made him forget his hide—­a dream that drew up all the sensitiveness from every part, from hoof, and hide, and ears, so that all the feeling in his whole body was centred in his eyes and brain, and those, as we have said, were centred on a star.  He took it for granted that his fellows should sneer and kick-out at him—­it was ever so with genius among the donkeys, and he had very soon grown used to these attentions of his brethren, which were powerless to withdraw his gaze from the star he loved.  For though he loved all the stars, as every individual man loves all women, there was one star he loved more than any other; and standing one midnight among his thistles, he prayed a prayer, a prayer that some day it might be granted him to carry that star upon his back—­which, he recalled, had been sanctified by the holy sign—­were it but for ever so short a journey.  Just to carry it a little way, and then to die.  This to him was a dream beyond the dreams of donkeys.

‘Now, one night,’ continued my friend, taking breath for himself and me, ’our poor donkey looked up to the sky, and lo! the star was nowhere to be seen.  He had heard it said that stars sometimes fall.  Evidently his star had fallen.  Fallen! but what if it had fallen upon the earth?  Being a donkey, the wildest dreams seemed possible to him.  And, strange as it may seem, there came a day when a poet came to his master and bought our donkey to carry his little child.  Now, the very first day he had her upon his back, the donkey knew that his prayer had been answered, and that the little swaddled babe he carried was the star he had prayed for.  And, indeed, so it was; for so long as donkeys ask no more than to fetch and carry for their beloved, they may be sure of beauty upon their backs.  Now, so long as this little girl that was a star remained a little girl, our donkey was happy.  For many pretty years she would kiss his ugly muzzle and feed his mouth with sugar—­and thus our donkey’s thoughts sweetened day by day, till from a natural pessimist he blossomed into a perfectly absurd optimist, and dreamed the donkiest of dreams.  But, one day, as he carried the girl who was really a star through the spring lanes, a young man walked beside her, and though our donkey thought very little of his talk—­in fact, felt his plain “hee-haw” to be worth all its smart chirping and twittering—­yet it evidently pleased the maiden.  It included quite a number of vowel-sounds—­though, if the maiden had only known, it didn’t mean half so much as the donkey’s plain monotonous declaration.

’Well, our donkey soon began to realise that his dream was nearing its end; and, indeed, one day his little mistress came bringing him the sweetest of kisses, the very best sugar in the very best shops, but for all that our donkey knew that it meant good-bye.  It is the charming manner of English girls to be at their sweetest when they say good-bye.