Donkey Riding. 77 her hand to shake. She claimed me as an old friend, and began afresh to introduce me to her sisters as "the poor man to whom papa had given this very same shirt." This brought forth some accounts of upsets that the ladies had had in the river, for they sometimes forded it on a donkey, having to lift their feet on to his back, which, they said, made them very liable to an upset. One sister told me that their donkey had a very mischievous trick of squatting in the river, without any consideration whatever for the rider; and for that reason they always preferred the corial in passing over to the townside. I was very pleased with my visit, and told them that I was indebted to my misfortune for this good fortune; and promised to see them again on my return from Pun Ceres. CHAPTER IX. PUN CERES. EARLY next morning my companion for Pun Ceres was ready. We descended to the river and forded it, not higher than the hip, and then got into a pleasant, quiet country of low trees and wild flowers. At ten o'clock we arrived at a grazing farm on a savanna. We met the owner, who took not the slightest notice of me. Nor did he seem to regard my fellow-traveller with much attention. He was dressed in the usual country style; a common kerchief on his head, short trowsers, loose shirt or jumper, a leathern girt, and a long knife suspended in a case by his side. The horse he rode was a magnificent one, and seemed to me a nobler animal than his master. The comparison recalled to my memory the story of Lemuel Gulliver's experiences in the country of the Houyhnhnms and the Yahoos. Perhaps my A Cool Reception. 79 being hungry and not invited to eat sharpened the resemblances. I have since schooled myself into not despising a man for any apparent trait in his character, which may at the time seem unamiable, and even improper; because it may not be natural to him, but practised and persevered in even against the impulses of his own disposition, for some reason laudable, but to me inscrutable. For instance, how unjustly am I acting by blaming a man's meanness for not asking me to breakfast, when all the time he is suffering, and contending with his feelings of hospitality, from want of means. I was unjust once to a gentleman in another country, who, knowing that I passed his place once-a-week to bathe at a cascade half-a-mile off, kindly invited me to call in and take a cup of coffee always after my bath. The next week I went to the cascade with two companions, and on our return, I mentioned the invitation, and asked them to come in with me. Mr Freceived us coldly, I thought, and did not offer us even a glass of water. course, when I and my companions left the house Of we abused him roundly. But the matter was put in quite a different light when on meeting Mr Fa few days later, he smilingly observed, "I can always afford a cup of coffee to my friend; but not always to my friend's friends." I saw at once that I had acted presumptuously, and I apologised. We did not remain longer at the hato, or cattle farm, than to roast some tasajo. After crossing a rivulet we entered a forest, and continued our journey until we got to a beautiful stream. On the other bank was a hill which had the appearance of a neglected cultivation. We sat down and ate our breakfast, after which the revenue guard stretched himself out and began to sing one of the improvised songs peculiar to his people. Some one from the hill, hearing his voice (he sang sweetly) recognised him, and came down to talk with him. He seemed so glad to meet his friend, that he instantly rose up, and requesting me to await his return, crossed the stream and ascended the hill in company with the other. "Solitude is sometimes best society," and I felt it so now; for after a comfortable bath, I sat down and listened for the first time to the notes of the campanero, or bell bird, as they rang through the forest, reminding me, I know not why, of the quiet parish church in my younger days; then of the fond cares of a loving mother; then schooldays and the pleasure that the lads would have had to have been here with me; forgetting that all are not like schoolboys who have counted twenty-five years. The music of the clear water rippling over the pebbles, and the seeming haste of the little stream to mix with the large and murky river, reminded me of my own youthful, hopeful aspirations to mix with men in this great world; and I sat half-pleased, half-sorrowful, musing on the effects of that same great world on my erst young and pure mind. What connection can a sunbeam, can sounds new and strange, have with old and familiar thoughts? Cowper gives expression to the fact without assigning the cause : "There is in souls a sympathy with sounds; |