dle course, straight onward
through the village, now picturesque in the coloring of a late September
day.

"No, Pepita. You must obey me. If I'm not firm this time, you'll act
worse the next. To the right, amiable beastie!"

Both firmness and sarcasm were wasted. The burro rigidly planted her
forefeet in the dust and sorrowfully dropped her head.

Amy tugged at the bridle.

"Pepita! To--the--right! Go on. In your native Californian--_Vamos!_"

The "Californian" budged not, but posed, an image of dejection. The
happiness of life had departed; the tale of her woe seemed pictured in
every hair of her thickly coated body; she was a broken-hearted donkey.

Amy Kaye was neither broken-hearted nor broken-spirited, and she was
wholly comfortable. Her saddle was soft and fitted well. The air was
delightful. She pulled a book from her pocket and began to read. In five
minutes she was so absorbed that she had forgotten Pepita's little
mannerisms.

After a while the "Californian" moved her head just enough to gain a
corner-wise glimpse of a calm and unresponsive face beneath a scarlet
Tam; and evidently realizing that she had become a mere support to the
maid who owned her, uttered her protest.

"Bra-a-ay! Ah-umph! Ah-umph--umph--mph--ph--h!"

Amy read on.

Pepita changed her tactics. She began to double herself together in a
fashion disconcerting to most riders; whereupon Amy simply drew her own
limbs up out of harm's way and waited for the burro's anatomy to settle
itself in a heap on the ground.

"All right, honey."

Then she resumed her book, and the beast her meditations. Thus they
remained until the rumble of an approaching wagon caused the now
submissive animal to rise and move aside out of the road.

Again Amy tested the bridle, and found that she might now ride whither
she pleased.

"Is it so, beloved? Well, then, that's right; and when you do right
because I make you, it is one lump of sugar. Open your mouth. Here. But,
Pepita, when you do right without compulsion, there are always two
lumps. Into the forest--go!"

Pepita went. Suddenly, swiftly, and so recklessly that Amy nearly slid
over her head.

"Very well! What suits you suits me. I'm as good a sticker-on as you are
a shaker-off. Besides, a word in your ear. It would be quite the proper,
story-book sort of thing for you to try and break my neck, as a
punishment, since I'm almost running away."

Though she had always lived within a few miles of