She was foaled at Indian Creek, and one month later, when she was
brought over to Sawyer's Bar, was considered the smallest donkey
ever seen in the foot-hills. The legend that she was brought over
in one of "Dan the Quartz Crusher's" boots required corroboration
from that gentleman; but his denial being evidently based upon a
masculine vanity regarding the size of his foot rather than a
desire to be historically accurate, it went for nothing. It is
certain that for the next two months she occupied the cabin of Dan,
until, perhaps incensed at this and other scandals, she one night
made her way out. "I hadn't the least idee wot woz comin'," said
Dan, "but about midnight I seemed to hear hail onto the roof, and a
shower of rocks and stones like to a blast started in the canyon.
When I got up and struck a light, thar was suthin' like onto a cord
o' kindlin' wood and splinters whar she'd stood asleep, and a hole
in the side o' the shanty, and--no Jinny! Lookin' at them hoofs o'
hern--and mighty porty they is to look at, too--you would allow she
could do it!" I fear that this performance laid the foundation of
her later infelicitous reputation, and perhaps awakened in her
youthful breast a misplaced ambition, and an emulation which might
at that time have been diverted into a nobler channel.
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