German couple leading a dainty little Nanny-goat by a string. Now, it
had been a long time since Billy had met a pretty Nanny and his heart
fairly thumped with joy as he pranced up to make friends with her, but
here is where he made a mistake. In his joy at seeing her pretty face
he had forgotten that he must needs be introduced before approaching
a strange Nanny, and this young thing proved to be unusually timid,
so when she saw a big strange Billy-goat running toward her as if he
had known her since she was a baby kid, she promptly dodged behind
her mistress. Billy, nothing daunted, followed after her. As his head
appeared at one side of the old fat woman, Nanny’s appeared at the
other, and the faster she ran the faster he followed. This they kept
up until the poor woman was wound round and round by the cord, so that
she could not move and, being equally as timid as her little charge,
she at last fainted and fell forward on the walk, knocking Billy off
of his feet and throwing Nanny down upon her knees. When Billy saw the
mischief he had been the cause of, and also saw the old woman’s husband
coming after him with a thick club, he wisely disappeared round the
first corner, pondering in his mind over the foolishness of young kids
in general and of this one in particular.
_Billy, the Christmas Tree, and the Irishwoman._
The night before Christmas, Billy Jr. was prowling around, feeling
lonely and unhappy and wishing that he were back again with his father
and mother for the holidays at least. Chancing to look through a
window from which the light was streaming, what should he see but a
beautiful Christmas tree! And more wonderful still, who do you suppose
was trimming it? None other than old Santa Claus himself. Billy
quickly stationed himself directly in front of the window and gazed
with longing eyes upon the many attractive gifts being tied upon the
tree. “Oh, my! Just wouldn’t I like to get a nibble at that big red
apple hanging near the very top of the tree. Yes, and there is a fine
cornucopia filled with all kinds of goodies that I could eat if I had
the chance, and without a grain of salt, either.” But Santa Claus
continued his work, utterly unconscious of the greedy eyes blinking at
him from the outer darkness.
Presently Billy Jr. said, “I wonder whose house this is and how many
children live here.” Almost as if in answer to his question a quick
step sounded on the walk, and to his utter disgust, the hated fireman
ascended the steps and entered the house with his latch key.
“Well, I declare,” said Billy, “it’s a shame for a man like that to
have such a lovely Christmas tree. I’ll venture to say that Santa Claus
does not know how unkind he is to animals or he would never help him to
trim his tree.”
As soon as the last gift was disposed of, Santa Claus raised the window
to keep the room cool so that the tree might not wilt, then he quickly
put out the lights; and hark! I hear sleigh bells! Yes, there he goes
with his reindeer over the tops of the houses. Swiftly and merrily
he drives, stopping at every fireside to bring joy and some little
remembrance of his good will to all.
“Now that he has gone and the window is open, what is to hinder me from
climbing in and tasting a few of the Christmas dainties? I am sure a
few would not be missed and I can see my way clearly, as that electric
light across the street shines straight into the room, making it as
light as day. There is a packing box just under the window that I can
jump upon, and from that I can easily get into the window.” So, without
any more ado Billy climbed in and at once began to eat the dainties he
had coveted.
The first thing he took was the big red apple, then the cornucopia of
nuts and candies, next he licked a lemon-candy dog, after this he ate
a popcorn ball or two, then he spied a bunch of yellow carrots on an
upper branch. These he _must_ have (not knowing that they were made of
silk and to be used as a pin cushion). So he raised himself on his hind
legs and tried to reach them, but they were _just_ beyond his nose.
He gave a little spring, but missed again, and, worse still, his feet
struck the table which the tree stood upon and over it went, burying
the luckless Billy under it, while tin horns, candies, toy horses,
and all, rattled round him in hopeless confusion. The noise awoke the
fireman, and he and his wife came hurrying into the room, thinking to
find burglars. They did not see Billy, for as they opened the door he
jumped out of the window, and to this day they do not know _who_ upset
the Christmas tree.
One day when Billy was wandering idly about he saw one of the firemen
walking across lots, carrying a bundle which he knew was intended for
the washerwoman. Having nothing special to do, he followed and soon
overtook him. The fireman gave him a chew of tobacco and was surprised
to find that instead of spluttering, making a fuss, and spitting it out
of his mouth, he chewed it like an old-timer and seemed to enjoy it,
his beard going up and down in that queer way that men’s do when they
are chewing.
“Well, Billy, how are you, and how has the world been using you since
last we met? Let me see, the last time I saw you, you were trying to
decide whether to come down a flight of stairs or whether to slide down
a greased pole, were you not?” And with such pleasant converse the man
and goat walked along side by side until they reached the washerwoman’s
shanty. She was a jolly, red-faced Irishwoman, somewhat pie-crusty in
temper, but nevertheless an excellent laundress, and all would have
been well had not Billy accidentally tramped with his muddy feet on
some fine clothes that had been spread on the grass to whiten. Seeing
his footmarks upon the dainty pieces with which she had taken such
pains, she snatched up a dipper of hot water and threw it at Billy,
calling out as she did so:
“You miserable baste, if ye come around here with your dirty fate
again, a-spilin’ my nice, clean clothes, I’ll brake yer ugly neck fer
ye, that I will. Bedad it’s no fun doin’ thim fine petticoats agin.
Sure and it ain’t.”
Our Billy Jr., having the grace to see that he was at fault, and that
his carelessness had been the cause of making unnecessary work to the
irate Irishwoman, meekly turned away and returned home without waiting
for the fireman.
The next day Billy thought he would stroll back to the washerwoman’s
place to find out if she were still angry with him, and also to play
some trick upon her (if he could) in return for the throwing of the
hot water. He first peeked through a crack in the fence to see if she
were hanging out clothes, but not seeing her, he crawled through a hole
where some boards had fallen down and, keeping a sharp lookout about
him, he caught sight of her coming from the kitchen. He kept out of
sight until she disappeared within a neighbor’s house, then he walked
straight to the kitchen door, stuck his head inside and, as no one was
about, he boldly walked in to see if he could find what it was smelt so
good. He had not far to look, for just before him stood a table, and on
it was placed the mid-day meal which the washerwoman had prepared for
her husband.
“My, but it smells good and I am as hungry as a bear,” and Billy,
without a twinge of conscience, helped himself to the nice, mealy
potatoes, cabbage and cornbeef, and the bread, even licking the crumbs
from the plate, and leaving only the empty dishes for the poor hungry
husband.
Just as he was taking a last reluctant lick at the cabbage plate, he
heard some one coming and, in turning quickly to escape, he upset a
clothes-horse full of clothes so that they fell upon the stove, where
they soon caught fire, and the flames spreading to the woodwork of the
shanty, the whole structure was in a blaze before you could say Jack
Robinson.
Billy escaped without even singeing a hair and started on a dead run
down the block. When he finally turned to look back, flames and smoke
were pouring from windows and doors, while the poor laundress stood
in the yard wringing her hands in sore distress, and watching all her
earthly belongings go up in smoke.
“It’s too bad,” said Billy; “I did not mean to burn her home; I only
intended to annoy her and eat her husband’s dinner; but, never mind,
there go the firemen to the rescue. They will soon put out the flames,”
and with a whisk of his tail Billy ran off to look for more mischief.
Billy was growing tired of the location in which he lived, so he
decided to leave the firemen and seek a more fashionable quarter of the
city, consequently he selected Knob Hill as being quite to his liking.
When the firemen went to feed Billy, one morning, he was nowhere in
sight. They whistled again and again, but there was no response. He
came neither to luncheon nor to supper, but the men thought nothing of
this, as he often absented himself for a day or two at a time, but when
three, four, five, and six days passed and still Billy did not make his
appearance, they felt sure that he had been stolen or had wandered off
and been shut up in some barn. They waited a day or two and finally
advertised for him by nailing up a large red poster illustrated with a
handsome black goat, and offering a liberal reward for his return or
for information as to his whereabouts.
Billy laughed way down in his whiskers when he saw the gorgeous poster
and the representation of himself, and then he walked up and tore it
off the boards. But while in the act of doing this he was recognized by
a lot of boys as the goat advertised for, and they quickly pursued him,
hoping to claim the reward offered. Need we say that before they had
finished with Billy they wondered who in the world could want such a
goat? As for themselves, they would have been glad to pay to get rid of
him.
Two boys finally got a rope around his neck and thought themselves
wonderfully smart for doing so, but they little dreamed that our Billy
had allowed them to do it for a purpose of his own. As soon as the
rope was securely tied and the boys had a tight hold of the ends, he
started, and now the fun began.
Billy was a sturdy fellow, possessed of a certain grim sense of humor,
so in a seemingly guileless, innocent manner he lowered his head
and trotted along at a steady gait, choosing all the rough, stubbly
places in the road, never missing a mud-hole, never passing an ash
heap; through the one, over the other he went, dragging the boys
after him, and when they attempted to hold him back or to stop him, he
simply quickened his pace and went flying through narrow alleys, over
and amongst heaps of rubbish, jerking them to their feet at times,
or upsetting them with scant ceremony, as the case might be, so that
finally rope and boys became hopelessly entangled, and the boys could
not let go if they would, but were completely at Billy’s mercy. But, at
last, the rope got twisted around a lamp-post and then it broke, giving
the boys their liberty very suddenly. By this time they had lost all
thought or desire for a reward and Billy left them with a satisfied
twinkle in his eye and a subtle smile well hidden under his long
whiskers.
[Illustration]
_Billy Jr. Has Some New Experiences._
On his way back to Knob Hill, Billy passed a magnificent mansion with
shades down and the gas lighted inside.
“Now, what in the world is the matter with the people who live there?”
he mused; “are they lunatics that they close the curtains, shut out the
sunshine, and then light the gas at three o’clock in the afternoon? And
what is that long tunnel-like, canopied passage that extends from the
curbing to the front door? I believe they call it an awning. It is not
raining, what do they want it for? I must get nearer and see about it.”
So Billy walked to the side opening in the awning and looked in. The
front door of the house was wide open and he could hear the strains of
a mandolin orchestra from within, while the perfume from many flowers
was wafted to his nostrils. Not a person was in sight.
“How strange,” thought Billy, “to leave a front door wide open and no
one to watch it! Guess I will walk up and see how it looks inside.”
Accordingly he walked bravely up to the door and looked in.
Such gorgeousness he had never even dreamed of. There were flowers and
palms in bewildering profusion. There were draperies and furniture of
Oriental magnificence, and hundreds of electric bulbs with shades of
varied colorings which lit up the scene, while soft, dreamy music made
one feel as if he were indeed in fairyland. As in a dream Billy walked
up the broad flight of stairs leading to the second floor and from the
first room to the right he could hear voices and subdued laughter,
while from an adjoining room came the admonition, “Girls, stop
chattering and finish dressing, for your guests will soon be here.”
Then Billy knew that an afternoon reception was to be held here and
that was why the shades were drawn and the gas lighted; for it is not
fashionable to have sunlight at these affairs. Complexions and gowns
look better by gaslight.
When Billy heard the voices, he turned and walked into the front room.
This apartment was furnished in keeping with the magnificence of
the parlor floor. White woodwork, mahogany chairs and table, a high
four-poster bed with satin and lace coverings, silver toilet articles
on the dresser, silver and cut glass vases everywhere filled with pink
roses and white hyacinths, and again, a multitude of soft-tinted lights
which enhanced the beauty of everything the eye rested upon.
[Illustration: BILLY GAVE ONE LEAP WHICH CARRIED HIM AHEAD OF THE
DOG.]
“The scent of the flowers reminds me of the clover in the meadows. I
must have a taste of them.” So Billy tasted and then ate one entire
bouquet, for the flavor was so fine he could not stop at one bite.
Then, beginning to feel the effects of his wearisome escapade with the
boys, and lulled by the warmth, light, perfume, and music surrounding
him, he jumped up in the middle of the beautiful bed, and stretched
himself out on the exquisite pink satin and lace coverlet preparatory
to enjoying a good rest. Nothing was too good for the use of Billy Jr.
When the first guests entered the room they scarcely glanced at the
bed, going first to the mirror to adjust their hair and repowder their
noses. Suddenly, one of the ladies dropped the comb with a clatter,
her eyes nearly dropping from their sockets and her face blanched with
surprise and fear, for, reflected in the mirror, she saw two long horns
suddenly raised from what she had supposed to be a black fur coat,
and, screaming at the top of her voice, she turned and stood staring
with open-eyed wonder at the sight before her. Her screams brought
the entire household scrambling to the scene. She could not explain
but dropped into a chair, completely overcome. Words, however, were
needless, for there stood Billy in the middle of the great four-poster,
self-convicted, and quite as surprised as any of the onlookers. For a
moment he did not know which way to turn, but finally, seeing a door
opposite the one in which the people all stood, he jumped for that
and from there made his escape into a small room which connected with
the hall. Down the steps he went, upsetting the fat butler with whom
he came in contact on his way down and, without pausing to offer his
apologies, hastened into the street and hurriedly left the neighborhood.
[Illustration]
The goat episode was the main topic of conversation that afternoon
among the fair five hundred, and Billy would have been flattered could
he have heard himself described as “fierce-looking as a lion and as
large as a bear.”
After Billy Jr. left the house where the reception was being held, he
wandered around not knowing where to go. He began to feel lonesome
and hungry and almost wished he had stayed with the firemen and old
One-horn, even if his life with them was a monotonous one.
Presently, all thought of lonesomeness and hunger was driven from his
mind by the sight of some boys coming around the corner whipping a
large St. Bernard dog that was hitched to a little cart. When they saw
Billy, they cried:
“Oh, see the dandy goat. Let’s catch him and hitch him up to your cart,
Ned, and have a race. What do you say, is it a go?”
“You had better let them catch you, stranger,” barked the dog, “or they
will club and beat you when they do get you.”
“Not until I have given them a chase,” bleated the goat, and with that
he stood as if he were going to be an easy catch, until they tried to
put their hands on him. Then he stood on his hind legs and whirled
round and round like a circus-goat, facing them all the time between
the whirls, so the boys did not know how to get hold of him in this
position, besides they were afraid he would butt or kick them.
All this pleased the dog immensely and he laughed until his sides
shook. Presently, Billy Jr. heard cart-wheels on the sidewalk and he
knew Ned was returning with his cart. As the boy approached, Billy
Jr. converted his hind legs, which he had been using as stilts, into
kickers. Then with a bleat that meant “Oh, no you don’t,” he jumped
over the low iron fence beside which he was standing and disappeared
round the corner of a big brown-stone house that stood in the middle of
a large yard, while, of course, all the boys came tagging after. Hero,
the St. Bernard dog, forgetting the wagon he was hitched to, jumped
too, breaking loose as he went over the fence.
As Billy rounded the corner of the house, he ran into the laundress,
who was carrying in her arms a big basket of clothes piled so high that
she could not see what hit her, until she found herself flat on the
ground with her basket overturned beside her.
“Now, see what yees have done wid yer ugly black goat a-goin’ and
upsetting all me clane clothes, and the missis that particular as never
was. Bad luck to yez. Take him away,” she called, as she saw Billy
coming toward her again. Billy expected to run round the house and come
out on the street, but he was unable to do so, as the opposite side of
the yard was enclosed by a high fence which he could not jump; and here
the boys cornered him. He was going to butt them and get away, but the
St. Bernard barked to him to let himself be caught and then they could
have a race and see which could run the faster.
When Hero proposed this he, of course, thought he could beat Billy and
not half try, or he would not have suggested it. Billy Jr., on the
other hand, was sure he could beat Hero, so he let himself be caught
and led into the front yard where he was soon hitched to Ned’s cart,
while Hero was re-harnessed and hitched to another by Will, his master.
Soon the dog and goat were ready for the race and they were led into
the middle of the street, Ned and Will each in their respective carts,
and the other boys standing around ready to follow them when they
started. A boy stood at the head of each animal, letting go when the
word was given. Both the goat and the dog started at such a pace that
the boys lost their hats and came near being thrown backwards out of
their carts. Billy gave one leap which carried him ahead of the dog and
jerked the cart along on its back wheels. Away down the street they
sped, dodging wagons whose drivers stopped and stuck their heads out at
the sides to see the fun. Hero, who was fat and short winded, seeing
that he would have to do his best, ran with his tongue hanging out of
his mouth, panting for breath, while Billy Jr., who was slender and in
fine condition, closed his mouth and ran swiftly as an antelope, coming
out way ahead.
“Hurrah for you, Billy! I shall take you home with me and keep you, for
I consider you a good friend and you shall have the best supper you
have had in a long while.” Billy Jr. bleated his thanks and added that
it could not be given to him any too quickly, as he was both hungry and
thirsty. “Before I go I want to tell Hero that I would like to have
another race with him some other day when he is in better trim, for I
beat him too easily this time.”
Hero thought Billy was bragging about his victory, so he said the
reason he had not beaten was because his collar was so tight that he
could not get his breath. “Besides,” he added. “Will is much heavier
than Ned.”
“Oh, if you think that is the reason,” said Billy Jr., “come out
to-morrow and I will run you a race without any carts for a couple of
miles instead of one, and then we shall see who will win.”
This was all the conversation they had, for Ned led Billy off, fearing
the other boys might want to take him away from him. They said he had
no more right to the goat than they had, as he was evidently a stray
goat.
“That’s all right,” said Ned, “but none of you fellows have a wagon, so
I guess I will keep Billy until his owner turns up and claims him, and
I am ready to fight the first boy who meddles or tries to take him away
from me.” This settled the matter, for Ned could whip any of the boys
in that gang.
Billy Jr. stayed with Ned for about a week and every day they had
a race, or the boys played they were firemen and harnessed Billy to
their hook-and-ladder wagon and made him pull it to where they played
the fire was. After a day or two, Billy thought this was too much like
work; there was no fun in it for him, besides Hero would not speak to
him since he had beaten him in every race they had run, so he decided
to go away and look for another home.
It was three nights after this before he found a chance to slip out, as
he was shut in the stable every night in one of the box stalls. This
night the coachman forgot to latch the sliding door to his stall, so
when the man went to supper Billy pushed it open and slipped out into
the coach-house where, as luck would have it, he found the door open
into the alley, and out of it he went, not stopping or turning around
until he reached the stable where Hero lived. He would not have stopped
here, but Hero smelled goat as he passed and barked to Billy, “Is that
you, Billy Jr., out at this time of the night? You must be running
away.”
“You are right, I am running away and I’m never coming back, so
good-bye, Hero; when I see you again I expect you can beat me, for by
that time I shall be so old that any dog can do so.”
“You impudent goat, I shall not wish you good luck after that remark.”
Billy, chancing to look back down the alley, thought he saw a boy
running in his direction and, for fear it might be Ned, he hurried on
and turned out of the alley into the first street he came to. He had
gone but a few feet when he saw one of the boys that always played
with Ned coming in his direction, so he dodged into the next alley
and hid behind a garbage box until the boy had crossed out of sight,
then he came out and began to look for some friendly stable that he
could enter. It was beginning to storm and soon the rain came down in
torrents. Vivid lightning flashes were followed by loud rumblings of
thunder, and although Billy was a hardy goat, still he was deathly
afraid of thunder storms. He quickened his pace, passing stable after
stable, but all were closed to keep out the rain and not even a back
yard gate was open so he could run in and get under a wood-shed or
porch.
It grew darker and darker each moment; the lightning became more
frequent and more vivid, until poor Billy was all in a tremble.
Suddenly he spied an over-turned packing box lying close to a stable,
with just room enough for him to squeeze in between. “Well, this is
better than nothing,” he thought, so he squeezed himself in and was
about to lie down when he heard a low growl, and the next flash of
lightning revealed to him another occupant of the box--a little yellow
dog with a stubby tail and blazing eyes.
_Billy and Stubby._
“Well, what are you doing here?” said Billy.
“That is the question I was about to ask you,” replied the dog.
“I came in to get out of the rain because all the other places were
shut,” said Billy Jr.
“And I came here because I live here. This is the only home I know,”
answered the dog.
“Oh, if that is the case I will be going, as I do not wish to intrude.”
“You are perfectly welcome to stay and share the shelter of my home,
poor as it is,” said the dog, whose name was Stubby.
“You are exceedingly kind,” replied Billy. “I will gladly stay if only
for your company. I hate being out alone in a thunder storm.”
After this they became very well acquainted and prolonged their talk
far into the night, exchanging confidences and experiences.
As you all know Billy’s history, I will not repeat what he told the
dog, but will confine myself to the sad story of Stubby’s life.
[Illustration]
Stubby was undoubtedly of common parentage with not a drop of blue
blood in his veins, but he had plenty of good red blood, so he did not
care, only he often thought it would be very nice to be petted and fed
as thoroughbreds were. This wish, however, only came on days when he
had nothing to eat but a piece of mouldy bread from the garbage box
and nothing to drink but water out of a mud puddle. On other days he
would not exchange his lot for that of a King Charles lying on a satin
cushion on my lady’s lap, for what did the King Charles know of real
life or freedom, shut up in my lady’s boudoir, or taken for a walk at
the end of a silver chain?