A man once had a donkey that, for many years, had carried heavy sacks of grain to the mill for him. At last the donkey grew old. He became weak and could no longer carry heavy loads.
One day, as he was eating hay in his stall, he heard his master say, “That old donkey is good for nothing. I am not going to feed him any longer. When he dies I will have his tough old hide for a cover to my wagon.”
At this the poor donkey felt very sad. He said to himself: “I have worked hard for my master all these years and now the hard-hearted man cares nothing for me and is going to turn me out and let me die of starvation. But he is mistaken about that. I will not stay here to die. I will help myself. I have always had a beautiful, strong voice. It is fine and good yet. I will go to the great city, Bremen, and be a street musician. The people will gladly pay to hear such fine music as I can make; and with the money I can buy food for myself in my old age.”
So the old donkey set out on the road to Bremen. As he walked along he saw a dog lying by the roadside. The dog was panting and seemed very tired. The donkey stopped and looked at him. “What is the matter with you?” he asked. “You look as if you are in trouble.”
“Indeed, I am in trouble,” said the dog. “I am too old and weak to go hunting with my master and I heard him say this morning that he intends to kill me. No wonder I am sad.” The donkey replied: “I have just left my master because he was going to turn me out to starve, and I am going to Bremen to be a street musician and earn my living. You may go, too. So come along; we will go together.” “That I will,” said the dog. So the two went on side by side toward the city.
By and by they came to a cat sitting on a fence by the roadside. She looked as though she had not a friend in all the wide world. The two friends stopped to speak to her. “What is the matter with you, old whiskers?” said the donkey. “You look as dismal as three days of rainy weather.”
“No wonder,” answered the cat. “I am now too old to catch mice; my teeth are gone and my claws are dull; and my heartless master says he is going to drown me in the pond.” “Cheer up,” said the donkey. “We two are going to be musicians. You can sing tenor to our bass. You are just the one we want. Come with us to Bremen.” The cat thanked the donkey for the kind invitation and said she was delighted with the plan and would go gladly. So the three went on towards Bremen.
As they were passing by a farm they saw a cock perched upon a barn door. He was crowing as loud as he could. The donkey called out, “What ails you, old red comb? You are crowing as if you meant to split your throat.” “I am crowing while I can,” said the cock; “to-morrow the cook is going to put me into the soup pot.” And he went on crowing louder than ever. “I can tell you something better than that,” said the donkey. “We are all going to be musicians. You have a fine voice, so come with us.” “Thank you,” said the cock. “I will gladly go. I have no taste for soup.” He flew down, and the four friends went on merrily together.
Model Treatment.