An old man, riding on his ass,
Had found a spot of thrifty grass,
And there turned loose his weary beast.
Old Grizzle, pleased with such a feast,
Flung up his heels, and capered round,
Then rolled and rubbed upon the ground,
And frisked and browsed and brayed,
And many a clean spot made.
Armed men came on them as he fed:
“Let’s fly,” in haste the old man said.
“And wherefore so?” the ass replied;
“With heavier burdens will they ride?”
“No,” said the man, already started.
“Then,” cried the ass, as he departed
“I’ll stay, and be no matter whose;
Save you yourself, and leave me loose
But let me tell you, ere you go,
My master is my only foe.”