The Donkey Who Would Sing

A jackal who knew a gap in every fence in the district took a donkey as his partner in crime, chiefly because a donkey can carry more melons in his stomach than a jackal can carry in his mouth.

JackalEat quickly and quietly, friend. A garden at night belongs to whoever makes the least noise in it.

The donkey ate until his sides had opinions of their own, and stood under the full moon feeling, for the first time in his life, like a poet.

DonkeySuch a night deserves a voice. I have always had a fine one — I intend to sing before we go.

JackalA donkey's voice is not the gift you think it is. Every farmer within a mile owns a stick, and every stick knows exactly what that sound means.

DonkeyYou have never heard me sing, or you would not speak so carelessly.

The jackal, who valued his own skin over the argument, slipped through the fence and left the matter to settle itself, which it did, loudly.

The bray rolled over the sleeping village like a second dawn. Lanterns woke. Sticks woke with them. The gardener arrived to find, at last, a face to put to his missing melons.

The jackal watched the beating from the safety of the tree line and did not consider it his business to explain what he had already said. A gift admired only by its owner should perhaps be kept for private evenings.