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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