"Pooh!" said the Donkey. "That's no distance at all." Buddie shrank
another inch or two. "I'm a great traveler myself. All donkeys travel
that can. If a donkey travels, you know, he _may_ come home a horse; and
to become a horse is, of course, the ambition of every donkey!"

"Is it?" was all Buddie could think of to remark. What could she say
that would interest a globe-trotter?

"Perhaps you have an old saw you'd like reset," suggested the Donkey,
still thrumming the lute-strings.

Buddie thought a moment.

"There's an old saw hanging up in our woodshed," she began, but got no
farther.

"Hee-haw! hee-haw!" laughed the Donkey. "Thistles and cactus, but that's
rich!" And he hee-hawed until the tears ran down his nose. Poor Buddie,
who knew she was being laughed at but didn't know why, began to feel
very much like crying and wished she might run away.

"Excuse these tears," the Donkey said at last, recovering his family
gravity. "Didn't you ever hear the saying, A burnt child dreads the
fire?"

Buddie nodded, and plucked up her spirits.

"Well, that's an old saw. And you must have heard that other very old
saw, No use crying over spilt milk."