he donkey go for that price. As there was not
quite a dollar in Frank's hand, in loose change, the charge seemed
to him to be very reasonable, and even, as he expressed it, dirt
cheap. So thought all the rest, and they all proceeded to bring
forth their loose change, and pass it over to the old-man. The
hands of the latter closed over the silver, with a nervous and
almost convulsive clutch, and after one long, hungry look at each
lot that was given him, he would insert each very carefully in the
remote corner of an old sheepskin poach that hung in front of him,
suspended around his waist.

But now arose a difficulty. The donkeys had no saddles. That was
a small matter, however, and was not the real difficulty. The
real difficulty lay in the fact that they had no bridles. How
could they guide them?

Frank tried by signs to express this difficulty to the old man,
and the latter understood him, for he smiled, nodded, shrugged
his shoulders, and then pointed to his boy, and waved his band
in the direction they wished to go. The boy also smiled and
nodded, and made signs of his own, by which he plainly showed
them that he intended to accompany them as guide, and lead the
drove, while they might ride.

This being understood, the boys felt satisfied, and each one now
proceeded to select the donkey which was most to his taste. Bob
had already made his selection, and was mounted on the back of the
biggest donkey of the lot--an animal whose size, breadth of chest,
and slender limbs gave him an air of actual elegance. All the boys
envied Bob his mount; but none of them complained. Frank secured
a solid animal, that had a matter-of-fact expression, and looked
as though he had no nonsense in him. Clive chose one that had a
slight shade of melancholy in his face, as though he had known
sorrow. David's donkey was a shaggy, hard-headed, dogged-looking
animal, that seemed bent on having his own way. Uncle Moses'
mount was rather eccentric. He chose the smallest animal of the
lot,--a donkey, in fact,--which was so small that its rider's
feet could only be kept from the ground with difficulty. Uncle
Moses, indeed, if he had chosen, might have taken steps on the
ground, and accelerated the motion of his beast by propelling
him with his own feet.

Great was the laughter that arose among the party as each one
mounted his gallant steed, and turned to look upon his companion.
Jeers, and jokes, and light chaff arose, and the boys found n