legs as if it were about to
fall.

Maillochon aimed slowly and said: "A little pepper for the ears; watch,
Ghicot!" And he fired.

The tiny shot struck the donkey's long ears and he began to shake them
in order to get rid of the stinging sensation. The two men were doubled
up with laughter and stamped their feet with joy. The woman, indignant,
rushed forward; she did not want her donkey to be tortured, and she
offered to return the five francs. Labouise threatened her with a
thrashing and pretended to roll up his sleeves. He had paid, hadn't he?
Well, then, he would take a shot at her skirts, just to show that it
didn't hurt. She went away, threatening to call the police. They could
hear her protesting indignantly and cursing as she went her way.

Maillochon held out the gun to his comrade, saying: "It's your turn,
Chicot."

Labouise aimed and fired. The donkey received the charge in his thighs,
but the shot was so small and came from such a distance that he thought
he was being stung by flies, for he began to thrash himself with his
tail.

Labouise sat down to laugh more comfortably, while Maillochon reloaded
the weapon, so happy that he seemed to sneeze into the barrel. He
stepped forward a few paces, and, aiming at the same place that his
friend had shot at, he fired again. This time the beast started, tried
to kick and turned its head. At last a little blood was running. It
had been wounded and felt a sharp pain, for it tried to run away with a
slow, limping, jerky gallop.

Both men darted after the beast, Maillochon with a long stride, Labouise
with the short, breathless trot of a little man. But the donkey, tired
out, had stopped, and, with a bewildered look, was watching his two
murderers approach. Suddenly he stretched his neck and began to bray.

Labouise, out of breath, had taken the gun. This time he walked right up
close, as he did not wish to begin the chase over again.

When the poor beast had finished its mournful cry, like a last call for
help, the man called: "Hey, Mailloche! Come here, sister; I'm going
to give him some medicine." And while the other man was forcing the
animal's mouth open, Chicot stuck the barrel of his gun down its throat,
as if he were trying to make it drink a potion. Then he said: "Look out,
sister, here she goes!"

He pressed the trigger. The donkey stumbled back a few steps, fell down,
tried to get up again and finally lay on its side and closed its eyes:
The whole