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Chapter 13 Twas by a poor ass, who had just turned in with a couple of large panniers upon his back, to collect eleemosynary turnip-tops and cabbage- leaves; and stood dubious, with his two fore-feet on the inside of the threshold, and with his two hinder feet towards the street, as not knowing very well whether he was to go in or no. Now, tis an animal (be in what hurry I may) I cannot bear to strikethere is a patient endurance of sufferings, wrote so unaffectedly in his looks and carriage, which pleads so mightily for him, that it always disarms me; and to that degree, that I do not like to speak unkindly to him: on the contrary, meet him where I willwhether in town or countryin cart or under pannierswhether in liberty or bondageI have ever something civil to say to him on my part; and as one word begets another (if he has as little to do as I)I generally fall into conversation with him; and surely never is my imagination so busy as in framing his responses from the etchings of his countenanceand where those carry me not deep enoughin flying from my own heart into his, and seeing what is natural for an ass to thinkas well as a man, upon the occasion. In truth, it is the only creature of all the classes of beings below me, with whom I can do this: for parrots, jackdaws, &c.I never exchange a word with themnor with the apes, &c. for pretty near the same reason; they act by rote, as the others speak by it, and equally make me silent: nay my dog and my cat, though I value them both(and for my dog he would speak if he could)yet somehow or other, they neither of them possess the talents for conversationI can make nothing of a discourse with them, beyond the proposition, the reply, and rejoinder, which terminated my fathers and my mothers conversations, in his beds of justiceand those utterdtheres an end of the dialogue But with an ass, I can commune for ever. Come, Honesty! said I,seeing it was impracticable to pass betwixt him and the gateart thou for coming in, or going out? The ass twisted his head round to look up the street Wellreplied Iwell wait a minute for thy driver: He turned his head thoughtful about, and looked wistfully the opposite way I understand thee perfectly, answered IIf thou takest a wrong step in this affair, he will cudgel thee to deathWell! a minute is but a minute, and if it saves a fellow-creature a drubbing, it shall not be set down as ill-spent. He was eating the stem of an artichoke as this discourse went on, and in the little peevish contentions of nature betwixt hunger and unsavouriness, had dropt it out of his mouth half a dozen times, and pickd it up again God help thee, Jack! said I, thou hast a bitter breakfast ontand many a bitter days labour,and many a bitter blow, I fear, for its wagestis allall bitterness to thee, whatever life is to others.And now thy mouth, if one knew the truth of it, is as bitter, I dare say, as soot(for he had cast aside the stem) and thou hast not a friend perhaps in all this world, that will give thee a macaroon.In saying this, I pulld out a paper of em, which I had just purchased, and gave him oneand at this moment that I am telling it, my heart smites me, that there was more of pleasantry in the conceit, of seeing how an ass would eat a macaroonthan of benevolence in giving him one, which presided in the act. When the ass had eaten his macaroon, I pressd him to come inthe poor beast was heavy loadedhis legs seemd to tremble under himhe hung rather backwards, and as I pulld at his halter, it broke short in my hand- -he lookd up pensive in my faceDont thrash me with itbut if you will, you mayIf I do, said I, Ill be d....d. The word was but one-half of it pronounced, like the abbess of Andouillets(so there was no sin in it)when a person coming in, let fall a thundering bastinado upon the poor devils crupper, which put an end to the ceremony. |
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