Together they made a wide circle of friends, rich in variety because of the differences in their natures. Above all Martin loved them because they did not make fun of his ugliness, because they were simple and honest and completely free of the cruelty and guile and bitter ridicule that he had found in so many of his own kind.

As he walked toward the stable now, both his horses came out to meet him: Devil the fiery black stallion and Witch the fox-red mare. They could leave the stable whenever they wanted to; a gentle push on the swinging door and they were outside. They came ambling freely through the garden, lured forth by the golden spring day and by the sight of their two-legged friend.

Manni the donkey, who had been frisking in the garden, trotted over too to greet Martin. Insistently he pushed his long face close to Martin’s humped chest to be scratched. He lowered his head with pleasure when his master softly stroked the space between his ears. When Martin paused as if he meant to stop, Manni grunted and pushed his head up again, wanting the petting to go on. Martin kept it up for some time, but finally said, “That’s enough now, Manni,” and the donkey at once moved aside.

Lisa the cow also came forward at Martin’s call, and he patted her broad haunches. She drew off with apparent indifference, but in reality she was shy because she was going to have a calf. She was rigidly plump, and almost clumsy in her gait.

Martin stood lovingly by the horses, feeling the silky gentleness of their lips, looking into the dark beauty of their wise eyes. Vigorously he slapped the shining coat of their necks and backs. These animals from his stable made him just as happy as the wild inhabitants of the forest. He was at ease with them all.

At length he turned to walk back to the Lodge. Manni followed him to the very door and received a farewell fondling as reward.

When the donkey returned to the garden, Devil the stallion neighed at him, “You’re always so forward!”

“Forward?” Manni repeated, looking thoughtful. He said nothing for a long time—Devil was always scolding him and trying to start a quarrel—but finally he came to a conclusion. “And you are stupid,” he told Devil.

“Do you mean me?” the stallion burst out.

“You got that much anyhow,” the donkey retorted.

Devil came up to him angrily. “You’ve got nerve! I’d like to show you just once.”

“Show me what?” Manni asked innocently. “I’d like to see.”

Witch the mare intervened. “Don’t get in a row, please! We have such a wonderful life here. You two ought to be good friends.”

Hesitating, Devil mumbled, “I only want to frighten the fresh little nitwit.”

“Well, you haven’t succeeded,” Manni said stolidly. “Besides, I’m not the one who picks the quarrels.”

“There he goes again!” Devil muttered.

Calm and unperturbed, Manni declared, “But, my excitable friend, you started it.”

“Oh, well—” Devil’s tone showed that he wanted to make up. “Are we friends or not?”

“Of course we’re friends”—the donkey grinned—“because I’m so patient when you fly off the handle.”

“There you go insulting me again!” cried the stallion.

“Oh, don’t take it so hard,” the donkey soothed him. “After all, can’t I merely express my opinion?”

The stallion threw back his proud head, “Must you always have the last word?”

“And you the first?”

A loud sigh from the cow interrupted them. “Who cares about me?” Lisa complained.

“What’s the matter?” Witch asked her in concern.

“I’m so afraid,” Lisa quavered, “so afraid.”

“Why?”

“For my baby.”

“You needn’t be afraid for it, you silly creature,” the stallion threw in. “When the time comes, you’ll have your baby and then the matter will be settled.”

Lisa contradicted him. “No, not settled. . . .”

“Nonsense,” Devil exclaimed. “Other mothers bring youngsters into the world. You act as if you were the first one, the only one.”

“That’s not what bothers me.” The cow lowered her head and blew her breath out heavily.

“Then speak up,” Witch urged her. “What are you so upset about?”

“They may take my baby. It’s my first.