612 APPENDIX. 



his only ass, that he got himself into an ugly scrape by requesting no 

 less a personage than the duenna of the duke's castle to look after 

 it, and see that it were well taken care of. The same Sancho, in 

 writing to his wife, says, That he would not leave it behind him were 

 he himself to be made Grand Turk. And when he was just about to 

 abandon his government in the island of Barataria, he embraced his 

 ass ; then he gave it a kiss on the forehead, exclaiming : " Come to 

 me, my friend and companion, the bearer of my troubles and my 

 miseries ; when I associated with thee, my only care was to repair 

 thy trappings, and to nourish thy dear little body. Then, indeed 

 happy were my hours, my days, and my years. But since I have 

 lost sight of thee, and soared over the towers of ambition and pride, 

 innumerable miseries have entered into my soul, ' mil miserias, mil 

 trabajos, y quatro mil des associegoss.' " And afterwards, when 

 Sancho and his ass had tumbled headlong into a deserted pit on 

 their way to see the duke, he exclaimed, " When my remains and 

 those of my dear ass shall have been discovered, the people will 

 know at once who we are, as Sancho Panza was never known to be 

 separated from his ass, nor his ass from Sancho Panza." In fine, 

 having departed from his government, he told the duchess that he 

 had no other company than that of his as " Sin otro a compana- 

 miento que el de su asno." 



These, and innumerable other instances in Spanish writers, let us 

 at once into the familiarity and friendly feeling which exist between 

 the peasant of that country and his favourite ass feelings never to 

 be met with in our own enlightened realm of England. 



The mourner in the affecting story of Sterne's " Dead Ass," had 

 lost two fine boys (" the finest lads in all Germany ") by the small- 

 pox ; and in order that his only remaining child might be spared, he 

 had undertaken a long and dreary pilgrimage, from the farthest 

 borders of Franconia to the shrine of St Jago in Spain. On his 

 journey back to his own country, the poor ass died. It had been a 

 patient partner of his pilgrimage. " It had ate the same bread with 

 him all the way, and was unto him as a friend." 



I can fancy that I see the sorrowing, way-worn traveller sitting on 

 a stone bench at the door, and sighing bitterly as he gazed on the 

 pannel and bridle of his departed ass. Poor mourner! he again took 



