All would have gone well had the jack not been so conceited. He, just like an ass, thought he knew it all. If he ever cut any ice in his life he did it then. Being of a generous disposition, he made ample accommodations for a crowd who, like his asinine self, came out for a skate and were hardly prepared for a baptism.
Pandemonium reigned. There were several narrow escapes from drowning; even Mac A'Rony barely averted a sublime decease, and bellowed like a freight engine. However, as he was the only donkey of the whole party that piloted himself to terra firma without assistance, he deserves much more praise than the fools that were so unwarrantably thoughtless as to imperil a hundred precious lives in their selfishness to have a good time at the expense of an humble beast.
As soon as the panic had subsided, a new rink was cleared further down the canal, where the Christmas fete was prolonged to a late hour. The terrified animal was here supported on two parallel bars held by strong men; and he promised to remain upright henceforth. To say the least, his frantic efforts to do the "pigeon wing" on the star-spangled firmament nearly capsized his pall-bearers. Guards had been posted at various points to apprise the practical jokers, if the donkey's master should come uninvited on the scene, but it seems that, by crafty, foxy methods, the Professor had been led by false scent to the suburbs. So the fun continued.
After the ball was over, Mac A'Rony was returned in safety to his stall. The little fellow appeared to be the nimbler from his cold-water plunge, and was so elated over his extraordinary exploits that he brayed all the way to his quarters."
As soon as I heard Mac I rushed out to the barn bare-headed, and threw my arms round his neck. I found the little fellow joyously rummaging in four huge stockings filled with corn bread, molasses cake, mince pie, carrots, and apple-sauce. "I had a h—l of a time last night," was all he said.
[CHAPTER VI.]
Mac held for ransom
Christmas day is a merry day
For all good lads and lassies,
But dull and lorn for th' fellow born