tle rest," he said.

That _was_ a sleep! He slept like the seven sleepers, and he dreamed the
most beautiful things you could imagine. At last, he dreamed that he had
entered the castle of fortune and was being received with great
festivities. Everything he wanted was brought to him, and music played
while fireworks were set off in his honour. The music was so loud that
he awoke. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, and behold, the fireworks were
the very last rays of the setting sun, and the music was the voice of
the other traveller, passing the grove on foot!

"Time to be off," said the lazy man, and looked about him for the pretty
horse. No horse was to be found. The only living thing near was an old,
bony, grey donkey. The man called, and whistled, and looked, but no
little horse appeared. After a long while he gave it up, and, since
there was nothing better to do, he mounted the old grey donkey and set
out again.

The donkey was slow, and he was hard to ride, but he was better than
nothing; and gradually the lazy man saw the towers of the castle draw
nearer.

Now it began to grow dark; in the castle windows the lights began to
show. Then came trouble! Slower, and slower, went the grey donkey;
slower, and slower, till, in the very middle of a pitch-black wood, he
stopped and stood still. Not a step would he budge for all the coaxing
and scolding and beating his rider could give. At last the rider kicked
him, as well as beat him, and at that the donkey felt that he had had
enough. Up went his hind heels, and down went his head, and over it went
the lazy man on to the stony ground.

There he lay groaning for many minutes, for it was not a soft place, I
can assure you. How he wished he were in a soft, warm bed, with his
aching bones comfortable in blankets! The very thought of it made him
remember the Castle of Fortune, for he knew there must be fine beds
there. To get to those beds he was even willing to bestir his poor
limbs, so he sat up and felt about him for the donkey.

No donkey was to be found.

The lazy man crept round and round the spot where he had fallen,
scratched his hands on the stumps, tore his face in the briers, and
bumped his knees on the stones. But no donkey was there. He would have
laid down to sleep again, but he could hear now the howls of hungry
wolves in the woods; that it did not sound pleasant. Finally, his hand
struck against something that felt like a saddle. He grasped it,
thankfully, a