A Traveled Donkey by Bert Leston Taylor
But Buddie got no farther. The sound of music came to her ears, and she stopped to listen. The music was faint and sweet, with the sighful quality of an Æolian harp. Now it seemed near, now far. “What can it be?” said Buddie. “Wait here and I’ll find out,” said Snowfeathers. He darted away …