Gee whiz, we had to laugh. The man that owned that outfit was an Italian and he was yelling Italian at the donkey and trying to make him start. I guess the donkey didn’t understand Italian. [Illustration: “I GUESS THE DONKEY DIDN’T UNDERSTAND ITALIAN.”] A lot of people got out of the train and stood around watching and the engineer sat in his window looking as if he were very mad at the donkey. But anyway the donkey didn’t care. When we got close enough we could see that the wagon had emery wheels in it for grinding knives and scissors and scythes and things like that and they went by a gas engine. The man was shouting, “Hey! Whater de mat? You go! Hey, whater de mat?” I said, “We ought to have someone who can translate Italian. Suppose you shout at him, Pee-wee; if that doesn’t start him nothing will.” The man kept jerking the donkey’s bit, all excited, and shouting, “Hey you, giddup, whater de mat?” Two or three passengers started pulling and jerking the donkey, and one tried to push him, but it didn’t do any good. I felt mighty grateful to that donkey. Anyway he had a will of his own, that’s one sure thing. About a half a dozen passengers kept tugging at him but it didn’t do any good. He just braced his legs and let them pull. I said, “Maybe if we hold some grass in front of him he’ll follow it.” But that didn’t work; I guess he wasn’t hungry. Pretty soon Warde said, “I’ve got an idea; let’s move him with the gas engine. That engine’s about six horse power; it ought to be stronger than one donkey power.” “It’s an insulation!” Pee-wee shouted. “You mean an inspiration,” I told him. “Hey, giddup; hey you,” the Italian kept shouting, all the time hitting the donkey with the whip. I said, “Nix on that, it doesn’t do any good. What’s the use of licking a donkey when you’ve got a gas engine to move him with? You leave it to us, we’ll move him.” The man said, “Mova de donk; hey boss, mova de donk!” “Sure,” I said, “we’ll move him; we go to the movies and we know all about moving. Have you got some rope?” I don’t know where the rope came from; maybe it came from the train and maybe it came from the wagon. Anyway we fastened it through one of the holes in the fly-wheel and wound it a couple of times round the shaft. Then we dragged the rope over to a tree on the edge of the woods, behind the wagon and tied it there. Everybody was laughing and the Italian was shouting, “Hey, maka de gas, boss! Pulla de donk!” We told him to start the engine and let it run very slowly. Goodnight! Laugh? First there was a kind of straining and creaking, but we knew the engine was fixed solid because it was bolted right through a heavy engine bed to the floor of the wagon. The rope was so tight it looked as if it would snap. Pretty soon the donkey began to feel the pulling because he braced his hind legs; he looked awful funny. “I bet on the donkey,” somebody shouted. “I bet on the gas engine,” somebody else put in.