goes, waving the crows a farewell with his little pocket
handkerchief._]

THE MILLER, HIS SON, AND THEIR DONKEY

TIME: _this morning_.
PLACE: _a bridge, near a town and not far from a Fair_.

* * * * *

THE MILLER AND HIS SON.
FIRST MAID.
SECOND MAID.
THIRD MAID.
FIRST OLD MAN.
SECOND OLD MAN.
THIRD OLD MAN.
FIRST GOODY.
SECOND GOODY.
THIRD GOODY.
THE MAYOR.
HIS FIRST CLERK.
HIS SECOND CLERK.

* * * * *

[_The_ MILLER _and his_ SON _are driving their donkey across the bridge.
They go to the Fair._]

SON. Do you expect to get a good price for our donkey, father?

MILLER (_nodding_). Aye, lad; the Fair is the place to take your wares.

SON. Our donkey is not so young, though.

MILLER. Neither is he so old, though.

SON. But he is not so fat, though.

MILLER. Neither is he so lean, though.

SON. Truly he might be worse.

MILLER. Better or worse, he must be sold.

[THREE MAIDS _enter the bridge. They go to the Fair._]

FIRST MAID (_pointing to the Miller and his Son_). Look there! Did you ever
see such geese?

SECOND MAID. As I live!--walking when they might ride!

THIRD MAID (_to the Miller_). You'll get a laugh at the Fair, old man!

[_The Maids pass on._]

MILLER. This may be true. Get you upon the beast, lad.

[_The boy mounts the donkey. Enter_ THREE OLD MEN. _They talk together
earnestly. They go to the Fair._]

FIRST OLD MAN (_pointing to the Miller and his Son_). Look you there! That
proves what I was saying.

SECOND OLD MAN (_nodding_). Aye! There's no respect shown old age in these
days.

THIRD OLD MAN (_nodding_). Aye! There's that young rogue riding while his
old father has to walk!

[_The Old Men pass on._]

MILLER. Get down, lad. 'T would indeed look better should I ride.

[_The lad dismounts; the Miller mounts. Enter_ THREE GOODIES; _they go to
the Fair._]

FIRST GOODY (_indignantly, pointing to the Miller and his Son_). Look,
Goodies, look! Did you ever see anything so cruel?

SECOND GOODY (_to the Miller_). You lazy old fellow! How can you ride while
your own child walks in the dust?

THIRD GOODY (_to the lad_). You poor, poor child!

[_The Goodies pass on, shaking their heads and their canes indignantly._]

MILLER. Come, lad, get up behind me.

SON. Why, father, I'm not tired!

MILLER. I know, but we must try to please them. Come.

[_The lad mounts, sitting behind his father. Enter