"Urchins!" I cried out again. "Why do you pursue and torture one of God's creatures—the miserable dobbin?"
"Miserable indeed!" they cried out scoffingly. "Why does she graze here? Why does that fine-looking mare graze here?"
"How is that?" I exclaimed, "is this not a pasture, and have not all the animals of the town grazed here from time immemorial!"
"The animals of the town," they answered, "are an entirely different matter; they may, but she may not."
"Why not she?" I called out, "has she not a soul like all the animals of the town?"
"Maybe she has not!" they retorted.
"Urchins!" I said to them, "but she certainly has a master who pays all the taxes of the town and other duties. She is a town animal like all the others!"
"That's exactly what we do not know!" they answered in scorn. "Whether she is a town animal, that's the question!"
"Let it be as it may," I said, "but in the meanwhile the mare is hungry and wants to eat!"
"Let her eat worms, get sick and die!" they replied. "What does she want of us? Why should such a creature eat up that which belongs to the town animals?"