<h3><SPAN name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV">CHAPTER XXV.</SPAN> <br/>Done by a horsetrader</h3>
<p class="toclink"><SPAN href="#TOC-II">TOC</SPAN></p>
<p class="center">BY MAC A'RONY.</p>
<div class="poembox">
<div class="stanzaleft">
<div class="verse0">What made Balaam celebrated as an astronomer?</div>
<div class="verse0">He found an ass-to-roid.<cite>—Old Conundrum.</cite></div>
</div></div>
<p>I had heard about the chilly climate of Norway, and was
not surprised when we donks met with a cold reception.
We had plenty of hay but no grain. Next morning the
landlord said that he expected some oats soon after our
departure.</p>
<p>Pod had walked the last three miles, and warming up,
had strapped his vest to the saddle, where I found it next
morning. Peaking out of a pocket was a crisp five dollar
greenback.</p>
<p>Now, a donkey likes anything that's green. I never
had eaten a vest. But I determined to tackle this somewhat
tough corduroy "steak," and made a fair breakfast
on it, not to speak of its garnishes of green money, lead
pencils, and a scented lace handkerchief, the one my
master had long carried in the left inside pocket. Save
for the fact that I got a few sharp bones of a pocket-comb
in my teeth, and a page of court-plaster stuck in
my throat, I relished the repast.</p>
<p>But not so the Professor. When he had searched
some time for the vest, he looked at me. As luck would
happen, I had left sufficient circumstantial evidence on
the saddle to convict most any donkey, but no one in
particular. However, I suppose I looked guilty, and
my past record was against me. Pod was speechless a
moment, then he made up for lost time, and said that he
believed a jackass would devour a house and lot if he
had the chance.</p>
<p>"I don't know about a house," I replied, "but I know I
could eat a lot if it were set before me." Then I caught
it!</p>
<p>By nine o'clock the clouds having dispersed, we started
for Blairstown.</p>
<p>The Iowa farms were pleasing to my eye. Horses and
cattle were cropping the juicy grass, hogs were shelling
corn or taking mud-baths, fowls of all kinds were engaged
in athletic sports trying to add some new feather
to their plumage, and occasional bunches of sheep were
standing in barnyards and corrals with wool pulled over
their eyes, not knowing what to do with themselves. It
looked like a Garden of Eden, where donkeys were excluded.</p>
<p>Finally we met a farmer with a team of lazy horses.
Pod asked him if a donkey was a known quantity in
those parts, and was told that a man by the name of
K——, living near the next town, owned two that he had
been trying to give away. A mile beyond, we met a man
in a one-horse gig, who had a word to say, too. One
donkey knows another when he meets him.</p>
<p>"Your name is K——?" Pod inquired.</p>
<p>"That's the name I always went by," said the black-eyed,
black-hearted man. I did not like his looks; I
felt it in my bones that Pod was going to be "done" by
him. When a man or donkey is over anxious to acquire
something, he is pretty sure to make a blunder. On being
catechised, the man said his business was "hoss tradin'
some, farmin' some, and various some."</p>
<p>"Hear you've got a donkey for sale," Pod observed.</p>
<p>"Nope," said K——, "but I've got two of 'em. Sell
both er none."</p>
<p>"I was told you have tried to give them away," said
Pod.</p>
<p>The "hoss trader" threw one leg over the other, spat
tobacco juice in Don's eyes so he couldn't see all that
might a-cur, raked timothy seed out of his whiskers, and
inquired, "Who was tellin' ye that?"</p>
<p>"The fellow didn't give his name," answered Pod, "and
I wouldn't undertake to describe his physical geography,
but I could locate him if I wished to."</p>
<p>"If I could lay my hands on him, I'd dislocate him,"
said K——, snapping his eyes.</p>
<p>When my master told about his travels, the Iowan became
interested, and showed signs of weakening on his
ultimatum. Meanwhile, I discovered the subjects of the
discussion grazing in a meadow, and brayed them a
courteous "how to do," thus calling Pod's attention to
them.</p>
<p>The hoss trader was sharp enough to see it, and his
animal instinct told him that vanity was Pod's weak
point; so he opened up with a little blarney.</p>
<p>"Now, Mr. Pod, I'm fair t' say I've sort o' takin' a
likin' to ye, and I want to help ye along. I'll sell both
my donkeys for ten dollars, er one for five and trade the
other for one of your'n. Jest let your partner here run
across the field and drive 'em over. I want ye to see
'em."</p>
<p>Coonskin went, and K—— continued: "They're two
as fine-lookin' jennies as ye'll run across in many a day,
both healthy and strong—not too young—not too old—often
plow with 'em—kind and gentle—boy rides 'em
everywhere—fast, too, but no danger runnin' away.
Why, they're twice the size o' your'n, and 'll carry double
the load."</p>
<p>"I'm more than satisfied with my donkeys" (very
flattering to Cheese and myself), Pod affirmed, "and
only require one more. If I am suited with one of your
donkeys, I am willing to pay five dollars for it, but I
will not trade one of mine, nor will I purchase both of
yours."</p>
<p>By this time the animals arrived. They were certainly
big enough, and as for the danger of their running away,
they didn't act as if they could run ten feet if charged
with a thousand volts of electricity. The farmer said he
was bound to make a satisfactory deal with Pod somehow,
and that if he wasn't convinced by the time we
reached his house that both animals weren't superior to
either of his (an absurdity on the face of it), then he
would consider some other proposition.</p>
<p>When we reached the house, Cheese and I were generously
fed, and Pod and Coonskin invited into dinner.
Then K—— chased his donks around the yard, and
felt them all over, and finally hoodwinked my master to
buy one, and trade the other for Cheese. I could have
kicked the daylight out of that man.</p>
<p>When K—— was on his way to town with his five dollars,
Pod came to the stable. My new companions were
crabbed old spinsters, and raised some objections to going
with me.</p>
<p>"Where are you bound?" one asked.</p>
<p>"San Francisco," said I, "but I don't know where that
is any more than do you. Guess it's land's end." Then
I told them how far I had come, and that Pod said only
a few days before that the journey had only begun; also,
that he expected we donks would fall off some before
long, from which I inferred the fall would be gradual and
the horrors of death prolonged.</p>
<p>It was enough to frighten the wits out of any old maid,
and it took a pitchfork, two hoe-handles and a crowbar
to get those donkeys out of the gate. Then one of them
balked, kicked, threw Coonskin, broke her halter, and
ran back into the yard. She could run after all.</p>
<p>That was enough for Pod. He rode me back into the
yard, and told Coonskin to fetch Cheese out of the barn.
And it didn't take him long to shift the blanket from that
gray spinster to my old chum.</p>
<p>"You just tell your dad when he returns," said Pod
to K——'s son, "that I don't intend to put up with any
such game. He grossly misrepresented that donkey; it
would take a week to travel a mile with her. As I have
paid him for the other one, she belongs to me and I shall
push her along with the outfit. But this animal," and he
pointed to Cheese, "is mine yet awhile. Good-bye."</p>
<p>"Do as you like," K——, Jr., replied. "I know nothin'
'bout yer agreement."</p>
<p>We covered the first mile in slow time. Coonskin's
new steed was forever stopping, and straying out of the
road to eat grass. The young man wore himself out
keeping her moving by rapping her with the flat side of
a hatchet. This big, brown jenny was made of the right
stuff, but evidently lacked training and experience.</p>
<p>We were yet a half mile to Blairstown when a young
woman and a child drove toward us with a skittish horse.
It acted as though it had never seen a donkey. It
pricked up its ears, and snorted, and, so help me Balaam!
in a jiffy that buggy was on its side, the girls on the
ground, and the horse running to beat a cyclone. Luckily,
the girls escaped injury. My master was as frightened
as he was chivalrous, and assisting the girls to their
feet, invited them to ride us donkeys to town; which
kind offer was respectfully declined.</p>
<p>On our arrival, Pod took us to a blacksmith's to have
the new donkey's fore feet measured for a pair of shoes.
The smith seemed to be much taken with me, and said
I had the smallest feet of all the gentlemen donks he ever
met. The remark so tickled my vanity that I nibbled at
his coat tail, whereupon he turned to me and inquired,
"What kind of a donkey are you? Chinese?"</p>
<p>"Not much," said I, indignantly, "My name is Irishy,
and I always supposed I was a thoroughbred Irish ass,
but I'm beginning to believe I'm a roamin' donkey, after
all."</p>
<p>I could see that Pod expected trouble from some quarter,
but none of us knew just where the lightning would
strike. The next village, Luzerne, lay fifteen miles to
the west. My lady companion did not carry herself too
gracefully, nor her rider, either. She was broad and flat
across the hips, and, as Coonskin did not possess a saddle,
he found it more comfortable to sit far back on her
where he could get a good swing of the fence rail he substituted
for a whip.</p>
<p>We were ambling peacefully along the dusty road late
in the afternoon, when Pod broke the silence with a word
to his valet.</p>
<p>"Well, Coonskin," said he, "what 're you going to call
your donkey?"</p>
<p>"Damfino," said Coonskin; and he added, with a
drawl, "Git ap."</p>
<p>"You ought to have found a suitable name by this
time."</p>
<p>"I <em>have</em> named her," emphasized the young man.</p>
<p>"Good!" shouted the Professor. "Let's have it then."</p>
<p>"Damfino," yelled Coonskin, with a wild swing of the
fence rail.</p>
<p>Pod's face turned on its axis with a puzzled expression,
as his eyes regarded the hopeful pioneer. Said he,
"See here, young man, I know not whether my ears deceive
me, or you are not up on my dialect; you say you
have named the donkey, yet, when I ask the name, your
answer implies a contradiction. Again, what is her
name?"</p>
<p>Coonskin drew a long breath, and said loud enough
to be heard a mile away, "Damfino."</p>
<p>As the fellow uttered the word, I dropped to the joke
and, stopping in the road, brayed till my sides ached.</p>
<p>A new light now came into the Professor's eyes, and
he smiled. "Damfino, then, is the lady's angelic name,"
said he resignedly. "It's odd, it's not inappropriate. Let
it stand."</p>
<p>"Very well," returned Coonskin, "I will proceed with
the ceremony." And letting the fence rail fall on his
steed's rear quarter, he added, "In the name of the great
and only Balaam, I christen thee Damfino." It was an
interesting event. Thenceforth Cheese and I resolved
to be more choice in our language and decorous in our
manners in Miss Damfino's presence; and we lived up
to our pledge two hours before Cheese called Don and
the bull-terrier bad names for accidentally upsetting Miss
Damfino with their yoke, and I kicked the tired and
panting mongrel in the neighborhood of its pants.</p>
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