Every body who stood about, heard the poor fellow with concern.--La
Fleur offered him money.--The mourner said he did not want it;--it
was not the value of the ass--but the loss of him.--The ass, he
said, he was assured, loved him;--and upon this told them a long
story of a mischance upon their passage over the Pyrenean
mountains, which had separated them from each other three days;
during which time the ass had sought him as much as he had sought
the ass, and that they had scarce either eaten or drank till they
met.

Thou hast one comfort, friend, said I, at least, in the loss of thy
poor beast; I'm sure thou hast been a merciful master to him.--
Alas! said the mourner, I thought so when he was alive;--but now
that he is dead, I think otherwise.--I fear the weight of myself
and my afflictions together have been too much for him,--they have
shortened the poor creature's days, and I fear I have them to
answer for.--Shame on the world! said I to myself.--Did we but love
each other as this poor soul loved his ass--'twould be something. -


NAMPONT. THE POSTILION.


The concern which the poor fellow's story threw me into required
some attention; the postilion paid not the least to it, but set off
upon the pave in a full gallop.

The thirstiest soul in the most sandy desert of Arabia could not
have wished more for a cup of cold water, than mine did for grave