They had just begun; they had just lifted to their still hungry and unsatisfied mouths a morsel or two, selected from among the dainties spread out by Solomon; they had just become familiar once more with the delicious flavor of some of his pet dishes,--when suddenly, without warning, and altogether unexpectedly, there burst forth again that roar for which they had been waiting so long. Harsh, dissonant, ferocious, resonant in its bellowing intonations, it burst upon their ears, now much nearer than when they had heard it at the camp, and seeming very nearly as loud as it had been on that eventful night. The sound also seemed to come from Dr. Porter’s pasture field. One moment they listened--that moment assured them of the true direction. The next moment they flung down their plates, and knives, and forks; and away they went, like madmen, over the field towards the pasture. Solomon slowly rose to his feet and looked after them, with his head bent a little forward, and his hands clasped before him. “Well, well, well!” he ejaculated, while an expression of unutterable disgust came over his dark face. “Well, well, well! ob all de contrairy chil’en dat I ebber _did_ see! Nebber in de gracious sakes does dey know when dere well off. Heah’s de second time dey pitch dere dinnas away. An what dat dinna cost me--ob trouble and hard work! But, O, dear, down it goes--O, yes--jes so--flung it all away--an leab dis ole nigga to pick all it up agen. Pity de Gasperojums didn’t keep de basket. Dey’d ’preciate de dinna, any how--dat’s so. ’Tain’t de trouble,” he grumbled on, as he picked up the things again, and put them in the basket,--“’tain’t dat--no, sir. It’s de want ob ’preciation. Collud folks likes to be ’preciated. So does white folks. Dar’s de doctor. Me an him likes to be ’preciated,--but dis sort ob ting’s not ’greeble. De day’ll come when dey’ll like to hab one ob ole Solomon’s dinnas.” So he went on, picking up the things, growling and grumbling to himself all the time, until at length he had filled the basket again, and went off in the direction where the boys had gone, to see what had become of them, and with a vague idea that the “dinna” would be resumed somewhere farther on. He found the boys over in the pasture field, looking a little mystified. The noises had ceased. A few cows were quietly grazing; and among them was an animal which was very familiar by name, but which none of them had ever before seen in the flesh. It was a simple, domestic animal, in some countries the most common of all; but to these boys it was a novelty. How it had got here was also a wonder; for they had no idea that it was here, and in their surprise they forget about the noises. And what kind of an animal might this have been? A quiet, a domestic, agreeable animal; in fact, only a little donkey. “Solomon,” said Bart, as he came up, “who owns the donkey?” “De doctor,” said Solomon. “Why, how in the world did he happen to get one?” “He bought him.”