THE DONKEY. 



monly ased than among ns, and continnes so to the present 

 day. Bayard Taylor gives a vivid and Inminons description 

 of the behavionr of the asses of Cairo, as witnessed by him 

 while on a visit to that city. According to Mr. Taylor, the 

 natives of the East have a notion that the Frank is incapable 

 of pedestrianism, and that if he be met walking it is only 

 because he is looking for a donkey boy. They won't believe 

 otherwise, and the gentleman quotes as au example the case of 

 a friend of his, who for two hours was closely attended by a 

 cavalcade of six donkeys and six donkey drivers, clamouring 

 and braying for the " howadji's" custom. 



"The donkeys are so small," writes Mr. Taylor, "that my 

 feet nearly touched the ground, but there is no end to their 

 strength and endurance. Their gait, whether in pace or gallop 

 is so easy and light, that fatigue is impossible. The drivers 

 take great pride in having high-cushioned red saddles, and in 

 hanging bits of jingling brass to the bridles. They keep their 

 donkeys close shorn, and frequently beautify them by painting 

 them various colours. The first animal I rode had legs barred 

 like a zebra's, and my friend's rejoiced in purple flank and a 

 yellow belly. The drivers run behind them with a short stick 

 punching them from time to time, and giving them a pinch on 

 the rump. Very few of them own their donkeys, and I under- 

 stood their pertinacity when I learned that they frequently 

 received a beating on returning home empty-handed. 



" The passage of the bazaars seems at first quite as hazardous 

 on donkey backs as on foot ; but it is the difference between 

 knocking somebody down and being knocked down yourself, 

 and one certainly prefers the former alternative. There is no 

 use in attempting to guide the donkey, for he won't be guided. 

 The driver shouts behind and you are dashed at full speed into 

 a confusion of other donkeys, camels, horses, carts, water- 

 carriers, and footmen. In vain you cry out ' Bess ' (enough), 

 Piacco, and other desperate adjurations ; the driver's only reply 

 is ' Let the bridle hang loose ;' you dodge your head under a 

 camel-load of planks ; your leg brushes the wheel of a dust- 

 cart; you strike a fat Turk plump in the back; you mira- 

 culously escape upsetting a fruit-stand ; you scatter a company 

 of spectral white-masked women, and at last reach some more 

 quiet street with the sensations of a man who has stormed a 

 battery. 



" At first this sort of riding made me very nervous, but pre- 

 sently I let the donkey go his own way, and took a curious 



