At last the donkey grew so old that he was no longer of any use for work, and his master wished to get rid of him.
The donkey, fearing he might be killed, ran away.
He took the road to Bremen, where he had often heard the street band playing.
He liked music, so he thought he might join the band.
He had not gone far when he came upon an old dog.
The dog was panting, as if he had been running a long way.
"Why are you panting, my friend?" asked the donkey.
"Ah," said the dog, "I am too old for the hunt. My master wished to have me killed. So I ran away. But how I am to find bread and meat, I do not know."
"Well," said the donkey, "come with me. I am going to play in the band at Bremen. I think you and I can easily earn a living by music. I can play the lute, and you can play the kettledrum."
The dog was quite willing, and so they be walked on.

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