"Oh, yes?"
"But dangerous accidents have frequently resulted from—"
"Donkeys? you are right. But suppose I mount with you!" said Ralph, who had fallen into one of his mischievous moods.
"Hum! sir—will he carry double, do you think?"
"Carry double! He'd carry a thousand—Fodder would! Just get into the saddle, and I'll put my handkerchief on his back, and mount behind—I'll guide him. Come!"
And Ralph, with a suppressed chuckle, pushed Mr. Jinks toward the saddle.
Mr. Jinks looked round—cleared his throat—glanced at the expression of the donkey's eyes—and endeavored to discover from the movement of his ears if he was vicious. Fodder seemed to be peaceful—Mr. Jinks got into the saddle, his grasshopper legs reaching nearly to the ground.
"Now!" cried Ralph, vaulting behind him, "now for a ride!"
And seizing the reins, before Mr. Jinks could even get his feet into the stirrups, the young man kicked the donkey vigorously, and set off at a gallop.
Mr. Jinks leaned forward in the saddle with loud cries, balancing himself by the pummel, and holding on to the mane. Fodder was frightened by the cries, and ran like a race-horse, kicking up his heels, and indeed rendered Ralph's position somewhat perilous. But that gentleman was experienced, from earliest infancy, in riding bareback, and held on. He also held Mr. Jinks on.