The Detroit times., 1910-10-05

inous beggars who accost you for
aims at every step on the highway
are mounted, much as Sancho Pan
IA may have been. In front OF every
church, In every praca or square, and
huddled In every crumbling archway
are dozens Of shaggy little donkeys,
each caparisoned with a rope around
! its neck in lieu OF halter or bride,
and a huge wooden saddle upon his
back. and most of them are unhap-
PLY accompanied by barefooted
drivers, also mounted, armed with
iron pointed goads, long as hoe-han-
| dies. They are called into requisi-
ton for the most trifling errands. The
padre will not walk from one square
to the next, II his own, or another's
donkey Is at hand. The servant rides
| to market--the mechanic to his days
labor.
II the farmland has occasion TO
60 from onion field to potato patch,
or the farmers wife wishes bit Of
gossip with her nearest neighbor, or
the country pumpkin a.wooing goes.
each sets out as on a ten days jour
ney, with q kick, a whack and goad
for the poor little beasts that bear
| them, and never a thought that the
| four-footed servitors may occasional
| ly need food and water. The herd
ers who care for the black bulls that
are bred for the pracas das torros
in Lisbon and Oporto, are always
| found with more donkeys than bulls.
The goatherd in the lonely mountains
has his donkey for an inseparable
| companion.
II the cattle In the valleys need
change of pasture, or the shepherd
ers ground IL shifted half mile on
the hillside, preparations are made
as for q pilgrimage half around the
world, and the ragged drovers ride in
state to their new station.
All the highways and byways are
filled with donkey professions Some
are laden with water-cart casks, wear
| lily plodding accustomed beats, often
driverless and unaccompanied, each
wearing an expression Of sturdy res
possibility on his old gray face. Be-
vies of them are completely hidden
under piles Of hay, or cornstalks,
heaped SO high that the green stacks
seem to be Waiting along OF their
own accord, except for bells jangling
In a muffled way under the fodder,
and boys prodding viciously with
their loads.
Peasant women come riding to mar
ket with all manner Of country pro-
duce, from flowers, fruits and vege-
tables to living pigs, kids and chick
ems dangling from the wooden sad
dle-yolkes; rye and corn are brought
down from mountain farms In pam
nlers tree trunks to be converted
into timber, are attached TO a cross
beam laid over the backs of two don
keys, and 30 II goes, to the end Of
the chapter, all the work Of this lazy
people depending largely upon the
tireless and patient beast of Balaam.
Not Conducive to Dignity.
In the cumbersome native saddle,
with their huge wooden Jokes at the
front and back, even men do not sit
astride They ride something as In
the wild Irish jaunting-cars, with both
legs dangling over the right side. and
In moments Of peril clutch the front
yoke with their hands. Undertaking
donkey jpaunt in these parts you
might as well lay aside your dignity
in the beginning, for an attempt to
assume either a graceful or stately
attitude is to render yourself unnec-
essarily ludicrous. II Is better, by
far. to copy the Portuguese etyle OF
riding, doubled up In the for moi a
printers interrogation mark reversed,
maintaining precarious equilibrium by
the under side of the knee joints.
Thus up hill and down dale you
plod. past farms and orchards and
vineyards, with the distant mountains
always in view. Through a constant
succession OF sleepy hamlets, lying
close together. each with its cen.
trail fountain surrounded by lettering
donkeys, peasants and water-carriers;
past frequent wayside shrines, where
Nossa Senhora ("Our Lady,, with
outstretched hands. invites to prayer,
and occasionally wooden crosses, each
erected TO mark a murder, probably
by brigands. Every cross Is sur
rounded by its heap of stones, denot.
ing the petitions OF passing travellers
for the repose Of the unshriven soul,
and you add pebble to the collection.
lest your own meet a similar fate at
the next turn in the road.
Like Don Quixote's Inn.
description OF one rural inn an
swers for all the rest. II Is the posada
of Don Quixote's day, with no alter
rations. Originally built to withstand
a siege. hundreds Of years ago when
abbots, friars and merchants travelled
with treasure, liable to be attacked
at any minute by such grand robbers
as Giraldo, Its walls are many fe~t