ve him just a teeny, weeny touch with the whip!
Would you like to see?' The voice had a pleading note in it, and the
blue eyes looked very wistful.

'Oh, no, old man! That would be very unkind. Mother does not punish you
when you are quite a good boy, does she?'

'No--o,' doubtfully. 'Mother, if the whip was to touch him quite by
accident, don't you wonder what he would do? Just put your head down
till I whisper something. Perhaps,' in a low voice, 'he would buck-jump.
Wouldn't that be lovely?'

But Mother, who had already witnessed Tim's acrobatic performance in the
stable yard, did not take advantage of the offer.

'Lovely day,' she called out brightly, to an old woman who was sitting
outside her cottage door. 'How are you feeling? I must come---- ' but
the sentence remained unfinished, for at this point the donkey gave a
violent lurch forward, then, putting his head down, commenced to kick
just as hard as ever he could.

In vain did Mrs. Raeburn try to put a stop to it; neither voice nor whip
made the slightest impression upon him. He seemed to consider it in the
light of an exercise, which, to be of any permanent good, must be
continued for a certain length of time. He finished by backing hard into
the small wooden gate which led into the old woman's trim, old-fashioned
garden. There was a splintering, crackling noise, and Mary jumped out of
the little cart to examine the amount of damage done to the gate. Tim
turned slowly round with quite a vexed look in his eyes, scrutinised the
gate also, then looked at Mary with a reproachful look, as if trying to
lay the blame on her innocent shoulders.

'I _am_ sorry,' murmured Mrs. Raeburn to the old woman, who had hobbled
down to the gate. 'Yes! he is a naughty donkey! I can't think what made
him kick just now. Now, don't you worry about your pretty little gate;
Major Raeburn will have it repaired at once.'

'What can have made him kick just now, Mary?' she said, as they drove
away; but Mary, instead of answering, turned and stared fixedly at
Harry.

As the stare, apparently, had not the desired result, she took hold of
the whip, still firmly clasped between Harry's fat little hands. 'Now
then, Master Harry, what did you do to Tim just now?'

'Well, Mary,' in his most innocent tone of voice, 'I just touched Tim's
back very, very gently with it; just like this, Mother,' and the young
rascal raised the whip to give a demonstration.

Now, unfortunately for the occu