"Ah?—yes—true—the donkey! Really, a very handsome animal," said Mr. Jinks, appearing to be aware of the existence of Fodder for the first time.
"I asked you how you would like a donkey, instead of a horse, meaning, in fact, to ask if Fodder would, for the time, answer your warlike and gallant purposes? If so, my dear fellow, I'll lend him to you—Tom can go back to the farm in the wagon—it comes and goes every day."
Tom looked at Mr. Jinks' legs, scratched his head, and grinning from ear to ear, added the assurance that he was rather pleased to get rid of Fodder, who was too small for a man of his weight.
Mr. Jinks received these propositions and assurances, at first, with a shake of the head: he really could not deprive, etc.; then he looked dubious; then he regarded Fodder with admiration and affection; then he assented to Ralph's arrangement, and put his arm affectionately around Fodder's neck.
"I love that animal already!" cried the enthusiastic Mr. Jinks.
Ralph turned aside to laugh.
"That is highly honorable, Jinks, my boy," he said; "there's no trait of character more characteristic of a great and exalted intellect, than kindness to animals."
"You flatter me, sir."
"Never—I never flatter. Now, Tom," continued Ralph to the negro,"
return homeward, and inform my dear old Governor that, next week,
I shall return, temporarily, to make preparations for my marriage.
Further, relate to him the fate of Fodder—go, sir."
And throwing Tom, who grinned and laughed, a piece of silver, Ralph turned again to Jinks.