. I don’t envy you your good fortune, I am sure, although your promotion has left me without a donkey. Since you have become such a great lord, won’t you give me back the ten florins you cost me, so that I may buy another?”