There he
stood, poor rogue, part puzzled, part angry, part, I believe, amused.
He had not given up hope, and dully revolved the problem in his head,
giving ever and again another jerk at the few inches of free rope
that still remained unwound. A humorous sort of sympathy for the
creature took hold upon me. I went up, and, not without some trouble
on my part, and much distrust and resistance on the part of Neddy,
got him forced backwards until the whole length of the halter was set
loose, and he was once more as free a donkey as I dared to make him.
I was pleased (as people are) with this friendly action to a fellow-
creature in tribulation, and glanced back over my shoulder to see how
he was profiting by his freedom. The brute was looking after me; and
no sooner did he catch my eye than he put up his long white face into
the air, pulled an impudent mouth at me, and began to bray
derisively. If ever any one person made a grimace at another, that
donkey made a grimace at me. The hardened ingratitude of his
behaviour, and the impertinence that inspired his whole face as he
curled up his lip, and showed his teeth, and began to bray, so
tickled me, and was so much in keeping with what I had imagined to
myself about his character, that I could not find it in my heart to
be angry, and burst into a peal of hearty laughter.
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