All went well at first, and Mary was delighted.

'Donkeys can be so nasty,' she said, 'but this one is a perfect little
dear, Miss.'

At this moment Tim saw something very interesting in the hedge, and
turned across the road to examine it.

'Oh, you naughty donkey,' exclaimed the girl, 'I can't allow you to do
that,' and she gave the rein a sharp pull to bring him into the road
again.

Tim, however, took not the slightest notice, but continued his
examination.

'We really must get him to move,' murmured Aunt Mollie, anxiously, 'for
we are right across the road, so that nothing can pass us.'

Meanwhile poor Mary was using every effort to get him away from the
hedge.

'Don't you be nervous, Miss,' said the girl cheerfully; 'nothing ever
comes along this road, for it only leads to the Mill Farm.'

Mary's words were greeted by a loud 'Hullo!' from the driver of a
baker's van that was coming along the road behind them at a sharp pace.

'Oh, dear! oh, dear!' murmured Mary, 'it's Crawford the baker! What will
he think when he sees that I am beaten by a little donkey? Can you
drive, Miss? Perhaps you could make him go.'

Miss Raeburn shook her head ruefully. She was a Londoner, and her
knowledge of animals was extremely limited.

'What shall we do?' she said nervously, and mentally she drew an awful
picture in which the baker's weary-looking horse became a spirited
charger, dashed into the donkey-cart, and trampled the whole party to
death.

In vain did Mary, now desperate, bring the whip across Tim's fat,
well-groomed sides; he merely shook his long ears, whisked his tail
angrily against the shafts, and resumed his investigation in the hedge.

'Let me see if I can help you,' called the young baker at last. 'Donkeys
are artful little things; but perhaps if I get him round again, he will
follow my van; that is to say, if I can pass in this narrow road.' As he
spoke he took Tim firmly by the head.

For a second or two the donkey tossed his head in a vain endeavour to
free himself; then he gave the baker one of his gentlest glances and
stepped round into the road.

'Oh, thank you so much,' said Aunt Mollie, as the baker carefully drove
his van past the little cart; but poor Mary only hung her head. She had
been beaten by a little donkey!

'Perhaps he will follow if I give him a lead,' suggested the obliging
young man; 'but if I were in your place, I would take him home by
another road. Coop, coop, coop!' he ca