But the wooden man wouldn’t speak another word until they had arrived at the Donkey Shelter, when he became cheerful once more.
“Let me introduce you to the Plausible Donkey,” he said, gallantly.
“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Donkey,” said Alice, timidly. “What beautiful eyes you have.”
“The better to see you with, my child,” quoted the Plausible Donkey, just to show that he was not such a donkey as he looked. “What can I do for you to-day?”
“Can you sing?” asked Alice, innocently.
“Heavens!” groaned the wooden man, in her ear. “Now you’ve done it! He has no more voice than a crow!”
But the Plausible Donkey was pleased by the question.
“It is not surprising that you do not know my ability in that respect,” he smiled, “since this is your first visit. The fact is—” He blushed modestly. “The fact is, I am descended from that notable singer, Maxwelton.”
“Maxwelton!” echoed Alice, in surprise. “I thought that was a song.”