Father Adam. Father Adam had a cart, and to draw the cart a diminutive
she-ass, not much bigger than a dog, the colour of a mouse, with a kindly
eye and a determined under-jaw. There was something neat and high-bred,
a quakerish elegance, about the rogue that hit my fancy on the spot. Our
first interview was in Monastier market-place. To prove her good temper,
one child after another was set upon her back to ride, and one after
another went head over heels into the air; until a want of confidence
began to reign in youthful bosoms, and the experiment was discontinued
from a dearth of subjects. I was already backed by a deputation of my
friends; but as if this were not enough, all the buyers and sellers came
round and helped me in the bargain; and the ass and I and Father Adam
were the centre of a hubbub for near half an hour. At length she passed
into my service for the consideration of sixty-five francs and a glass of
brandy. The sack had already cost eighty francs and two glasses of beer;
so that Modestine, as I instantly baptized her, was upon all accounts the
cheaper article. Indeed, that was as it should be; for she was only an
appurtenance of my mattress, or self-acting bedstead on four castors.

I had a last interview with Father Adam in a billiard-room at the
witching hour of dawn, when I administered the brandy. He professed
himself greatly touched by the separation, and declared he had often
bought white bread for the donkey when he had been content with black
bread for himself; but this, according to the best authorities, must have
been a flight of fancy. He had a name in the village for brutally
misusing the ass; yet it is certain that he shed a tear, and the tear
made a clean mark down one cheek.

By the advice of a fallacious local saddler, a leather pad was made for
me with rings to fasten on my bundle; and I thoughtfully completed my kit
and arranged my toilette. By way of armoury and utensils, I took a