THE DONKEY. II9 



readily be observed that when the ass is in com- 

 pany with his fellows, he pays but little attention 

 to them. If two or three horses are standing 

 together, they are perpetually turning to one 

 another and acting in a way which is distinctly 

 sociable ; although (like some higher society ani- 

 mals) they do not always greet or treat their 

 acquaintances in the kindliest manner. But if 

 you watch an assemblage of donkeys, such as may 

 be seen any day on Blackheath and the other 

 commons around London, the gathering is as 

 solemn and as silent as a Quakers' meeting. All 

 this indicates certain peculiarities in the social 

 economy of the life of the wild ass which will be 

 dealt with further on. 



There is a cadence in the "eloquent outpour- 

 ing " of the ass which always assails my pity ; 

 and had I the bent for artistic pathos of a 

 Sterne, I would ignore for once the obligations 

 which science imposes, and would seek to trace 

 its origin to his first bitter taste of bondage. 

 His psean, or proclamation, or whatever it may 

 be, unlike the public efforts of bipeds (whether 

 of the Senate House, the Opera, or the barn- 

 door), has no soaring finale. While still appar- 

 ently in full progress, it halts, stumbles into a 



