296 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 



tress. He was so little you would have taken him at a dis- 

 tance for a Pyrenean dog. He had grown gray in the 

 harness. A few tufts of gray hair remained here and there 

 on his emaciated bod}'. He looked like a mountain burned 

 bare in many places. His resigned air showed a mind free 

 from worldly vanities. He was far past the age when one 

 strikes attitudes. He was almost transparent in his lean- 

 ness. But his face was all the more expressive. It had 

 something almost human in its intelligence and goodness. 

 Why had he been condemned to such suffering ? Was it 

 the expiation of a former life passed in luxurious orgies ? 



7. The rag-picker soon returned, bringing a piece of 

 bread and a lump of sugar. The donkey turned and showed 

 his teeth, like old piano-keys. But, although it was his 

 breakfast-time, he had no more strength in his mouth than 

 in his legs. She gave him the sugar. He took it as if to 

 oblige her, but dropped it again, and the same with the 

 bread. 



8. "Ah! what shall I do?" said the rag-picker. She 

 thought no more of her cart. She was full of anxiety for 

 her friend Pierrot. "Pierrot!" she cried again. Two 

 great tears came to her eyes. She took his head in her 

 arms and kissed him like a child. The caress did what 

 nothing else could do. The donkeys roused himself, and 

 brayed as in his best days. I feared it was only his swan- 

 song. I approached, and said to the woman : "You seem 

 to be in trouble." 



9. "Oh !" she said, crying, "if you knew how I love 

 this beast. I saved him from the butchers four years ago. 

 In those days I had only a hod. I have raised seven chil- 

 dren with my hook. The father is gone and one other, 

 and my eldest daughter was taken a fortnight ago. My 

 worst grief was that I had to take one to the Foundlings. 

 I had eleven in all ; four of them died. It's no use ; you 

 can't take good care of them when you work in the streets 



