Essays; Stevenson, Robert Louis, 1850-1894 -- Travel
revolved the problem in his head, giving ever and again another jerk at
the few inches of free rope that still remained unwound. A humorous sort
of sympathy for the creature took hold upon me. I went up, and, not
without some trouble on my part, and much distrust and resistance on the
part of Neddy, got him forced backwards until the whole length of the
halter was set loose, and he was once more as free a donkey as I dared to
make him. I was pleased (as people are) with this friendly action to a
fellow-creature in tribulation, and glanced back over my shoulder to see
how he was profiting by his freedom. The brute was looking after me; and
no sooner did he catch my eye than he put up his long white face into the
air, pulled an impudent mouth at me, and began to bray derisively. If
ever any one person made a grimace at another, that donkey made a grimace
at me. The hardened ingratitude of his behaviour, and the impertinence
that inspired his whole face as he curled up his lip, and showed his
teeth, and began to bray, so tickled me, and was so much in keeping with
what I had imagined to myself about his character, that I could not find
it in my heart to be angry, and burst into a peal of hearty laughter.
This seemed to strike the ass as a repartee, so he brayed at me again by
way of rejoinder; and we went on for a while, braying and laughing, until
I began to grow aweary of it, and, shouting a derisive farewell, turned
to pursue my way. In so doing—it was like going suddenly into cold
water—I found myself face to face with a prim little old maid. She was
all in a flutter, the poor old dear! She had concluded beyond question
that this must be a lunatic who stood laughing aloud at a white donkey in
the placid beech-woods. I was sure, by her face, that she had already
recommended her spirit most religiously to Heaven, and prepared herself
for the worst. And so, to reassure her, I uncovered and besought her,
after a very staid fashion, to put me on my way to Great Missenden. Her
voice trembled a little, to be sure, but I think her mind was set at
rest; and she told me, very explicitly, to follow the path until I came
to the end of the wood, and then I should see the village below me in the
bottom of the valley. And, with mutual courtesies, the little old maid
and I went on our respective ways.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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