Page 10 - The Traveler and the Donkey final inside 18a
P. 10
The Traveller hummed his happy song,
‘though the going got hard,and the road seemed so long.
The donkey muttered beneath his breath,
“Poor me! I’m getting worked to death!”
Days came and went with landscape changing,
with baskets, bags and yoke exchanging.
The donkey’s face grew ever sour,
and his countenance grew ever dour.
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