Lloyd Alexander’s first picture book The Four Donkeys appeared in 1972 and has not attracted much attention, as in also the case his many excellent romances written after The Prydain Chronicles (1964-1968).  It was his practice to closely study world literature’s traditional tales seeking inspiration for new works.  In The Four Donkeys, he combined  two well-known fables to create another showing why people with common interests are better served by cooperating than going their own ways.  The Four Donkeys is also a good example of Alexander’s remarkable ability to compose prose in short, easy sentences which rely on the verbs and the verbs and dialogue to move along the plot smoothly.

The picture book also marked the debut of RISD graduate Lester Abrams as a book illustrator, usually remembered for the concept and character art he created for the version of J. R. R.  Tolkien’s The Hobbit produced by Rankin/Bass Studios (Gollum and Bilbo are shown to the right). His drawings of the three silly tradesmen might have walked straight out of Maxfield Parrish’s magazine covers.   The whimsical otter assistant of the tailor and the floral borders help visualize the narrative in vivid comic detail, so much so that the Kirkus reviewer thought that Abrams’ pictures imitating manuscript decorations (more Walter Crane than Jean Fouquet)  were what made the book. They situate the tale in the medievalesque world with no advanced technology with or without magic, the default location for much popular modern imaginative literature for adults and young readers. 

The Three Donkeys sounds as “timeless” as a folk tale because Alexander seamlessly wove together elements from two well-known fables into a new one about a tailor, baker, and shoemaker going to the fair in town.  While the tradesmen pack up their tools and wares, they daydream about all the money they  will make and how they will lay it out, just like the milkmaid in the classic fable who was so preoccupied with imagining how the day’s proceeds would fund the first step to a more comfortable life that she tripped over a rock and dropped the pot of milk which shattered to pieces.  Alexander’s characters are just as guilty of counting their chickens before they are hatched as the milkmaid, but they ought to know better as well-established businessmen competing against one another.  In their eagerness to make a profit that will underwrite the purchase of little luxuries, they forget to be realistic.

The next part of the story is Alexander’s diverting reimagining of the Aesopian fable “The Miller [or old man], his Son, and the Ass.”  Although they hurry to get an early start, there are unanticipated delays.  The shoemaker was going to catch the worm, but stopping for a nap set him back for at least an hour or two. The baker must have the tailor repair his coat before the wagon can be loaded.  The tailor leaves ahead of him, but before he gets very far, his new shoes cripple him with blisters.  The tailor and shoemaker are obliged to beg the baker for a ride and pay for the privilege of crowding into the wagon filled to bursting.

Soon the donkey collapses in the road, igniting a storm of mutual recriminations until it dawns on the three that they can’t stay or go.  The shoemaker’s plan to put the exhausted beast in the cart and pull it themselves to the fair is adopted with some grumbling.  Along the way, they actually stop thinking about their troubles and help each other make the best of a bad business. The shoemaker greases the tailor’s shoes so he can walk in them, the baker provides breakfast for the famished shoemaker, and the tailor agrees to fix the baker’s ruined jacket free of charge.

Of course, they arrive after the fair has closed for the day and have no choice but to turn around and make for home.  Now that they appreciate  how difficult the lot of a donkey really is, they make sure he has oats, a new harness, and a warm blanket before leaving.  Unaccustomed to kind treatment, the donkey rallies and pulls his burden as if it were light as a feather, leading the weary men on foot down the road.  “And so the Tailor, the Baker, and the Shoemaker came home together, a little wiser for having made donkeys of themselves. “ And that’s the end.

Circumstances that day forced them to see the advantages of working together if they were to get to the fair and back, but the last line does not hold out any promise that the experience has changed permanently changed their characters for the better.  Alexander resisted the temptation to end with them all shaking hands and promising to be best friends for the “benefit” of his young audience.  While his books–even the darker historical novels in the Westmark trilogy–always express a certain optimism about human nature with all its faults, they never go so far as to endorse the idea that hard lessons are learned the first, or even the fifth time around.