DOI article:
Le Gallienne, Richard: Four Prose Francies
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.26392#0259
By Richard Le Gallienne 255
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 per-
fectly 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 c 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,
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 per-
fectly 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 c 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,