al nimbleness at the
first stroke of the cane, the Squire caught his foot in the rope, and
went head over heels among the thistles. The donkey gravely bent down,
and thrice smelt or sniffed its prostrate foe; then, having convinced
itself that it had nothing farther to apprehend for the present, and very
willing to make the best of the reprieve, according to the poetical
admonition, "Gather your rosebuds while you may," it cropped a thistle in
full bloom, close to the ear of the Squire; so close indeed, that the
Parson thought the ear was gone; and with the more probability, inasmuch
as the Squire, feeling the warm breath of the creature, bellowed out with
all the force of lungs accustomed to give a view-hallo!

"Bless me, is it gone?" said the Parson, thrusting his person between the
ass and the Squire.

"Zounds and the devil!" cried the Squire, rubbing himself as be rose to
his feet.

"Hush!" said the Parson gently. "What a horrible oath!"

"Horrible oath! If you had my nankeens on," said the Squire, still rubbing
himself, "and had fallen into a thicket of thistles with a donkey's teeth
within an inch of your ear!"

"It is not gone--then?" interrupted the Parson.

"No--that is, I think not," interrupted the Squire dubiously; and he
clapped his hand to the organ in question. "No, it is not gone."

"Thank heaven!" said the good clergyman kindly.

"Hum," growled the Squire, who was now once more engaged in rubbing
himself. "Thank heaven indeed, when I am as full of thorns as a
porcupine! I should just like to know what use thistles are in the
world."

"For donkeys to eat, if you will let them, Squire," answered the Parson.

"Ugh, you beast!" cried Mr. Hazeldean, all his wrath reawakened,
whether by the reference to the donkey species, or his inability to
reply to the Parson, or perhaps by some sudden prick too sharp for
humanity--especially humanity in nankeens--to endure without kicking;
"Ugh, you beast!" he exclaimed, shaking his cane at the donkey, who, at
the interposition of the Parson, had respectfully recoiled a few paces,
and now stood switching his thin tail, and trying vainly to lift one of
its fore legs--for the flies teased it.

"Poor thing!" said the Parson pityingly. "See, it has a raw place on the
shoulder, and the flies have found out the sore."

"I am devilish glad to hear it," said the Squire vindictively.

"Fie, fie!"

"It is very well to say 'Fie, fie.' It was not you who fell among t