He handed her the carafe, which was out of her reach; she thanked
him, and, not to let the conversation drop, added with a pleasant
smile:
"Monsieur seems fond of donkeys?"
"Indeed!" He answered, surprised.
"I saw you this morning patting and stroking a splendid donkey."
He had not thought of it again.
"Yes, now I remember," he answered, "it was a charming beast, with
wonderfully wise, thoughtful eyes."
"Do you think so too?" she cried, delighted. "You must know, I have
a special weakness for donkeys, and consider that, next to dogs they
are by far the most intelligent of our domestic animals. They have
such a look of profound wisdom, such stoical philosophy and
resignation, that I feel they are quite a lesson to me."
Wilhelm could not repress a smile at her lively tone.
"I should like to think," he said, "that our agreeing in a good
opinion of the donkey is a sign that the ungrateful world has at
last come to a proper appreciation of this ugly fellow-laborer."
"Ugly?" she exclaimed. "I don't think so at all! Look at his
delicate hoofs, his elegantly-tufted tail, the soft, silvery gray of
his coat with the velvety, black markings, and his ears are very
becoming to him. It is such an injustice always to compare him with
the horse.
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