Assured personally by the Virgin as to the value of his efforts, Jackass redoubled his exertions. He entered the realm of ecstasy. He forgot to eat or to sleep. He grew thin and feeble. The farm animals began to lay wagers as to how long before Jackass joined his beloved Virgin in Heaven.
A day came when Bull, who until that moment had ignored the spectacle, became sick of all the chatter among his Cows. Bull went to the spring to see for himself and was appalled by what he found. Obviously, Jackass could not be deterred by the scorn of those on earth. Perhaps he would respond to divine mockery.
“Hey, Jackass!” Bull bellowed. “There’s a report from the priest,” he lied. “The Virgin and her boys and their little clique in Heaven are having a laugh at your expense. They've egged on some holy fools in their time, but you win the nut-so follies, hands down.”
As before, Jackass ignored the unkind words, but then, as if on cue, his ancient pail gave way. The bottom ring rusted completely through, clattered to the ground, and the staves separated. Jackass stopped. He blinked. He looked around as if waking from a trance. He saw a polluted spring and his own cracked, infected hooves.
“O Holy Mother of Gods, speak to me!” he brayed.
Silence.
Despair descended upon Jackass. He suffered a crisis of the soul. He fell into the mud and wept.