r I have examined the
back-yard from over the palings, and have been unable to make him out.
Gentility, nobility, royalty, would appeal to that donkey in vain to do
what he does for a costermonger. Feed him with oats at the highest
price, put an infant prince and princess in a pair of panniers on his
back, adjust his delicate trappings to a nicety, take him to the softest
slopes at Windsor, and try what pace you can get out of him. Then starve
him, harness him anyhow to a truck with a flat tray on it, and see him
bowl from Whitechapel to Bayswater. There appears to be no particular
private understanding between birds and donkeys, in a state of nature;
but in the shy neighbourhood state you shall see them always in the same
hands and always developing their very best energies for the very worst
company. I have known a donkey--by sight; we were not on speaking
terms--who lived over on the Surrey side of London Bridge, among the
fastnesses of Jacob's Island and Dockhead. It was the habit of that
animal, when his services were not in immediate requisition, to go out
alone idling. I have met him a mile from his place of residence,
loitering about the streets; and the expression of his countenance at
such times was most degraded. He was attached to the establishment of an
elderly lady who sold periwinkles, and he used to stand on Saturday
nights with a cartful of those delicacies outside a gin-shop, pricking
up his ears when a customer came to the cart, and too evidently deriving
satisfaction from the knowledge that they got bad measure. His mistress
was sometimes overtaken by inebriety. The last time I ever saw him
(about five years ago) he was in circumstances of difficulty, caused by
this failing. Having been left alone with the cart of periwinkles, and
forgotten, he went off idling. He prowled among his usual low haunts for
some time, gratifying his depraved tastes, until, not taking the cart
into his calculations, he endeavoured to turn up a narrow alley, and
became greatly involved. He was taken into custody by the police, and,
the Green Yard of the district being near at hand, was backed into that
place of durance. At that crisis I encountered him; the stubborn sense
he evinced of being--not to compromise the expression--a blackguard, I
never saw exceeded in the human subject. A flaring candle in a paper
shade, stuck in among his periwinkles, showed him, with his ragged
harness broken and his cart extensively shattered,