Home
  By Author [ A  B  C  D  E  F  G  H  I  J  K  L  M  N  O  P  Q  R  S  T  U  V  W  X  Y  Z |  Other Symbols ]
  By Title [ A  B  C  D  E  F  G  H  I  J  K  L  M  N  O  P  Q  R  S  T  U  V  W  X  Y  Z |  Other Symbols ]
  By Language
all Classics books content using ISYS

Download this book: [ ASCII | HTML | PDF ]

Look for this book on Amazon


We have new books nearly every day.
If you would like a news letter once a week or once a month
fill out this form and we will give you a summary of the books for that week or month by email.

Title: Billy Whiskers' Travels
Author: Wheeler, F. G.
Language: English
As this book started as an ASCII text book there are no pictures available.
Copyright Status: Not copyrighted in the United States. If you live elsewhere check the laws of your country before downloading this ebook. See comments about copyright issues at end of book.

*** Start of this Doctrine Publishing Corporation Digital Book "Billy Whiskers' Travels" ***

This book is indexed by ISYS Web Indexing system to allow the reader find any word or number within the document.



[Illustration: Cover art]



                            BILLY WHISKERS’
                                TRAVELS


                                   BY

                             F. G. WHEELER



                            ILLUSTRATIONS BY
                           CARLL B. WILLIAMS



                    THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY
                    CHICAGO — AKRON, OHIO — NEW YORK

                            MADE IN U. S. A.



                             Copyright 1907
                                   by
                      The Saalfield Publishing Co.



                               *CONTENTS*


CHAPTER

      I. Billy Runs Away from Home
     II. He Loses his Mother
    III. Billy Sees his Mother Again
     IV. The Burgomaster is Bumped
      V. The Wooden Goat
     VI. A Celebration with Fireworks
    VII. Billy Finds his Mother
   VIII. An Encounter with the Tiger
     IX. Alone in an Ocean Storm
      X. The Goats Become a Fiery Dragon
     XI. Billy Joins a Happy Family
    XII. Billy Earns his Name
   XIII. A Happy Reunion



ILLUSTRATIONS

A Boat was lowered to rescue Billy. (missing from source book)

"Grab him, Caspar! Hold him!"

Billy saw him coming, and splashed around to the far side of the
fountain.

Billy felt his courage coming back.

"Well, old fellow, if broken bones are all, we can fix those."

"Shake hands," said Bobby.



                              *CHAPTER I*

                      *BILLY RUNS AWAY FROM HOME*


The other kids of the big flock on the pretty Swiss farm thought that
they were having a very nice time, but Billy did not like it very well.
He could run faster, jump higher and butt harder than any of the other
kids of his age, and he wanted more room.  Nearly every day he stopped
for a while beside the high fence and looked out through it at the green
slopes that ran up to the mountains.  The leaves looked so much fresher
and more tender there, and the sun so much brighter; besides, there were
rocky places—he could see them—which would make such fine playgrounds
and jumping places.  His wise old mother shook her head when he told her
about these things.

"You are too little yet, Billy," she always said.  "You are not yet
strong enough to be out in the world alone, even if you could get away
from here."

"Just wait till I get big," Billy would say, shaking his head, and then
he would scamper away to slyly nip the whiskers of some sober old goat,
or to romp or play fight with one of the other youngsters.

He was the most mischievous kid in the flock, and because of that his
mother named him Billy Mischief.  Farmer Klausen, who owned him, was
nearly as proud of him as Billy’s own mother could be.

"That’s the smartest and strongest young goat I’ve got," he used to brag
to his neighbor, fat Hans Zug, but for all that he kept a sharp eye on
Billy and would not allow him to break away from the flock and escape,
as he sometimes tried to do when they were being driven across the road
from one pasture to another.

One day, when Billy was almost a full-grown goat, his chance came at
last.  Farmer Klausen was standing in the middle of the road to see that
none got away, while his boys were driving the flock over to the lower
meadows.  Billy, who came up with the others, looking as innocent as a
goat can look, suddenly wheeled, and with a hard jump landed his broad
head and horns square in the stomach of his master.  Farmer Klausen gave
a yell, threw up both his hands and went heels over head into the dust,
while Billy, scampering over him, ran as hard as he could for the hills.

Coming down the road toward him was fat Hans Zug with a yoke across his
shoulders from which hung two great pails of goat’s milk which he was
taking down to the chocolate factory in the valley. Slow-witted Hans,
when he saw neighbor Klausen’s goat getting away, never thought of
setting down his pails, but spread out his arms and stood square in the
middle of the road, waving his hands and shouting: "Shoo!  Shoo!"  It
was a big mistake to think that he could scare this scamp goat by saying
"Shoo!" or by keeping his fat body in the road, for Billy came straight
on with his head down, and just as Hans thought that maybe he had better
step to one side, Billy gave a mighty leap and doubled Hans up just like
he had Farmer Klausen.

"A thousand lightnings yet again!" yelled Hans as he went over. The two
pails came down with a thud and a swish, and goat’s milk ran all over
the road and down the gulleys at the side. Hans Zug’s dog, which had
been sniffing at the roadside to see if he could find the trail of a
rabbit, now jumped out and came at Billy.  With one jerk of his strong
little neck the runaway goat picked the dog up on his horns and tossed
him clear over his head, where he landed plump on top of fat Hans and
knocked the breath out of him for a second time, just as Hans was
getting up.  Then Billy, feeling fine from this nice bit of exercise,
kicked up his heels and galloped on.

[Illustration: The two pails came down with a thud and a swish]

Just as he reached the woods he turned around and looked back. Farmer
Klausen was on his feet again but had no time to chase Billy, for he was
cracking his long whip and running from one side of the road to the
other to keep the rest of the goats from breaking away. Billy could hear
his loud voice from where he stood.  Hans had also rolled to his feet
and was holding his pudgy hands across his stomach, where he had been
hit, while he looked dumbly at the rich, yellow milk which was in
puddles everywhere.  Thick-headed Hans was just making up his mind that
the milk had really been spilled when another goat dashed by him, as
fast as its feet could patter.  As it drew nearer Billy saw with joy
that it was his mother, and he waited for her.  When she came close
Billy called to her:

"Hurry up!  We are never going back any more."

He kicked up his heels again in pure delight and was about to plunge
into the woods when his mother called on him to wait, and he did so,
though he did not like to do it, for the last of the flock was now
safely in the other pasture, the gate was being closed on them and Billy
knew that in a moment more Farmer Klausen and his boys and neighbor Hans
would be coming after them.

When Billy’s mother came up even with him she was panting so hard that
she could not speak, but she did not stop.  She kept right on running,
and he followed, curious to see what she meant to do.  As soon as they
were out of sight of the men, she turned from the road into the woods,
and by-and-by reached a little hollow which was all overgrown with
bushes.  Into this she raced, and Billy, now seeing what she was up to,
scampered lightly along behind, thinking it to be great fun.  The hollow
grew deeper and wider and shadier as they went on, and at last she
turned and scrambled up the dim, pebbly bank, where she plunged into a
dry little cave.  Here she lay down upon the ground to get her breath,
while Billy climbed in beside her and listened.  Soon he could hear the
heavy pat, pat, of the feet of Farmer Klausen and his boys on the road,
which was now high above them.

"They’ll never find us here," he said.

"Don’t ’baah’ so loud or they will hear us," panted his mother. "My!
I’m getting too fat to run any more, but if you were bound to go out in
the world, I was bound to come with you.  You’re not old enough even yet
to be trusted alone.  But you are right about one thing; unless they
catch us, we’re never going back."

Suddenly they both became very still.  The noise of the footsteps had
died away, but there was a slow rustling of the leaves in the hollow.
Something was coming toward them!

Nearer and nearer to where Billy and his mother lay hidden came the
noise, and soon they saw a dim, dark-gray shape among the underbrush
turn straight up toward them.  It was a large wild boar, one of the
fiercest animals that rove the forests of Europe.  It had a great,
shaggy head and cruel-looking curved tusks nearly a foot long.  The two
goats were in one of his hiding-places, and they knew that he would not
stop to say "Beg your pardon" when he came up; whatever he had to say
would be said with those sharp tusks. The space was too narrow for them
to run out past him.  Billy’s mother was scared, but not Billy.

"The only thing for us to do is to fight," said he, and, jumping to his
feet, he stood at the mouth of the little cave and gave a loud "baah!"
which was to warn the boar that it had better go about its business.

The boar stopped and looked up at Billy with little wicked eyes, then he
gave a loud snort, and, lowering his head, started to run straight up
the hill toward them.  Billy waited until the boar was close upon him,
then he gave a sudden jump and landed square upon the fierce animal’s
back.  The beast squealed and whirled around to rip Billy with his
tusks, but before he could do so Billy himself had whirled and had
hooked the big animal in the side.  There was another squeal and Billy
jumped out of the way.  The animal turned and dashed after him, but in
turning, his side was for an instant toward the mouth of the cave.  It
was just that instant for which Billy’s mother was watching, and with
all her might she jumped, butting him in the side with such force that
he went rolling over and over, squealing and grunting, into the hollow.
Billy was for jumping down after him but his mother knew better than
that. She knew that it would be only an accident if they could whip this
wicked animal, as the boar was so much the stronger, and that it was
better to run than fight.

"Come quickly!" she cried, springing up the hill.

Billy stood for a moment, hardly knowing whether to follow her or not,
but just then the boar scrambled to his feet and started after them,
snorting and with fire-red eyes.

"Billy!  Billy!" screamed his mother.  "Do as I tell you!"

Even then, Billy, who never had known what it was to be afraid, wanted
to stay and fight it out, but the sight of his mother scampering up the
hill decided him.  He was more afraid that he might lose her than he was
that he could not whip the boar, so he took after her.  The boar was
also a good runner, but he was not nearly so nimble a climber as the
goats and they soon out-distanced him, gaining the road, where they ran
on as fast as they could go.

The road soon came to a narrow place where the trees stopped and the
rocks rose straight up on either side.  They were half way through this
narrow stretch when Billy’s mother stopped.

"Goodness!" she exclaimed.  "I forgot about Farmer Klausen and his boys.
They will be coming back past this way pretty soon, and if they meet us
in here there will be trouble.  We can’t turn back on account of the
boar and they will surely catch us."

"Well, then," said Billy, once more showing his bravery, "if we can’t go
back on account of the boar, we might just as well go on ahead and meet
whatever comes, as to stand here wasting time. Maybe if we hurry we can
get out before they get to us."

"I’m proud of you, Billy," said his mother.

They started to run on again, but had no more than done so when, sure
enough, they saw a man coming toward them.  It was fat Hans Zug, and the
minute they saw who it was Billy laughed.

"Just watch me roll him over," he said, and started, as hard as he could
go, toward the big round farmer.

When Hans saw Billy coming toward him this time he did not wave his arms
and cry, "Shoo!"  In place of that he put his hands on his stomach and
turned around to run away from this little, white cannon-ball of a goat.
It was comical to see the fat fellow waddling along, holding his hands
in front of him, but he was making such slow progress that Billy felt
sorry for him and thought that he ought to help him a little.  It only
took a few jumps to catch up with Hans and then—biff!—he struck him from
behind so hard that Hans almost bounced when he hit the ground.

"A thousand lightnings, yet again!" yelled poor Hans.

He was just grunting his way to his hands and feet again when Billy’s
mother came along behind and—whack!—she gave him another tumble.  This
time he did not stop to look in either direction, but rolled over to the
side of the road and, getting to his feet, tried to claw his way up the
steep rocks, feeling almost sure that a whole regiment of goats of all
colors and sizes was after him.

"Ten thousand, a hundred thousand lightnings!" wailed Hans. Billy,
nearly laughing himself sick, waited for his mother, and when she came
up they both pranced on.  They had nearly reached the end of the narrow
pass when they saw coming toward them Farmer Klausen and his two boys.
The boys were running on ahead, quite a little distance in front of
their father, and Billy said quickly:

"You take Chris and I will take Jacob!"

So when they came up to the boys they just dived between their legs.
Billy upset Jacob easily enough, but Chris was lighter, and when the
fatter goat tried to escape between his legs he simply fell over on top
of her.  Without stopping to think what he was doing, he grabbed his
arms about her middle and hung tight, while she raced on for dear life.
By this time they were up to the farmer.  Billy easily dodged him, but
it was not so easy for his mother.  With Chris hanging on her back,
Farmer Klausen was able to grab her by the horns and hold her tight.

[Illustration: He grabbed his arms about her middle and hung tight.]

"Billy, Billy!  Help!" squealed his mother, and Billy whirled around to
come back at once.  He flew through the air as if he had been shot out
of a gun, and when he landed against the stooping Farmer Klausen, that
surprised man turned a somersault clear over Chris and the old goat,
then Billy’s mother easily shook Chris loose and away they went again.

As soon as they got through the narrow pass they turned once more into
the woods, which here sloped upward.  They had now passed the last of
the farms, and beyond them lay nothing but wooded hills and the
mountains.  Up and up they scrambled until at last, near nightfall, they
came to a little, grass-grown tableland, watered by a tiny stream that
tumbled down from the mountains, and here, after taking a long drink,
they rested.  After a while they made a good meal from the tender young
grass that grew at the side of the stream, and lay down again.  Soon
they were fast asleep, side by side.

It was nearly midnight and the moon was shining brightly overhead, when
they were both awakened by a terrific scream, and at the same moment a
soft, heavy body landed upon Billy’s back! Sharp claws struck his hide
and sharp teeth sank into the back of his neck!

[Illustration: "GRAB HIM, CASPAR!  HOLD HIM!"]



                              *CHAPTER II*

                         *HE LOSES HIS MOTHER*


It was a mountain lynx that had sprung upon Billy from the rocks above.
This lynx often came down to the highest of the goat farms, and had many
times annoyed fat Hans Zug and Farmer Klausen by stealing nice, fat
young kids for his supper.  This time, however, he had met his match,
for Billy’s mother no sooner saw the animal light upon her offspring
than she scrambled to her feet, and, with a short, quick jump, plunged
her sharp horns into his side.  The lynx screamed, and loosing his grip
on Billy, turned to fight with the mother goat. The moment his weight
was lifted, Billy, quick as a flash, ripped at the underside of the
beast with his sharp horns.  That made the animal snarl and loosen his
hold upon Billy’s mother, and between them they soon, in this way, gave
the lynx more than he had bargained for, so that presently he fled
howling up the steep rocks with the two goats chasing him as far as they
thought it safe.  Then they came back to their grassy spot, and bathed
their hurt places in the cool, running water.

"Now, Billy, you see what the world is like," said his mother. "Don’t
you wish that we were safely back in Farmer Klausen’s pasture?"

Billy dipped his scratched hind leg in the water and held it there while
he shook his head.

"No," he said, "this is better.  Only I’m glad that I didn’t get a
chance to run away until I was so big and strong."

His mother sighed, but looked at him proudly.

"You are a brave young goat," she said, "and it would be a shame to keep
you shut up in a pen."

In the morning they were a little stiff from their hurts, but Billy was
still eager to travel and see the world, so they went on into the
mountains.  About noon they followed a little ravine down to a plateau
where there was a whole herd of chamois.  These graceful animals are
about the size of a goat, but they are not so heavily built and are much
swifter.  At first the chamois did not want to let the goats join them,
but old Fleetfoot, the leader of the herd, said that they might stay if
they were not quarrelsome, but that they would have to look out for
themselves if hunters came that way.

This little plateau was a beautiful place, all carpeted with grass and
backed up by towering rocks.  At one end was a cliff looking out over a
valley, at the further end of which was a little village.  Billy, in his
eagerness to see the world, ran at once to the edge of the cliff.

"You reckless Billy!" cried his mother, running after him. "Don’t go so
close to that cliff or you will surely fall over and break your neck!"

"I’m not afraid," boasted Billy, and actually stood on his hind legs at
the very edge.

[Illustration: Stood on his hind legs at the very edge.]

Just then a few loose stones came rolling down the ravine, and like a
flash the entire herd of chamois were gone, leaping across a broad chasm
to a little ledge upon the other side, where there was a second path
that led among the rocks.

"Oh, what shall we do?" cried Billy’s mother.  "Here come two hunters
with guns, and we can’t jump where they did.  Why, it’s twelve feet
across there!"  She was frightened half to death but not for herself,
for she threw herself squarely between Billy and the hunters.

The hunters were ignorant fellows, and as soon as they caught sight of
the two goats they thought that these also were chamois, and one of
them, lifting his gun, shot at them, grazing the head of the mother
goat.  She toppled over against Billy, and that knocked him over the
cliff.  If it had not been for a small tree which grew out of the cliff
about half way down, Billy would have been dashed to death, but the tree
broke his fall and so he only lay in the valley stunned, while the
hunters picked up his mother and in great glee carried her away,
thinking they had shot a chamois.

When they got back to their guide he told them their mistake, and saw,
too, that the goat was only stunned; so they gave it to him and he sold
it next day to a man who was buying some extra goats for Hans Zug, to
stock a goat farm in America.

In the meantime poor Billy lay almost dead at the base of the cliff,
where a man found him about an hour later.

"You poor goat!" said the man, looking up at the cliff.  "Did you fall
down from that dizzy height?" and he put his hand on Billy’s sleek coat.
"At least you are not dead," he went on, feeling Billy’s heart beat.
"I’ll get you some water."

He took off his little round hat and ran back to where a tiny waterfall
came splashing and tumbling down the cliff, and, filling his hat full of
water, brought it and emptied it on the goat’s head. The cool shower
revived Billy so that he raised his head a little, and by the time the
man got back with the second hatful of water he was able to drink a
little.  This revived him still more, and presently he scrambled weakly
to his feet.  He stumbled and swayed and nearly fell down, but by
spreading his feet out he managed to stand up, and by-and-by he took a
few tottering steps.  With each step he grew stronger, and after another
good drink he was able to follow this kind man across the valley to the
little village.

Billy was glad enough to lie down and take a nap as soon as he got to
the man’s house, and he did not wake up until late at night. After his
good sleep he felt as strong as ever and thought he would get something
to eat, then see if he could not find his mother.  He found that he was
tied to a fence not far from a little whitewashed building, under which
ran a stream of water, but it did not take long for him to jerk himself
loose.  Going toward the little white building, he smelled something
that reminded him of milk.  He tried to get in at the door.  It was
fastened with a wooden button but Billy did not care for that.  He went
back a little piece to get a run, and bumped head first into the door,
which flew open at once.

"Milk!" said Billy, sniffing around in delight.  "Nice sweet milk!  I’m
sure that kind man would want me to have some."

There was a little board walk down the center of this spring-house, and
on each side of this were a number of crocks setting in the water, each
one of them covered with a plate and containing milk. A stone was laid
on top of each plate to weight the crock down in the water, and in
trying to nose off one of these plates Billy reached over too far and
fell.  He landed right among the crocks, which, of course, bumped into
each other, breaking and overturning and spilling the milk, and making a
great clatter.  At the noise, two dogs came running down and dashed into
the spring-house, where, seeing something floundering around in the
water, they promptly dived in after it and Billy found himself very
busy.  The noise the dogs made aroused the man and his wife, and they,
too, came down; the noise they made aroused the neighbors on both sides,
who came running over to see what was the matter; a young man, who was
coming home late from calling on a girl, passed by that way and saw the
people from both sides running to this house and thought there must be a
fire, so he ran to the town hall, where the rope of the fire bell hung
outside, and began ringing it as loud as he could, which aroused
everybody in the village.  Hearing the commotion many got out of bed and
came out on the streets to learn where the fire was.

All this time Billy, the cause of the hubbub, was battling with the dogs
among the milk crocks in the spring-house, and using his horns right and
left as hard as he could, until finally he was able to jump out between
them and on to the board walk.  Out of the door he dashed, upsetting the
man and his wife, butting into the neighbors and, all dripping with
white milk, ran like the ghost of a goat through the village street,
making women and girls scream, scattering people right and left and
being chased by yelping dogs and halloing men and boys.

Billy easily outran his pursuers, but he never stopped until he was far
out in the country, where he crept under a stone bridge to rest from his
long run.  As soon as he had got his breath, he broke into a near-by
field and made a splendid supper from some nice young lettuce heads,
then he trotted contentedly back under his bridge and went to sleep.  In
the morning, bright and early, he went back into the market garden and
made a fine breakfast from beet and carrot tops, all sparkling with cool
dew.  He enjoyed this garden very much and would like to have stayed
there until all the nice vegetables were eaten up, but he remembered how
Mr. Klausen had whipped him for breaking into his turnip patch one time,
and made up his mind that it would not be safe to linger in this part of
the country much longer, so he jumped the fence and started again on his
travels.

A little dog was trotting down the road, and as soon as he saw Billy he
began to bark.  To ordinary persons the barking would have sounded
merely like a lot of bow-wows, but in the animal language it said:

"Where did _you_ come from, you big white tramp?  You go right on away
from here or I’ll call the police."

Billy wasn’t going to take that sort of talk from any dog, big or
little, so he gave one "baah!" lowered his head, and started for that
dog.  The dog suddenly found out that he had very important business
back home, and he started up the road as hard as he could go, with Billy
close after him.  There never was a dog that ran so hard and so
earnestly as that one, and all the breath that he could spare from
running he used in howling, to let the folks at home know that he was
coming.  All at once he was very anxious indeed to get home in time for
breakfast, and Billy was just as anxious to toss him over a fence before
he got there.  Up one hill and down another went the two, lickaty-split,
first a little white streak bent low in the dust, and then a bigger
white streak coming along close behind in a whirling cloud.  Pretty soon
they came in sight of a big square farmhouse with a wide-spreading roof,
and then the little dog, his tongue hanging away out, gave an extra wild
howl and ran faster than ever.  When they got to the house the dog
turned in at the open gate with Billy right at his heels.  He tore up
the path and around to the kitchen door, up the steps and into the
kitchen, pell-mell, where he dived under the table at which the Oberbipp
family was having breakfast.

Billy did not know where he was going and did not very much care.  All
he knew was that he was chasing that dog and meant to catch him, so
without looking, he followed, too, up the steps and under the table.
Such shrieking and howling never was heard. Herr Oberbipp jumped up so
quickly that he upset his chair, and in trying to catch the chair he
upset himself, turning a back somersault on the floor and landing in a
tub of soapsuds in which the clothes were soaking to be washed.  Frau
Oberbipp grabbed a loaf of bread in one hand and a sausage in the other,
and never left off screaming until she was out of breath.  Greta
Oberbipp sprang up on her chair and shook her skirts as hard as she
could, while she helped her mamma scream.  Baby Oberbipp jumped up on
the table at first, but the snarls and howls and "baahs" from underneath
excited his curiosity so much that he soon jumped down to the floor and
looked under the table.  Then he began to dance on one foot and yell.

"Hang on, you Flohbeis!" he cried, for the dog, now full of courage
because he was under his own table, had grabbed Billy by the nose.
Shake his head as hard as he might, Billy could not loosen Flohbeis, or
Fleabite, as his name would be called in English, so he reared straight
up, and the table began to dance across the room toward the father of
the family, while Frau Oberbipp and Greta screamed louder than ever.
Herr Oberbipp was just getting out of the tub when the table got over to
him, and he made a grab at it when Billy gave an extra strong jump.  The
table overturned, and all the breakfast things, with a mighty crash of
dishes, slid on Herr Oberbipp and knocked him back in the suds again.
By this time Billy had unfastened the grip of Fleabite from his nose and
had butted that yelping dog into the bottom of the tall clock case; then
Billy started for the door, but Herr Oberbipp was already yelling to
Caspar not to let him out.

"Grab him, Caspar!  Hold him!" yelled the man.  "He is a nice young
goat.  He spoils our breakfast and we make a dinner of him."

When Billy heard that, he was more anxious than ever to get out, but
Caspar had slammed the door shut, and Billy, seeing it closed, tried to
butt it down.  The door was too strong and Billy grew desperate.  Caspar
ran after him and Billy suddenly turned, running under Caspar’s legs and
toppling him over; then he made for the window, meaning to go through
it, sash and all.  But Caspar had already jumped up, and, as the goat
went through a pane of glass, Caspar grabbed him by the hind legs and
held him, while Billy, fairly caught and pinched in between the window
bars, could only struggle with his fore feet.

Herr Oberbipp in the meantime got himself out of the tub of water, took
the butter out of his hair and the mush out of his shirt front,
untangled himself from the table-cloth, wiped the coffee from his face
and ran outside, where he grabbed Billy by the horns and pulled him on
through the window.  Herr Oberbipp was a big, strong man, and, holding
Billy by the horns, he carried him at arm’s length down to the barn,
letting him kick and struggle all he wanted to, and there he tied the
goat in a stall with a good stout wire, after which he went back to the
house and washed himself. Frau Oberbipp and Greta were still screaming.

The glass had given Billy two or three little cuts, but they did not
amount to much and he had already licked them clean when Caspar came out
with some water and a plate of cold potatoes which Billy was very glad
to get.  While the goat was eating, Caspar examined the cut places, and,
running into the house, brought out something which he put on the cuts.
It smarted at first, and Billy tried to butt Caspar for putting it on,
but by-and-by he could feel that the smarts were being soothed and that
the cuts were healing by reason of the stuff that the boy had put on, so
he began to see that Caspar was not such a bad sort after all.  He had
something to worry about, however, when, after breakfast, the farmer
came out and looked the goat over.

"Roast kid is a very fine dish," said the farmer.  "I don’t know to whom
this goat belongs, but whosever it is he owes us a meal, so we’re going
to roast him."



                             *CHAPTER III*

                     *BILLY SEES HIS MOTHER AGAIN*


Nobody, not even a goat, likes to think of being roasted for dinner, and
so, the minute he heard that, Billy gave an extra hard tug at the wire,
but it only cut his neck and choked him and would not break.  So he gave
it up and "baahed" pitifully while he looked to Caspar for help.

"Indeed you will not roast this goat," said sturdy Caspar. "He’s my
goat; he chased my dog and I’m going to keep him."

Caspar looked up at his father and his father looked down at Caspar.
Billy looked up at both of them.  Little Caspar and big Caspar stood
exactly alike, both of them with their fists doubled on their hips and
both of them with square jaws and firm lips, and it was big Caspar, who,
proud to see his boy looking so much like himself, finally gave in.  He
laughed and said:

"All right, he’s your goat, but you have got to take the whippings for
all the damage he does."

"Very well," said Caspar, "I’ll do it," and his father walked away.

Billy was so pleased with this that he made up his mind to be very nice
to the boy, and when Caspar stooped down to take the empty plate away,
Billy ran his nose affectionately into young Oberbipp’s hand.  Right
after breakfast Caspar took off the wire from Billy’s neck, holding a
switch in his hand to whip the goat over the nose in case he tried to
butt or run away.  But Billy did neither of these things.  He followed
his new master out in the yard, and there he was backed up between the
shafts of a little wagon that had been made for Fleabite.  The dog
capered and barked and made a run or two at Billy, but the goat only
shook his horns at him and Fleabite ran under the barn.  The dog was
jealous.  He did not like the wagon, but, rather than have the goat
hitched up to it, he wanted to haul it himself.

[Illustration: He was backed up between the shafts of a little wagon.]

"It’s no use, Fleabite," said Caspar, "you might as well make friends
with him.  Anyhow, you’re not big enough to haul this wagon, and you
always lay down in the harness.  You can come along behind, though.  I’m
going to drive in to Kasedorf and show my goat to cousin Fritz."

At first Billy was afraid that Kasedorf might be the village where he
had torn up the spring-house, and he had very good reasons for not
wanting to go back there, but when they clattered out of the gate Caspar
turned his head in the other direction, and he was very glad of this.
He was so pleased with his new master that he went along at a splendid
gait, pulling Caspar nicely up one hill after another.  Fleabite ran
along, sometimes behind, sometimes ahead, and sometimes slipping up at
the side and snapping at Billy’s nose; but Billy had only to shake his
horns in the dog’s direction and Fleabite would run about a mile before
he would take it into his foolish head to try that trick again.

Pretty soon they went whizzing down a little hill and into a far
prettier village than the first one.  Just as they turned into the main
street, along came a flock of goats driven by two men and half a dozen
boys, and who should Billy see in that flock but his own mother!  Of
course he called loudly to her.  She heard him, and though she was in
the center of the flock, quickly made her way to the edge, where she
kissed him.  She had no time to tell him where she was going, nor he to
tell her all that had happened to him since he had fallen from the
cliff, but it was a joy for each of them to know that the other was
still alive and in good health.

Before they could speak further, a sharp whip cracked over them and the
lash landed on Billy’s nose.  He jumped back with the pain and again the
whip cracked.  This time Billy’s mother got the sting of it.  Billy
looked around, and there, handling the whip, was fat Hans Zug!  Billy,
mad as a hornet, whirled and was going to make for Hans, when Caspar,
who had jumped out of the cart, hit him a sharp crack across the nose
with his fist, and it pained Billy so much that the tears came to his
eyes and he could not see. Before he could make another start for Hans
or run after his mother, Hans had passed by, and Caspar’s uncle
Heinrich, who had come up in the meantime, had Billy by the horns and
was holding him. Billy struggled as hard as he could to get away.  He
wanted to butt Hans Zug for whipping his mother and himself, and he
wanted to go with his mother if he could, so he was a very sulky goat.

Even when Caspar took him to his uncle’s house and gave him some nice,
tender vegetables and potato parings to eat, he was very sulky as he
stood there munching his dinner, so that when Fleabite came up and stole
some of his potato parings he butted that poor dog plump into a barbed
wire fence.  You must not suppose that Fleabite liked potato parings.
He would not eat them at home, but he was such a jealous dog that he
wanted to eat up Billy’s dinner, no matter what it was.  After dinner
Caspar rubbed Billy’s sleek coat until it was all clean and glossy, then
he let Fritz have a ride in the cart.  Fritz drove proudly up into the
main street, and there, standing at the corner, talking to another man,
was Hans Zug!

"Yes," Hans was saying in English to the other man, "I go me also by
America next week.  I got such a brother there what is making more as a
tousand dollars a year mit such a goat farm, and I take me my goats
over.  I got a contract mit another Switzer what owns the land.  Yess!"

Billy did not wait for any more, but raised up on his hind feet. Fritz
tried his best to hold him back, but he might as well have tried to hold
the wind, and Billy, feeling the tug at his reins, gave a jump that
toppled Fritz over backwards out of the cart.  He gave one more jump and
landed with all his might and main against poor, round Hans, and as his
enemy went down Billy jumped on him and ran up one side of him and down
the other side.  Poor Hans got up and clasped both pudgy hands on his
stomach.

"A thousand lightnings yet again!" he exclaimed as he looked sorrowfully
at his print in the dust.  Hans had been butted that time for Billy’s
mother; now Billy whirled and came back to give Hans one for himself,
but this time Hans was too quick for him and dodged behind a tree,
letting Billy butt the tree so hard that it stunned him, and before the
fiery tempered goat could make up his mind what had happened to him,
Caspar came running up and grabbed him by the horns.  Billy could have
jerked away from Caspar, but he felt that the boy was now the best
friend he had, and he did not want to hurt him, so he let Caspar pat him
on his sleek sides and climb into the cart behind him.

"You’ll have to walk, Fritz," said Caspar loftily.  "It takes a good
strong boy to manage this goat."

Billy laughed at this, but when Caspar "clicked" for him to "get up," he
trotted right along without making any fuss about it.

At the next corner a carriage turned into the main street, and in it, on
the seat back of the driver, were a man and a boy, the latter being of
about Caspar’s age.

"Oh, papa, do look at that beautiful goat!" exclaimed the boy. "Please
buy him for me, won’t you?"

Mr. Brown shook his head.

"I don’t mind you having a goat, Frank," he said, "but I can get you
just as good a one when we get back to America.  There is no use in
carrying a goat clear across the ocean with us when there are so many at
home."

"All right," said the boy, obediently, and the carriage drove on.

Poor Billy!  His heart sank.  He had just heard from Hans that his
mother was going to America, and he did hope that this fine looking man
would buy him and take him there, too, so that he would have more chance
to find his mother; but now his chance was gone.  Was it though?  He was
not a goat to give up easily, and he made up his mind to try once more.

Billy stopped dead still to think it over.  He simply could not bear to
let this man get away without another trial, so suddenly he whirled,
nearly upsetting the cart, and ran after the strangers.  He soon caught
up with them, and then, slowing down, he trotted along at the side of
the carriage, showing off his beauty as much as he could.

"Oh, papa, there is that beautiful goat again," said the boy. "How I do
wish I could have him!  Of course you can buy me one in America, as you
have promised to do, but they say that there are no goats in the world
so fine as the Swiss goats, and I am sure that I never saw any so pretty
as this one."

The man smiled indulgently at his son and stopped the carriage.

"How much will you take for your goat, my boy?" he asked.

"I don’t want to sell him," replied Caspar.  "He’s my goat and I like
him."

Just then Billy tossed his fine head and pranced, daintily lifting his
feet.

"See how graceful he is!" exclaimed the boy.  "Do buy him, papa!"

"I’ll give you ten dollars for him," said the gentleman, pulling out his
pocketbook.

Caspar caught his breath.  He knew the value of an American dollar, and
ten dollars was equal to more than forty German marks. It was a great
lot of money, too much for a poor boy to refuse. Caspar drew a long sigh
and began to slowly unhitch his goat.  The driver of the carriage threw
him a strap, and with this he tied Billy to the rear axle of the
carriage.

Fleabite, as soon as Billy was safely tied, began to caper with joy and
to snap at Billy’s heels, but Caspar, when the man had paid him his
money, grabbed Fleabite and hitched him to the cart.  Then he ran up and
patted Billy affectionately on the flanks, and the carriage drove away,
with Billy following gladly behind in the dust.

Down the village street the carriage rolled until it came to a quaint
little Swiss inn, where it turned through a wide gateway that led into a
brick-paved courtyard.  Here Billy was unfastened from the carriage by a
servant and led back of the inn, where he was tied by the strap to a
post, while Mr. Brown and his son Frank went to their mid-day meal.
Billy didn’t like to be tied; he was not used to it, so he began to chew
his strap in two.  It was very tough leather but Billy’s teeth were very
sharp and strong, and he had it about half gnawed through when a little,
lean waiter came from the kitchen across the courtyard, carrying, high
up over his head, a great big tray piled with dishes of food.  The
waiter saw Billy gnawing his strap in two and thought that he ought to
keep him from it.

"Stop that, you hammer-headed goat!" he cried and gave Billy a kick.

Billy was not going to stand anything like that, so he gave a mighty
jump and the strap parted where he had been gnawing upon it.  As soon as
the lean waiter saw this he started to run, but, with the heavy tray he
was carrying, he could not run very fast and he looked most comical with
his apron flopping out behind him and his legs going almost straight up
and down in his effort to run and to balance the tray at the same time.

When Billy pulled the strap in two, the jerk of it sent him head over
heels and by the time he had scrambled to his feet again the waiter was
half way to the back door of the inn.  The fat cook, who was looking out
of the door of the summer kitchen, saw Billy start for the waiter and he
started after the goat, but he got there too late, for the goat caught
up with the lean waiter in about three leaps and with a loud "baah!"
sent him sprawling.  The big tray of dishes came down with a crash and a
clatter, and meats, vegetables, gravies and relishes, together with
broken dishes, were scattered all over the fellow who had kicked Billy,
all over the clean scrubbed bricks, spattered up against the walls and
into the long rows of geraniums that grew in a wooden trough at the end
of the house.

Billy turned and was about to trot back when he saw the fat cook coming
just behind him, so he ran right on across the little waiter, through
the mess and to the back door.  Crossing the winter kitchen he found a
big, rosy-cheeked girl standing in his way and made a dive at her.  With
a scream she jumped and Billy’s horns caught in her bright, red-checked
apron, which jerked loose.  With this streaming along his back, he
dashed on into a long hall, and there at the far door whom did he see,
just starting into the dining-room, but his old enemy, fat Hans Zug, who
had that morning whipped Billy’s mother and himself.  Billy stood up on
his hind feet for a second and shook his head at Hans, and then he
started for him.  Hans saw him coming.

"Thunder weather!" he cried, and ran on through the door.

He tried to shut the door behind him but he was not in time, for Billy
butted against it and threw it open right out of Hans Zug’s hand.  The
long room into which Hans had hurried was the dining-room, and here were
seated, around a long table, a number of ladies and gentlemen, among
them Mr. and Mrs. Brown and their son Frank, waiting for the dinner that
now lay scattered around the courtyard.  Everybody looked up, startled,
when Hans came bursting through the door closely followed by an angry
goat with a red-checked apron streaming from his horns.  A great many of
the men jumped up and scraped their chairs back, adding to the
confusion, and a great many of the ladies screamed.  Hans, not knowing
what to do, started to run around and around the table with Billy close
behind him and the fat cook close after Billy.  Billy would easily have
caught Hans except that every once in a while Hans would upset a chair
in the goat’s road and Billy would have to jump over the chair.
Sometimes the fat cook would almost catch Billy and finally did succeed
in catching the apron.  When it came loose in his hand he did not know
what to do with it.  He started to throw it down, he started to stuff it
in his pocket, he started to mop his perspiring face with it, and at
last he threw it around his neck and tied the strings in front to get
rid of it, then once more he chased after Billy, with the red apron
flopping out behind him.

At last he grabbed Billy by the tail just as he was going to jump over
the chair, and held on tightly, but Billy’s jump had been too strong for
him and the fat cook stumbled head over heels.  Jumping up the angry
cook ran until he again caught the goat, and this time he fell on top of
Billy and then both rolled over and over on the floor.

"Ugh!" grunted the fat cook.  "Beast animal!"

Billy jumped up in such a hurry that he simply danced on the fat cook’s
stomach.  While Billy was doing this, Hans had stopped for a minute to
mop his face and to look wildly around for some way to escape.  Around
and around, around and around the two raced, poor Hans puffing and
blowing and his face getting redder and redder every minute with the
chase.

Some men had been calsomining the wooden ceiling of the dining-room, but
they had quit during meal time.  At one end of the room stood two
step-ladders with some long boards resting across them, and on these
were a number of buckets of green calsomine. Hans had tried to get out
through the doorway, but there were too many people crowded into it and
he knew that if he got into that crowd Billy would surely catch him, but
now he saw the step-ladders, and running to one of them started to climb
up.  Billy, however, was through with the cook and had taken after Hans
again.

Hans, being so fat, was very slow in climbing a step-ladder, and he had
only puffed his way up one step when Billy tried to help him up a little
farther with his head and horns after a big running jump. Smash! went
the step-ladders.  Crash! went the long boards.  The buckets of green
calsomine flew everywhere.  One of them tumbled down right over Hans’
head like a hat that was a couple of sizes too large for him, and the
green paint ran all over his face, down his neck and over his clothes.
Another bucket of it landed in the middle of the dining-room table,
splashing and splattering all over the clean cloth and over everybody
who sat around it.

Billy, having done more damage than a dozen ordinary goats could hope to
do in a lifetime, now made for the door, and the people there scattered
very quickly to let him through.  Billy himself had received his share
of the green calsomine and he was a queer looking sight as he darted out
and went flying up the street, with an enemy after him in the shape of
the fat cook, who had grabbed down a shot-gun from where it hung over
the mantlepiece in the dining-room and had started out after him.

The cook was mad clear through and he was going to kill that goat.
Frank, however, was close after the cook, and being able to run much the
faster, soon caught up with him.

"Wait!" he panted, tugging at the tail of the cook’s white jacket.
"Wait!  That’s my goat!" he cried.  "Don’t you kill my goat!"

"Away with you, nuisance!" cried the cook, jerking loose from Frank and
at the same time pushing him.

Frank fell over backwards, although it did not hurt him, and while he
was getting to his feet the cook took careful aim at the flying goat and
pulled the trigger.



                              *CHAPTER IV*

                      *THE BURGOMASTER IS BUMPED*


Billy Mischief was lucky.  In his excitement the fat cook had forgotten
that the shotgun had not been loaded for five years.  The cook was so
angry that he nearly burst a blood vessel.  Grabbing the gun by the
barrel, he jammed it, as he thought, butt end on the ground.  Instead of
that, however, he struck his broad foot a mighty thump.

"Thunder and hailstones!" he screamed, and jerking his foot up he began
to hop along on the other leg, making the most ridiculous faces while he
did it.  In spite of the pain that the gun must have caused the cook,
Frank could not help but laugh, and he forgot all his anger at the push
the man had given him.

"What’s the matter?" asked Frank when he could catch his breath.  "Does
it hurt?"

The cook did not understand English but he felt that Frank was poking
fun at him, and stopped his dance long enough to shake his fist at
Frank.  He wanted to say something very sharp and cutting to the boy,
but he could not think of anything strong enough, so, after drawing his
breath hard two or three times and screwing up his mouth with pain, he
turned the gun muzzle end down, and, using it for a crutch, swung along
back to the inn, muttering and mumbling all the way.

Frank laughed so hard that he had to sit down at the edge of the
sidewalk a moment to hold his sides, but all at once he thought of his
goat.  There it was, going up the street, and although little more than
a green and white speck now, Frank bravely took after it. He probably
never would have caught it except that Billy, also being tired and
feeling himself free from pursuit, stopped before a big house set well
back from the street, on a wide, fine lawn.

Now the house in front of which he had stopped was the residence of the
burgomaster, or mayor of the village, a very pompous fellow who thought
a great deal of his own importance, and in the center of his lawn he had
a fountain of which he was very proud. The water in the base of the
fountain was clear as crystal and it looked very cool and inviting to
Billy after his dusty run, and, besides, the paint on his back felt
sticky.  Without wasting any time about it, Billy trotted up across the
nice lawn and jumped into the fountain for a bath, just as the
burgomaster came out of his front door with his stout cane in his hand.

"Pig of a goat!" cried the burgomaster, hurrying down the walk and
across the lawn.  "Out with him!  Police!" and he drew a little silver
whistle from his pocket, whistling loudly upon it; then, shaking his
cane in the air, he ran up to the edge of the fountain, the waters of
which were turned a bright green by this time.  Billy saw him coming,
but, instead of jumping out of the fountain and running away, he merely
splashed around to the far side of the basin.  The burgomaster ran to
that side of the fountain but Billy simply splashed around out of his
reach.  Then the burgomaster, up on the stone coping of the fountain,
began to run around and around after Billy, the goat keeping just out of
his reach and the burgomaster trying to strike him with the cane.  At
last, after an especially hard blow, the burgomaster went plunging
headlong into the green water of the basin, where he floundered about
like a cow in a bath tub.

Billy jumped on him and used him as a stepping stone out of the basin,
running back to the street just as Frank and a stupid looking policeman
came running up from different directions.  At first the policeman was
going to arrest the goat, but Frank pointed to where the burgomaster was
still flopping around in the fountain and the policeman ran to help the
burgomaster, who was now dyed a beautiful green, face and hands and
clothes, while Frank took Billy by one horn and raced back down the
street with him.  This was what Billy liked.  He was a young goat, and,
like other young animals, was playful, and he thought that Frank’s
racing with him was good fun, so he went along willingly enough, and
when Frank let go of his horn, he galloped along beside his young master
very contentedly.

Frank ran back to the hotel with his goat as fast as he could go, but
when they drew near he saw a large crowd out in front and their carriage
waiting for them, with the horses hitched and the driver sitting up in
front.  Mrs. Brown was in the carriage and Frank’s father was in front
of the crowd handing out money, first to one and then to the other.
When Frank and his goat came up his father looked at the goat very
sternly.

"See all the trouble that animal has made us!" he said.  "I have had to
pay out in damages nearly every cent of cash I have with me, and as
there is no bank in this little village, my letter of credit is worth
nothing here.  We must hurry on to Bern as fast as we can, and I want
you to leave that goat behind you.  We can’t bother with him any more.
Come on and get in."

"But, father," explained Frank, "the goat did not know what he was
doing."

"It does not matter," replied Mr. Brown.  "There’s no telling what kind
of mischief he will get into next."

"But, father," again urged Frank, "if you’ve had to pay out all that
money for him you might as well have the goat.  There is no use of
losing the goat and money, too."

"Get in the carriage," said Mr. Brown, sharply.

"But, father—" again Frank began to argue.  This time, however, Mr.
Brown cut him short, and, picking him up, put him into the carriage with
a not very gentle hand.  Then, climbing in himself, he ordered the
driver to start.

Billy had taken his place back where he had been tied the other time,
and he was surprised to find the carriage moving on without him.  The
cook, seeing that the goat was to be left behind, started forward to
give the animal a kick, but Billy was too quick for him. Wheeling, he
suddenly ran between the cook’s legs and doubled him over.  Just behind
the cook stood Hans Zug, and as Billy wriggled out sideways from beneath
the cook’s feet, the cook tumbled back against Hans and both of them
went to the ground.  Billy stood and shook his head for a moment as if
to double them up again before they got to their feet, but the sight of
the retreating carriage made him change his mind and he ran after it
with Hans and the fat cook chasing him.

The carriage was not going very rapidly, and Billy, after he had caught
up with it, merely trotted along back of the rear axle, so that when the
carriage passed the burgomaster’s house, Hans and the cook were not very
far behind.  They were bound to catch that goat and punish him for what
he had done, although it is very likely that before they got through
they would have sold him and kept the money.  The burgomaster was still
out in front, fretting and fuming, but the stupid policeman was gone.
He had been sent down to the hotel to arrest the foreign boy and his
goat, and he was too stupid to notice them, even with Hans and the cook
paddling along behind. He had nothing in his mind but the hotel to which
he had been sent. The burgomaster, however, recognized the green-tinted
goat as soon as he saw him.

"There he goes!" cried the burgomaster.  "Brute beast of a goat!  Halt,
I say!"  Blowing his little whistle, he, too, so filled with anger that
it made him puff up like a toad, started out after the carriage; and
there they ran, the three clumsy-looking fat men, one after the other,
puffing and panting and blowing, just out of reach of the goat.

[Illustration: There they ran, the three clumsy-looking fat men.]

Mr. and Mrs. Brown and Frank were too intent on getting up the steep
street and out of the town to notice what was going on behind them, but
just now they came to the top of the hill and began to go down the
gentle slope on the other side.  The driver whipped up his horses, the
goat also increased his pace, and away they went. The cook, seeing that
the goat was about to escape, made a lunge, thinking that he could grab
it by the tail or the hind legs, but as he did so his feet caught on a
stone and over he went.  Hans Zug, being right behind him, tumbled over
him, and the fat burgomaster tumbled over both of them.  The burgomaster
was so angry that he felt he surely must throw somebody into jail, so,
as soon as he could get his breath, he grabbed Hans Zug by the collar
with one hand and the cook with the other.

[Illustration: BILLY SAW HIM COMING, SPLASHED AROUND TO THE FAR SIDE OF
THE FOUNTAIN.]

"I arrest you in the name of Canton Bern for obstructing a high
officer!" he exclaimed, and the stupid policeman running up just then,
he turned poor Hans and the cook over to him and sent them to jail.

All the hot, dusty afternoon Billy followed Mr. Brown’s carriage, now up
hill and now down hill, without ever showing himself to them.  Whenever
he thought of straying off into the pleasant grassy valleys and striking
out into the world for himself again, he remembered that the Browns were
going to America and that if he went with them he might see his mother
again.  He did not know, of course, that America was such a large place,
so, while now and then he stopped at the roadside to nibble a mouthful
of grass or stopped when they crossed a stream to get a drink of water,
he never lost sight of them, but when he found himself getting too far
behind, scampered on and overtook them.

[Illustration: Billy followed Mr. Brown’s carriage.]

It was not until nightfall that the carriage rolled into the city of
Bern.  Billy had never seen so large a city before and the rumbling of
many wagons and carriages, the passing of the many people on the streets
and the hundreds of lights confused and surprised him. He was not half
so surprised at this, however, as Mr. and Mrs. Brown and Frank were to
find Billy behind their carriage when they stopped in front of a large,
handsome hotel.  Frank was the first one to discover him.

"Oh, see, papa!" he cried.  "My Billy followed us all the way from the
village; so now I do get to keep him, don’t I?"

Mr. Brown smiled and gave up.

"I’m afraid he’s an expensive goat, Frank," was all he said, and then he
gave Billy in charge of one of the porters who had crowded around the
carriage.

"Wash the paint from this goat and lock him up some place for the night
where he can’t do any damage," he directed the porter.

Billy was glad enough to have the dry green paint scrubbed off his back
and he willingly went with the porter to a clean little basement room,
where he got a good scrubbing.  Then the porter went into another room
and brought him out some nice carrots with green tops still on them,
and, leaving a basin of water for him to drink, went out and closed the
door carefully after him.  Billy liked the carrots, but he did not like
to be shut up in a dark room, so he soon went all around the walls
trying to find a way out.  There was no way except the two doors and a
high, dim window.  He tried to butt the doors down but they were of
solid, heavy oak, and he could not do it.  In a few minutes, however the
porter came back for his keys, and the moment he opened the door Billy
seized his chance. Gathering his legs under him for a big jump, he
rushed between the man’s legs and dashed up the stairs, out through the
narrow courtyard and on the street.  The porter, as soon as he could get
to his feet, rushed out after him, but Billy was nowhere in sight and
the poor porter did not know what to do.  He did not dare to go back and
tell Mr. Brown that the goat had gotten loose, because he would be
charged with carelessness.

In the meantime Billy had galloped up the street and turned first one
corner and then another, until he came to a street much wider and
brighter and busier than any of the others.  By this time first one boy
and then another and then another had followed him, until now there was
a big crowd of them running after him and shouting at the top of their
lungs.

A large dog that a lady was leading along the sidewalk by a strap broke
away from his mistress as soon as he saw Billy and ran out to bark at
him.  Billy lowered his head and shook it at the dog. The dog began to
circle round him closer and closer, barking loudly all the while.  A man
driving a big dray stopped to watch them; the boys crowded round in a
big ring; men came from the sidewalks and joined the crowd; a carriage
had to stop just behind the dray, then another; a wagon coming from the
other direction could not get through; and presently the street was
filled from sidewalk to sidewalk, the whole length of the block, with a
big crowd of people and a jam of vehicles of all kinds.  Policemen tried
to push their way through the crowd and tried to get the blockade
loosened and moving on, but their time was wasted.

In the meantime Billy was turning around and around where he stood,
always facing the dog which now began to dart in with a snap of his
teeth and dart away again, trying to get a hold on Billy. The goat was
too quick, however, and dodged every time the dog made a snap.  He was
waiting for his chance and at last it came. The dog, in jumping away
from one of his snaps, turned his body for a moment sideways to the goat
and in that moment Billy gathered himself up and made a spring, hitting
the dog square in the side and sending him over against the crowd.
Billy followed like a little white streak of lightning and, before the
dog could get on his feet, had butted him again.

Such a howling and yelling as there was among that side of the crowd;
Billy and the dog were now among them and they could not scatter much
for there were too many people packed solidly behind them.  The dog
yelped as Billy butted him and began to run around and around the circle
with Billy right after him.  After they had made two or three circles,
Billy overtook the dog and, giving him one more good one, jumped between
the legs of the crowd and wriggled his way through among carriages and
wagons, under horses and between wheels, until at last he was free from
the crowd.

Nobody at the outer edge noticed him getting away because they did not
know what the excitement was and they were all pressing forward to see.
Just as he left, somebody who could not understand what else could make
such excitement cried, "Fire!"

The cry was taken up, and that made still more confusion. People began
pouring into that block from every direction.  More wagons and carriages
came.  Some one had turned in a fire alarm, and presently here came the
fire engines from three or four directions at once, clanging and
clattering their way to this crowded block. The city of Bern had never
known so much excitement.



                              *CHAPTER V*

                           *THE WOODEN GOAT*


Billy trotted contentedly on, liking all the noise and hubbub very much
but not knowing that he was the cause of it all.  Blocks away he could
hear their shouting, but he did not care to go back there, for all of
that. He was finding a great many things to interest him in the shop
windows, which were all brilliantly lighted.  Before one of these low
windows he suddenly stopped.  There, just inside the show window, was a
big, brown goat.  Billy did not know it, but this was a wooden goat,
poised on its hind feet and ready to make a spring to butt somebody.
The Swiss woodcarvers are the finest in the world, and they carve
animals so naturally that one would think they were alive. If even human
beings can be fooled, there was very good excuse for Billy’s believing
this to be a real, live goat, particularly as it had very natural
looking glass eyes; besides, its head was separate and was cunningly
arranged to shake a little bit from side to side.

Now it is a deadly insult for one Billy goat to stand on his hind legs
and wag his head at another one.  Billy Mischief for one was not going
to take such insults as that, even though the goat that gave it to him
was much larger and older than himself, so he backed off into the middle
of the street and gave a great run and jump. Crash! went the fine
plate-glass window!  The sharp edges of the glass cut Billy somewhat and
stopped him so that he landed just inside the window glass.  The other
goat was right in front of him, still insultingly wagging its flowing
beard at him so Billy gave one more spring from where he stood and
knocked that goat sixteen ways for Sunday.  It was the hardest headed
goat that Billy had ever fought, and its sharp nose hurt his head
considerably, almost stunning him, in fact, so that he stood blinking
his eyes until the people in the store had come running up and
surrounded the show window.

[Illustration: Gave a great run and jump.]

Billy was still dazed when the manager of the store, a nervous little
man with a bald head, hit him a sharp crack across the nose with a
board.  The pain brought the tears to Billy’s eyes and still further
dazed him.  The manager hit him another crack but this time on the
horns, and that woke Billy up.  He looked back at the broken window
through which he had just come but the crowd had quickly gathered there.
There were less people inside, so suddenly gathering his legs under him,
he gave a spring and went clear over the manager, kicking him with his
sharp hind hoofs upon the bald head as he went over.  The place was a
delicatessen store and Billy landed in a big tub of pickles.  He did not
care much for pickles anyhow, so he quickly scrambled out of them,
knocked over three tall glass jars that stood on a low bench, and turned
over big cakes of fine cheese.  The manager was right after him with the
board and hit him two or three thumps with it.

Billy was just about to turn around and go for the little bald-headed
man when he noticed at the far end of the store a round, plump man with
his back turned to him.  There seemed something familiar about his
figure and the cut of his short little coat, and it flashed across Billy
at once that here was his old enemy Hans Zug.

Paying no attention to the manager and his little board, he dashed
headlong down the store for the plump man.  Just as Billy had almost
reached him, the man turned around.  It was not Hans Zug after all, but
Billy was going too fast to stop now.  Anyhow, ever since he had known
Hans he had taken a dislike to all fat men, so he dashed straight ahead.
The man darted behind the counter and ran up the aisle, Billy close
after him.

There never was a fat man in the world who ran so fast as this one.
Everybody had cleared out of the aisle behind the counter to make room
for them.  Nobody wanted to get in the way of that heavy man and the
hard headed goat.  The man stepped upon a pail of fish, overturning it,
jumped upon the counter and was over in the center aisle, Billy right
after him.  Everybody in the store was packed in the center aisle,
together with a lot who had come in from the outside when the excitement
began, and they all made way for the fat man and for Billy.  Women were
screaming and men were shouting and laughing.  The manager was still
right after Billy with his little board and thumping him every now and
then on the back, but Billy scarcely knew it, so interested was he in
giving the fat man one for Hans Zug.

The man headed straight up the middle aisle for the door, but, looking
over his shoulder, he found that Billy would overtake him before he got
there, so he sprang over another counter, upsetting a pair of scales and
some tall, open jars of fine olives.  Billy was still right after him
but this time the man fooled him by jumping back over the counter.
Billy followed up that aisle to the end where he turned into the crowd,
just as the fat man went out on the street. Here he upset two ladies and
a policeman who was just coming in, and then took after the man who
looked like Hans.  He was flying down the street as fast as he could go.
After Billy came the manager of the store and two of his clerks, and all
of the boys that had congregated on the sidewalk.

Pell-mell they went, a howling, yelling mob, with the fat man and Billy
in the lead.  The man by this time was puffing like a steam engine and
the sweat was pouring from his face in streams. His collar was wilted
like a dish rag.  He had lost his hat and one of his cuffs, and he could
hardly get his breath.

Policemen, by this time, were coming running from every direction and
one of them, who turned off a side street just then, thinking the fat
man must be a thief, got right in his road and opened up his arms.  The
fat man, who had scarcely any strength left, fell right against the
policeman who was also a very heavy fellow, and just at that time Billy
overtook them and gave the man he was chasing all that was coming to
Hans Zug.  Down in a pile together went the fat man and the policeman.
The policeman had not seen the goat and for a moment imagined that the
fat man had jumped upon him and was trying to overpower him, so he
pulled out his club and, though he was underneath, began, in a way that
was comical, to try to pound the fat man.

They lay there, a struggling, wriggling mass, the policeman with his
short arms trying to reach around the big round man on top of him in
order to hit him some place.  Billy Mischief had stopped and backed up
to give his fallen enemy another bump, and was just in the air after his
spring when the manager of the store caught his hind leg, and he also
was dragged on top of the struggling two on the ground.  The manager
held to Billy’s leg, however, and the crowd which had been following
them closely now crowded around them.  The manager scrambled to his
feet, still holding the kicking Billy by the hind leg, and it would,
probably have been all up with the goat if a big, strong man had not at
that moment come up and putting his great arms around Billy, jerked him
loose.  Billy squirmed and struggled, but it was no use.  The big man
held him tightly and began to run.  The store manager got to his feet
and started after them, followed by his two clerks, but the big strong
fellow who was carrying Billy darted down an alley, then through another
alley, and before the pursuers could see where they had gone, the man
darted through the back gate of a high board fence with Billy, closed
the gate after him, ran along the side of a great building which was
blazing with lights, ran down some cellar steps, opened the door, went
in, closed it after him, turned on a light and set Billy down.

"There, you fool goat!" exclaimed the man.  "I’ll wash the blood off of
you and nobody will know that you have been out."

The big man was the porter and he had brought Billy back to the little
basement room under the hotel.  So ended Billy’s first night in a big
city.

All that night, all the next day and night, and all the following day,
Billy was cooped up in that little basement room with no chance to get
out, and with only Frank Brown and the porter to visit him twice a day.
How he did fret.  The porter kept him well fed and saw that he had good
bedding and plenty of water, but he gave Billy no more chances to escape
and see the city.  He watched carefully as he opened and closed the door
that the goat should not again scramble between his legs or butt him
over.  On the third evening, however, the porter forgot to completely
close the door which led into the other part of the basement, and you
may be sure that Billy lost no time in finding out what was in there.
The room next to his led up into the kitchen and it was stocked with
vegetables and all sorts of kitchen stores.

Billy was not very hungry, but he nibbled at everything as he went
along, pulling the vegetables out of place, upsetting a barrel half
filled with flour in his attempt to see what was in it and working the
faucet out of a barrel of syrup in his efforts to get at the sweet stuff
which clung to it.  Licking up all of the syrup that he cared for, Billy
went on to investigate another barrel which lay on its side not far
away, and knocked the faucet out of it.  This, however, proved to be
wine and he did not like the taste of it at all, so he trotted on out of
the store-room into the laundry, leaving the two barrels to run to
waste.

[Illustration: Pulling the vegetables out of place.]

Everybody in the laundry had gone up into the servants’ hall for their
suppers, and the coast was clear for Billy.  They had just finished
ironing, and dainty white clothes lay everywhere.  From a big pile of
them that lay on a table, a lace skirt hung down, and Billy took a
nibble at it just to find out what it was.  The starch in it tasted
pretty good, so he chewed at the lace, pulling and tugging to get it
within easier reach, until at last he pulled the whole pile off the
table on the dirty floor.

Hearing some steps then, he scampered out through the storeroom and into
another large room where stood a big, brass-trimmed machine which he did
not at all understand.  It was a dynamo, which was run by a big engine
in the adjoining engine-room, and it furnished the electric lights for
the hotel.  Two big wires ran from it, heavily coated with shellac and
rubber and tightly-wound tape to keep them from touching metal things
and losing their electricity. These crossed the basement room to the
further wall, where they distributed the electric current to many
smaller cables.

Billy sniffed at the two big cables at a point where they were very near
together.  They had a peculiar odor and Billy tasted them.  He scarcely
knew whether he liked the taste or not, but he kept on nibbling to find
out, nipping and tearing with his sharp teeth until he had got down to
the big copper wire on both cables; then he decided that he did not care
very much for that kind of food and walked away.  It was not yet dark
enough for the dynamo to be started, or Billy might have had a shock
that would have killed him.

Hunting further, he found over in a dark corner a nice bed which
belonged to the engineer, and it looked so inviting that Billy curled up
there for a sleep.  When he awoke it was nearly midnight and there was a
blaze of light in the basement.  There was a strange whir of machinery
and he could hear anxious voices.  Billy, of course, did not know that
he had been the cause of it but this is what had happened:

When the electric current passes through a wire, the wire becomes
slightly heated and stretches a little bit.  In stretching, the two
cables where he had chewed them bare, came near enough together to touch
each other once in a while, and that made the lights all over the big
building wink, that is, almost go out for a second, and the engineer was
very much worried about it.

What interested Billy more, however, was a small, wire-screened room
that stood near to him.  Presently a big cage, brightly lighted, came
down in it with a man and a boy.  It stopped when it got down into the
basement, when the man and the boy stepped out, going down into the
engineer’s room.  They were the proprietor of the hotel and his elevator
boy.  Billy, as curious as any boy could have been, walked into the
little cage to see what it was like.  The sides of it were padded with
leather, there were mirrors in it that made it a place of light, and
there was a seat at the back end of it.  At the front side near the door
a big cable passed up through it, and to this the boy who ran it had
left hanging a leather pad with which he gripped the cable.  Billy could
barely reach it with his teeth and he pulled sharply on it.  It would
not come away so he hung his weight on it, and immediately the cage
began to go up.  Billy was in an elevator and he was taking a ride all
by himself.  It never stopped until it reached the top floor where a
safety catch caught it.  Luckily the door on the top floor had not been
carefully closed, and Billy was able to slide it open with his horns and
walk out into a narrow hall which had a thick velvet carpet upon it and
from which opened many doors and other halls.

[Illustration: BILLY FELT HIS COURAGE COMING BACK.]

Billy trotted along this hallway, liking the soft feel of the carpet
underneath his feet.  As he did so, all the lights about the building
went out and everything was dark.  The cables in the cellar had at last
settled down so that they lay square across each other where Billy had
chewed the covering off, thus making all the electric current which ran
out of the machine on the one side come right back into it on the other,
with the result of burning out the dynamo so that there could be no more
lights from it that night.  This did not worry Billy any.  Light came in
from the street at the far end of the hall where some white lace
curtains fluttered in the breeze.  It worried a great many people who
were still awake in their rooms, however, and of course they opened
their doors to see about it.

By this time Billy had reached the curtains and took a nibble at one of
them, and, found that it was finished with the same starch, the taste of
which he had liked so much in the laundry.  He wanted it down where he
could get a good bunch of it in his mouth, so he pulled hard, raising up
on his hind feet and throwing his weight upon it.  The curtain gave way
at the top but it was not so convenient as he had expected, for the
long, wide curtain came right down over his back.  He tried to get out
from under it and his horns ran through the open work.  He tried to turn
round and his hind feet ran through other open work places.  He tried to
back out of it and his forefeet got tangled in some more of it.  The
more he tried to get loose from his starched meal, the more tangled up
he got, and at last, growing angry, he began to jump as high in the air
as he could.

In the half darkness, he was a great white figure with a long trailing
white robe behind him, and the first woman he met in the hall screamed
like a steam calliope.  Of course her screams brought others out into
the hall and everybody, even the men, began to run when they saw this
jumping white ghost coming toward them, every once in a while letting
out a loud "baah!"  Many ladies were so frightened that when they came
to their doors, instead of running into their rooms, they started down
the hall ahead of Billy, shrieking and screaming at the top of their
voices.

The noise only confused Billy the more.  The more confused he grew, the
harder he jumped and struggled to get out of the curtain, until at the
very end of the hall, he came to a stairway and went down it head over
heels to the next floor.

Here things were even worse than they had been on the top floor, for by
this time the hubbub above them had brought everybody out of their
rooms, and the crowd was already there.  As soon as Billy scampered to
his feet after his tumble and made another jump high into the air, they
too began running and screaming.

Billy now had gotten into a series of halls that ran the whole length of
the building and had a stairway at each end, so now he jumped and
struggled his way along until he came to a stairway, tumbled down it,
jumped back through another hall full of screaming people to another
stairway, and so on until he reached the ground floor.  Here the
stairway opened into the great, marble-paved, main corridor of the
hotel.  This was just now thronged with men, all wanting to know why the
lights were out and what all the uproar was about.  Through these men
Billy dashed like a hurricane, having now torn the curtains enough to
let his legs have some action.  One big fellow whom he upset fell on the
long trailing end of the curtain, and the shock nearly tore Billy’s
horns loose from his head, but the curtain pulled in two and at last
Billy was free except for a few stray shreds and small pieces that still
clung to his legs and horns.

Now he could see where he was going, and, darting out of the side door,
he ran back to where he remembered the cellar steps into the porter’s
room to be.  The door was wide open and inside he found his friend, the
porter, with a lantern, looking for him.  The porter saw at once from
the shreds of curtain that Billy had been into mischief again, but as
before, he was afraid to say anything about it for fear somebody would
find out that he had left the door of the store-room open, so he simply
took the shreds of lace curtain off of Billy to carry away with him, and
fixed Billy’s bed nicely for the night.

"Bet you came from the Bad Place sure, goat-beast," said the porter,
shaking his head.



                              *CHAPTER VI*

                     *A CELEBRATION WITH FIREWORKS*


The next morning, bright and early, the porter came down to Billy’s room
with a queer looking box made of heavy slats.  One side of the box was
off and the porter carried it in his hand.  Setting the box down with
the open side towards Billy, the porter put an extra bunch of carrots in
it, and Billy, never having seen anything like this before, walked right
in and began to eat his breakfast, upon which the porter quickly slapped
on the side of the box and nailed it tight.  Billy did not realize that
he was trapped until the porter and another man whom he called lifted
the box and began to carry it up the stairs.  Then Billy was angry in
earnest.  He jumped and jerked as much as he could and nearly threw the
men down-stairs by his bouncing.  As soon as they got up on the level
ground, however, the porter and the other man began to shake the crate
as hard as they could, so that, in place of Billy doing the bouncing, he
was being bounced until he had plenty of it and was glad to lie down on
the floor of the crate and hold still, while he was being carried to a
big dray that stood in waiting.

While it was being loaded on the dray, Mr. Brown and Frank came out in
the courtyard to see him.

"Isn’t he a beauty, papa?" said Frank.  "And he behaves himself so
nicely, too.  I’ve been down to see him every other day and he’s just as
nice and quiet as he can be."

"I don’t know," said his father, shaking his head.  "I don’t believe
that a goat able to stir up as much trouble as he did back in the
village where we bought him will be anything but a scamp goat to the end
of his days.  I’m really sorry that I bought him.  It’s going to cost a
lot of money, too, to send him by express from here to Havre and to pay
his passage over to America.  I have a big notion to turn him loose."

When Billy heard that he was frightened, and, turning his solemn eyes
around to Mr. Brown, he "baahed" as pitifully as he could.

"Just hear that, papa," said Frank, "he wants to go with us.  He likes
us."

"Oh, very well," said Mr. Brown.  "But come, we must hurry up.  We have
only a few minutes to make our train."

As soon as Mr. Brown and Frank had walked away, the driver of the wagon
cracked his whip, the horses started up, and Billy was rapidly taken to
the depot.  Here he was loaded into an express car, and in a few moments
more was headed toward France at as swift a pace as the engine could
pull the train.  The express messenger in the car, as soon as his work
was done, lit a short black pipe and commenced teasing Billy.  Reaching
his hand between the slats, he suddenly poked Billy in the ribs, and
Billy, already nervous from the rapid motion, jumped straight up off his
forefeet.  Of course his horns hit the top of the box and pained him.
The man laughed at the funny motion and poked the goat again.  This
time, Billy, afraid to jump up, merely danced, and the man laughed
aloud. Again and again he repeated his trick until the goat was nearly
frantic.  Billy tried to burst out the side of his cage so that he could
get at the man, but the crate was too stout for him to do it any damage
and he only hurt himself by trying, so after a while he gave it up.

At the next stop they made, however, the express agent, while he was
taking on the parcels, slammed a heavy box on top of the crate.  Billy
heard the timbers crack and felt the box giving end-wise a trifle.  For
a moment he was afraid that the heavy box would break down his crate and
squeeze him flat underneath it, but as soon as the train had started
again the messenger moved the box into the far end of the car and Billy
was delighted to find that at last the boards on one side of his prison
were loosened.  The messenger had laid aside his glowing pipe at this
stop, but now he took it up again, although smoking was against the
rules, and came over to tease Billy.  He had no more than thrust his
hand through than Billy lurched his body sideways as hard as he could
against the boards, and out he tumbled.

He was on his feet as quick as a cat and made a jump at the man.  The
express agent dodged him and ran to the far end of the car, hunting
wildly for something with which he might strike the angry goat.  Billy
was up to him before he had time to find anything, however, and chased
him from one end of the car to the other. At last the man stopped in
front of the big box that he had taken on at the last station, and
waited for Billy to jump for him.  When Billy jumped, he sprang aside
and let the goat plunge head first into the side of the box, breaking
open one of the boards and hurting his head considerably. By this time
the man was at the other end of the car and laughing. Billy ran after
him again, but this time he knew the man’s ways. When he started to
dodge back from the other end of the car, Billy also turned like a flash
and was right after him.  This time he got him and gave him a bump that
sent the man sprawling headlong on the floor.  As the man went down, his
arm gave a jerk and his lighted pipe went through the hole that Billy
had butted in the big box.

[Illustration: Dodged him and ran to the far end of the car.]

The man was just scrambling to his feet when a big, blue ball of fire
shot out of the side of the box and scooted along his back. Billy had
wheeled to give the man another dose of his medicine, but just then a
big ball of red fire hit him in the side and he, too, tried to hunt a
corner.  The box was full of fireworks that was being shipped for a lawn
fete, and for the next few minutes there was the most exciting time that
ever happened inside of an express car going at full speed.

Skyrockets and Roman candles, whistling bombs and silver fountains,
flower-pots and pin-wheels filled the air, spitting and spluttering,
popping about from one end of the car to the other, bouncing first off
of the man and then off the goat.  No place was safe.  The side of the
box was soon burst open by the force of the explosions, and the
fireworks came tumbling out at greater speed than ever.

Both Billy and the express agent were hit until they were bruised and
burned and sore all over.  Billy had a great deal of his hair singed off
and the express agent’s face was as black as a coal-miner’s. The smoke
became so thick that they could scarcely see, and it smarted and blinded
their eyes until the express agent thought to open the side doors when
the rapidly rushing wind swept in and carried away most of the smoke.

Luckily the car did not catch fire, though some of the goods that were
being expressed did.  The agent had a pail of drinking water in the car
and as soon as the fireworks were nearly burned out he ran around from
one place to another using his water sparingly and beating out the fire
wherever he could.

Billy, too, seemed to know that burning things were dangerous, for when
a bundle of rugs began to smoulder he jumped on the burning places and
stamped them with his feet until the fire was beaten out.  The express
agent saw him at this and he at once forgot his anger at the goat.
Billy went scampering around after that, stamping out fire wherever he
could find a coal.  After all danger was passed and the express man had
tidied up his car, he sat down puffing and looked at Billy.

"Well, Mr. Goat," said he, "we’ve had a busy time of it and I guess we’d
better be friends.  Don’t you tell on me and I won’t tell on you.  I
don’t want to let anybody know that I was smoking a pipe anyhow.  It’s
against the rules of the company."

"Baah!" said Billy, and that’s all the talk they had about it. After
that they had no further trouble except that the express agent tried to
coax Billy back into his crate, but had to give it up as a bad job.

It was night when the train bearing Billy Mischief drew into Paris.
Billy could not be coaxed or driven back into his cage, so, when the
train stopped, the express messenger had another man come in to help
him.  Between them they managed, after a hard struggle, to get Billy in
the crate, but as they were trying to fasten the lid on he burst out of
it, jumped out of the car door, ran as hard as he could and soon was
safe from pursuit and alone in the streets of Paris.

With a natural instinct to hide from the men who wanted to put him in
that close, uncomfortable box, he turned into the alley-ways and dark,
narrow streets and for a long time ran on without meeting anyone.  But
this sort of thing was not very much to Billy’s liking.  He wanted to
see all the excitement that there was, so by-and-by he turned into one
of the broad, brilliantly lighted streets, where he trotted along
sedately, minding his own business and looking around him curiously at
the gayly dressed throngs.  A great many people turned round to look
after him and laugh, he trotted along so solemnly.

All this time there was great excitement at the railroad station. Mr.
Brown had left word that his goat was to be held until the next night’s
train to Havre as he intended to spend a day in Paris, but the express
department had no goat to hold, so the matter was reported to the police
department, and within a few moments all the red-trousered gendarmes of
Paris were looking for a mischievous white goat with freshly singed
spots on his shiny coat.

One of these gendarmes, soon after he had received his instructions,
found Billy and a big stray Tom cat eyeing each other with every
intention of immediate war. Billy had never spoken to a cat before and
so when he saw this strange animal on the street he walked straight up
to it and said "baah!"  He intended to mean something like our "Good
evening.  It’s pleasant weather, isn’t it?" but Billy’s voice at best
was not a very gentle one and his long horns looked threatening, so the
big cat arched his back and bristled his hair and stuck his tail
straight up.  Billy did not know much about cats but he could easily see
that this one meant fight, so he shook his head angrily.  They were
standing in front of one of the pleasant Paris sidewalk cafés and a
great many ladies and gentlemen were seated at little round tables under
the broad awning.

[Illustration: Billy and a big stray Tom cat eyeing each other.]

Just as the gendarme recognized Billy by his singed coat, the cat let
out an ear-splitting "meow!" and, jumping up, scratched Billy’s face
with the sharp claws of both his forefeet; then it sprang up on one of
the empty tables and down on the other side.  Billy, smarting with the
pain, jumped after him, upsetting the chairs on the other side with a
crash.  The express department had offered a good reward to whoever
should find Billy, so the gendarme took after the goat, overturning some
more chairs.  The cat darted here and there and everywhere among the
little round tables and Billy right after him.  The cat ran under a
table at which were sitting two gentlemen and two ladies, and Billy, now
so angry that he did not notice where he was going, forced his way right
after him, upsetting the table, spilling the glasses and bottles upon it
into the laps of the ladies and making a tremendous noise.  Table after
table they overturned in this way.

Another gendarme, attracted by the hubbub, came up and saw Billy.  He,
too, gave chase, adding to the confusion.  Everybody began to shove back
their chairs.  All of the people were either talking or laughing or
screaming at the top of their voices.  Waiters came running, and one of
them, a little excitable man with a funny little black mustache, tried
to head Billy off.  All he got for it was a good bump right in the
middle of his big white apron and he landed back against another waiter
who was bringing a big tray full of glasses.  The two of them went to
the floor together in a noisy pile of tables and chairs, and Billy
dashed right on over them.  This time, the cat, which was bewildered by
the crowd and had scarcely known which way to run, found an opening to
the street.  Having a clear track, he would easily have gotten away from
Billy except that just at that moment a third gendarme saw the cat and
the goat coming and jumped square in the road of them.

The cat had tried to dart around him but the gendarme’s legs came right
in his road, so the cat began to climb the gendarme, and Billy, coming
up just then, made a dive head first at the cat, catching it just as the
animal reached the gendarme’s lower vest button.  The gendarme sat right
down with a grunt to think things over, while the cat sprang for the top
of a high fence and was over with a whisk of his tail.  Billy could not
climb the fence so he ran back a piece and tried to butt it down, but he
could not do it.  By this time the gendarme he had knocked down was on
his feet again, and two others came running up.

There were now five of the red-trousered little police soldiers after
him, and things began to look very lively for Billy.  They tried to
surround him but he ran through them, and all five of them chased after
him up the street.  At nearly every block they were joined by another
gendarme, so that before he had gone very far Billy was heading quite an
army of French soldiers.  To escape he turned down a dark street.  They
were digging a wide ditch across this dark street and the lights they
had placed there as danger signals had been taken away by some
mischievous boys.  Billy, who could see well in the dark, perceived this
ditch as he came to it and leaped lightly over it, but the excited
gendarmes who were following him could not see it, and the whole crowd
of them fell headlong in the ditch, which, fortunately, was not yet deep
enough to hurt them much.

Billy turned now into another well-lighted street.  Here again he found
a gendarme who, as soon as he saw and recognized Billy, started out to
stop him.  He went like a streak between this fellow’s legs.  Now he
began to wonder why all of these little fellows in the red trousers were
such enemies of his, and when, at the end of the block, he saw three of
them standing in a row, he got angry. Shaking his head, he determined to
give the big one in the middle the hardest bump he had ever given to
anyone in his life.  Lowering his head and shaking it, he went on as if
he had been shot out of a cannon, and, as he drew near, gave a mighty
jump and butted the big gendarme right in the stomach.

Alas for Billy!  In place of the soft human figure that he thought he
was butting, it turned out that the gendarme in the middle was printed
in glowing colors on paper and pasted against a solid brick wall, as an
advertisement for a play then performing at one of the theatres.  The
two gendarmes who had happened to stand alongside of it were real,
however, so when Billy dropped back stunned from his hard jolt the two
real gendarmes promptly arrested him, and it was a very sick and sorry
goat that was shortly afterwards returned to the Express Department to
be held for the Havre train.



                             *CHAPTER VII*

                        *BILLY FINDS HIS MOTHER*


Poor Billy, forced back into his crate and nailed up again, began to
think he did not like traveling very well. So far he had been in two
cities and so far he had seen neither one of them by daylight, while
everywhere he went he got hurt.  All that night and all the next day, he
moped in his crate with a sore head.  On the following night he was
bundled into an express car, and giving up in despair, lay down and went
to sleep.

When he awoke it was daylight and he was being taken off the train in
Havre where the Browns were to take the boat for Cherbourg and then for
America.  This was the first time that Frank had seen Billy since they
left Bern and when he and Mr. Brown walked up to the crate after it had
been taken off the train, Frank’s heart was filled with pity.  There
were raw places on Billy’s head, his fine shiny coat had the black marks
of fire on it, and altogether he was as woe-begone and miserable a
looking goat as ever was seen. Of course the Browns did not know
anything of the adventures that Billy had been through, but Frank was a
boy who did not like to see animals suffer and he was very angry.

"Just see, papa," he cried, "how they have abused my poor goat, shut up
in that tight crate all this time!  I’m sure he’s not so bad a goat as
you thought.  He has been imposed upon.  Please let me take him out of
that crate and lead him by a rope.  I know that he will come along
nicely."

Billy "baahed" gratefully at this, and with some reluctance Mr. Brown
allowed the goat to be taken out of the crate, let Frank secure a rope
and tie him on behind the carriage which was to take them to their
steamer.

It was not Billy’s fault that the knot was an ordinary single bow hitch,
and Billy did not know, when he nipped at the little end which stuck
out, that he would loosen the whole knot and let himself free, but that
is exactly what happened.  For a time he trotted along nicely behind the
carriage, but, as they reached the wharves, Billy saw a sight that
filled him with eager interest.  Near a big cattle boat was an enormous
pen filled with goats which were soon to be loaded on the boat, and
Billy at once ran down to this pen, which was about a block away.  His
heart beat high with hope as he neared it, and when he came close up to
the bars he began to "baah" as loud as he could.

From inside the pen came an answering bleat.  Billy’s mother was there
and she had recognized his voice!  She crowded close up to the bars and
soon she and Billy were affectionately rubbing noses through the little
spaces between the boards and telling each other all that had happened
to them since they had become separated. How Billy did wish that he
could get inside the pen and go to America with her!  He trotted around
and around the high fence trying to find a weak place where he could
break in, but the pen was built strong enough to make all such trials
useless, so after every round Billy would have to come back to where his
mother stood waiting and tell her of his failure.  After he had made a
third trial and came back up to her the wise old goat struck a happy
idea.

"Just stand where you are, Billy," she said, "and by-and-by maybe one of
the drivers will come this way and think that you belong in here with
us.  Then he will let you in and we will go on board together."

She had scarcely more than finished speaking when the lash of a sharp
whip that had whizzed through the air hit Billy on the flank.  Looking
up, he saw a young man opening a gate for him to be driven through.  The
young man had no whip, however, so Billy turned in the other direction
to see where the stinging blow had come from.  Standing only a few feet
away from him was a short, wide man with a whip in his hand, and Billy
started for him with a snort.

[Illustration: The lash of a sharp whip.]

"A thousand lightnings yet again!" exclaimed the fat man, who was none
other than our old friend and Billy’s old enemy, Hans Zug.

Hans knew better this time than to run when he had a way so much easier
to escape.  With all the speed that his pudgy body would let him have he
climbed the bars of a high pen just in time to escape the hard bump that
Billy jumped up to give him.  Sitting on the top bar, Hans whirled his
whip around his head and lashed Billy across the back.  Wild with rage,
Billy tried to reach his enemy, but he could not jump high enough, and
Hans, laughing till he shook like a bowl of jelly, reached down and
lashed Billy once more.  Feeling that with all his strength he certainly
ought to jump high enough to reach his tormentor, Billy tried to leap
again and again, but every time all he got for his pains was a whack
with the long whip.

At last, however, Hans made his big mistake.  After whipping poor Billy
until he was tired, Hans laughed so heartily that he fell backwards off
the fence, and you’d better believe that Billy’s mother made him
welcome.  She met him with her hard head while he was on the way down.
Hans dropped his whip and grabbed for dear life at the fence, and he
caught hold with both hands just at the right height to make a good mark
for Billy’s mother.  That strong and sturdy old goat bumped him twice
for every lash that he had given Billy, and every time she bumped him,
Hans Zug grunted and yelled.  He clawed his feet desperately to get a
foothold on the bars to climb up, but every time he would get one foot
placed Billy’s mother would give him another terrific bump and he would
lose his footing.

Billy, on the outside, ran backward and forward, hoping for Hans to get
to the top and fall over on his side of the fence, and poor Hans was in
an awful predicament.  At last, seeing that Hans’ comical struggles were
not going to put him over where Billy could get at him, that anxious
youngster ran to where the young man was still holding the gate open a
little way, and ran inside, upon which the gate closed sharply behind
him.  He made his way rapidly among the other goats and quickly ran up
beside his mother.  He watched her motion, jumping when she jumped, and
they both butted Hans together so hard that, with a mighty grunt, he
went way up in the air, both his feet landing at once on a bar higher
than the one he had been trying to catch.

[Illustration: They both butted Hans.]

Billy and his mother both laughed, but they were so delighted and so
excited that the next time they tried to bump Hans their horns clashed,
they stumbled and fell back, and in that moment Hans Zug climbed up out
of reach.

When he got to the top of the fence he lay down straddle of it, clinging
with both hands and feet to the topmost bars for safety.

"Hasenpfeffer and pretzels!" groaned poor Hans, panting for breath,
while the big drops of sweat rolled off his cheeks. "Thunderclaps and
sunstrokes!  Oh, my poor trousers!"

He had good reason to say that last, for the sharp horns of the two
goats had ripped his trousers’ legs until they were in shreds, and there
were some sharp red marks on his legs, too.  Billy Mischief and his
mother only capered in joy.  What did they care about poor Hans trying
to get his breath on top of the fence?  They were together, and together
they were going to America!

It was not long until the gate of the pen was opened and all the goats
were driven out through a fenced runway across a fenced gangplank and
through a wide, dark doorway into the hold of the cattle ship.  Billy
and his mother found themselves in a long, low compartment, dimly
lighted by little round windows close under the ceiling.  The goats were
driven up to the forward end of the boat and put on both sides of the
center aisle, behind strong, high bars. By this arrangement Billy and
his mother were separated, in spite of all they could do to keep
together, and could only stand close to the bars looking sorrowfully at
each other across the aisle.  They soon quit this, however, because of a
new interest.  Some surprising passengers came to join them.  First, six
big camels were driven in, two by two, and fenced off next to the goats;
then a herd of small elephants followed these and then came a vast
number, of snarling, growling animals in strong cages; lions and tigers
and other fierce wild beasts.  An American circus that had been
traveling in Europe was on its way back home.

At last the ship was loaded and began to move out of its slip toward the
ocean.  The wild animals had been nervous and noisy before, but as soon
as the ship began to move they became still more excited.  The elephants
trumpeted, the tigers snarled, the hyenas set up their screeching cry,
the lions roared.  It was a perfect pandemonium of shrieks and howls and
yells, and for the first time in his life Billy trembled with fear.  It
was not for long, however. Billy was a brave goat and a smart goat, and
he knew that so long as those fierce animals stayed in their cages they
could not hurt anything.  The only thing that bothered him was that he
remembered how he had broken out of his own crate in the railroad train.

This was the worst trip Billy ever made.  The animals were never quiet
for more than a minute at a time.  There would be a lull when none of
them would make any noise, and Billy would lie down, hoping for a moment
of rest.  All at once some animal would grunt, the next one would
grumble, the next one would growl, the next one would snarl, and by that
time they would all be at it; then suddenly the hyenas would begin.
Then one of the fiercer animals would begin to roar and the old hubbub
would begin all over again, winding up always with the lions’ deep and
terrifying "Hough! Hough!  Hough!"

Billy got tired of it by-and-by, and thought that he would like to go
away into some quiet corner and rest.  A great many of the goats had
been thinking the same thing, and one after another they had been trying
the stout boards, some of them attempting to push them out or break them
and some trying to pry them loose with their stout horns.  None of them,
however, had the patience and strength and determination of Billy, and
at last, down in one corner, he found a board that did not seem so
strongly fastened as the others, and on this board he began prying
cautiously with his horns.  Billy would pry carefully until he was
tired, then lie down and rest a while, then go at it again.  For nearly
an hour he worked at it and at last he was rewarded by having the board
come loose.  He squeezed out through it and the board sprang back into
place.  Another goat tried to follow but he did not know the trick, and
in place of pulling with his horns, pressed against the board, so Billy
was the only one to get loose.

Billy trotted between the long rows of animals, being very careful to
keep in the exact center of the aisle and as far away from all of them
as he could.  One of the elephants reached out his long trunk and caught
Billy by the tail, but it was only a playful nip, and, after jerking
Billy back a little piece, the elephant let him go.  Billy looked around
at the big gray beast and saw by his twinkling eyes that it was only in
fun, so, kicking up his heels, he trotted on with a friendly "baah!"
The lions and tigers and the leopards snarled and howled at him as he
went past, while the hyenas laughed—if the terrible noise they make can
be called laughing.

[Illustration: One of the elephants reached out his long trunk.]

Down toward the middle of the ship was a steep stairway up to an open
doorway that led out on the deck, and up this Billy climbed with ease.
It was delightful, after that close, stuffy place, to stand on the cool,
breeze-swept deck.  The steamer was making good headway now and all
around was the ocean; the shore was only a low, hazy line, away out
there at the edge of the water.  Billy was interested in the gaily
colored circus wagons, some of which, crowded out of the lower hold,
were grouped on the big, bare after-deck, and Billy did not notice,
until up very close to him, that a big, fat man was leaning over the
rail.  It was Hans Zug, and although the ship was riding easy and the
ocean was very calm, Hans was already beginning to feel very sorry that
he had not staid on solid land.

"Ach, I am so sick!" groaned poor Hans.  "I wish I could die, yet!  I
should feel me so much better!"

"Now it would be a kindness to cheer Hans up a little bit and make him
forget his misery," thought Billy.  Lowering his head and backing off a
little way, he gave a run and bumped Hans a good one which he felt he
still owed him for the whipping of the morning. He struck harder than he
knew, and Hans, a big part of his heavy body already lying far out over
the rail, got such a boost that he lost his balance and went bumping
down the side of the ship into the water.

"Man overboard!" shouted the first mate, who was up on the bridge, and
immediately the ship was in great commotion.  Sailors came tumbling up
out of another stairway and Billy thought it was time for him to make
himself scarce.  He did not care to go back into the hold, so he ran in
among the circus wagons and hid.  The ship stopped and turned round.  A
small boat was hastily lowered and the sailors in it began rowing like
mad to where Hans had gone down.  Poor Hans did not know how to swim,
but when a boy he had learned to float, and now, turning on his back, he
kept his hands down to his sides and his face turned up.  When the
sailors got there with the row boat his fat round face was bobbing along
above the little waves like a pumpkin in a pond.

"Ach, those dear mountains at home!" wept Hans, when they pulled him
into the boat.  "How I should wish I was back in Switzerland again.  I
said it that I wanted to die, but it iss not, aindt it? Thank you,
gentlemens!  Thank you!"

A little rope ladder was let down and Hans, all dripping, his clothes
clinging around him and making him look like a wet balloon, climbed up
on the deck.

"Where is that fire and brimstone goat?" he cried, having now had time
to get over his fright and his seasickness enough to be angry.  "When I
find him I throw him in all the ocean what iss! Yes!"

Billy kept as still as he could, but one of the sailors saw his stubby
tail and pointed him out.  Then the chase began.  Billy dashed around
and around the deck with Hans and the sailors close after him, and at
last, when they were almost upon him, he came to the open door of the
hold.  Seeing no other way to escape, he was about to dash down this and
had already placed his forefeet on the topmost stair, when he saw two
great greenish-yellow eyes close to him, staring up at him out of the
dimness.  One of the tigers had broken loose from his cage and had come
slinking up the stairs, and Billy stood face to face with him!



                             *CHAPTER VIII*

                     *AN ENCOUNTER WITH THE TIGER*


Billy felt his heart beat hard and fast, and for a moment his knees
trembled under him.  He backed slowly up to the solid deck and the great
flaming eyes slowly crept up after him.  Billy still backed away.  The
men who had been chasing him were now very close, but one of them saw
the tiger’s head coming up on the deck, and he yelled to the others, who
immediately pressed back.  As soon as he felt the firm deck floor under
him and could see the animal’s head as well as his eyes, Billy felt his
courage coming back to him.  He knew that he had to stand and fight.  He
felt that he could never run fast enough to get away from this powerful
animal, and that before he could even turn and start to run the tiger
would be upon him.

Slowly Billy backed away with his sharp horns lowered, and slowly the
tiger came out on the deck, crouched down until his body almost touched
the boards, his tail, full of hard muscles, waving slowly like a red and
yellow snake.  The men were panic-stricken and scattered in all
directions, seeking places of safety wherever they could find them.
Poor Hans Zug was the slowest of all.  In his fright he stumbled over
his own feet and fell three times to his hands and knees in trying to
get away, and then he tried to hide himself behind a slim iron rod that
ran up from the deck to the bridge, for he was too much paralyzed with
fear to pursue his hunt any further for some safe hiding-place.

The tiger was not in a very big hurry about making his spring. He did
not like the looks of Billy’s horns, although he knew that he was much
stronger and more powerful than the little white goat. Still they came
on, Billy backing away and the tiger creeping toward him until they were
almost where Hans Zug stood trembling so hard that his teeth chattered.
Suddenly the tiger, with a swift spring, went up in the air, intending
to jump clear over Billy’s long horns and land upon his back, but Billy,
himself as watchful and as careful as the tiger had been, sprang aside
just as the tiger jumped, jerking his head sharply upward as the tiger
went over him.  One of his horns caught in the tiger’s under side and
ripped a big gash in him.  Billy immediately sprang in the other
direction, and the tiger, now fiercer than ever, wheeled quickly.  This
time his sharp claw caught Billy’s shoulder as Billy jumped aside,
tearing a big patch of Billy’s hide loose.  The pain staggered Billy and
made him feel faint, but he knew it would never do to give up.  The
animal men now came running up from the rear hold, where some of the
other animals were being fed, and one of them had a pistol, but the two
animals were jumping about so swiftly that he could not be sure of
shooting the tiger without shooting Billy, so he waited to see how the
fight would turn out.

Time after time the tiger tried to get hold of Billy, but the goat was
too quick for him, though each time they met one or the other of them
got a mark.  At last Billy felt that he was nearly whipped. The two
animals were now facing each other for another spring. The tiger, too,
was suffering from the last hook that Billy had given him but he was
fresher than the goat.  Billy swayed on his feet. The light seemed to
turn into darkness before his eyes and he felt as if he were sinking
down, down on a soft bed, but he kept his head bent in the tiger’s
direction.  He felt, rather than saw, the tiger spring once more, and in
spite of his weakened condition he braced himself up and gave one more
sharp, hard toss of his strong neck. His horn caught the tiger right
behind the front shoulder blade and pressed deeply in.  This time he had
found a vital spot.  The tiger rolled over on his side, and, after a
quiver or two, lay still.  He was dead, but Billy did not know it, for
the brave little goat had sunk to the floor with the tiger and lay as
motionless as his dead enemy.  The animal men came running up first, the
one with the revolver in front of the others.  Holding his revolver
pointed straight to where he knew it would reach the animal’s heart, he
approached as slowly and cautiously as a cat creeping up to a mouse
hole, felt the tiger’s side and pronounced him really dead.  Two of the
men dragged the tiger away and the others crowded around the poor goat.
At first they thought that he too was dead, but when they examined him
they found that his heart was still beating slowly. One of them ran to
bring water and another to get bandages.

When Billy woke up his wounds had been nicely washed, ointment had been
applied to them, and bandages were carefully bound over them.  The men
were patting him gently and saying what a fine, brave goat he was and
what a splendid fight he had made of it, and one big gruff voice, which
Billy found out afterwards belonged to the captain, said:

"Well, this goat is not to be tied up any more.  He shall have the
freedom of the ship."

Billy moved his legs feebly and tried to get up, but not feeling quite
strong enough yet, he sank back and found that his head was lying on
somebody’s knee.  And now came the biggest surprise of all, for when
Billy looked up to see who it was, here it was Hans Zug who was holding
him!

"Ach, such a fine little goat, yet," Hans was saying, patting Billy’s
neck gently, while the great tears rolled down his round cheeks.  "Such
a brave little goat, yet.  Thunder weather!  He can butt me overboard
once again if he should to like it!  Aindt it?"

[Illustration: "WELL, OLD FELLOW, IF BROKEN BONES ARE ALL, WE CAN FIX
THOSE."]

Billy was the hero of the ship.  It did not take him long to get well,
and on the third day he was trotting around the deck as unconcerned as
if he had never had a fight in his life.  His bandages were off and only
a little, red-edged scar on his shoulder remained to show how bravely he
had fought the tiger.  Hans Zug never was through praising him, but
nevertheless, every time he went to speak to Billy he came toward him
from behind, for Billy still had a way of shaking his head at him that
made Hans feel like climbing a ladder.  On the first day that he could
go around unbandaged, nobody seemed to be able to pat Billy enough, but,
true to his name, Billy could not long stay out of mischief.

Soon tiring of pacing the long decks, he went below in the cook’s galley
and began to hunt for dainties.  He had learned by this time that people
were very curious about things to eat.  When they saw a goat helping
himself, something was almost sure to happen to the goat and he could
not understand it.  You see, he could not know that everything belonged
to somebody.  All that he knew about it was that if you saw anything you
wanted, and was lucky enough or strong enough or quick enough to get it,
it was all right. Accordingly, he watched the cook, and when the cook’s
back was turned Billy grabbed a fine, big bunch of celery and trotted
off with it. When he got in a dark corner he ate it and it was so fine
that he wanted more.  He went back into the cook’s galley but could not
see any.  Then he went into a little, dark room that opened into it and
found himself in a place full of the nicest things to eat he had ever
seen in one pile.  There were carrots and radishes and peas and fine,
crisp, tender lettuce and all sorts of green stuff which had been
brought aboard for the captain’s table.  Billy ate until he could hold
no more, and then he happened to think that his mother would like some
of that nice celery, so he picked out an extra fine bunch and trotted
off with it.  No one saw him and he made his way down into the hold
where his mother was crowded in the pen with the other goats.  He gave
her the celery and while she was eating it he told her all that had
happened to him and how much the ship’s crew thought of him, and how
even Hans Zug had become his friend.

"My, that was fine!" said his mother as she finished the last of me
celery.  "It is the nicest thing I have had to eat since we left home."

"Ho!" said Billy.  "That is nothing.  We cabin passengers have some of
the finest things in the world to eat.  What you need now is a bunch of
tender lettuce to finish off with, and I’ll go get you some," and he
hurried off, leaving his mother very proud of his rise in the world.

Billy trotted boldly through the cook’s galley, and the cook, who knew
all about Billy’s fight, tossed him some carrot tops as he passed.
Billy was not at all hungry, but he ate the carrot tops just out of
politeness, then he went on into the store room and picked out a nice
big head of lettuce for his mother.  He was just going out of the cook’s
galley with it when the cook turned round and saw him.  Right away the
cook forgot what a hero Billy was, and angry that Billy had taken some
of his precious lettuce, cried:

"Hey!  Drop that, you bobtailed thief!" and threw a skillet at Billy.
It hit the goat in the side with a thump, but Billy never stopped.  He
only ran on until he had gained the hold where his mother was and had
given the nice, cool lettuce to her, when he turned round to hurry away.

[Illustration: Threw a skillet at Billy.]

"Wait a minute, Billy!" she called after him.  "I want to talk to you."

"I haven’t got time," Billy called back over his shoulder.  "I’ve got a
little business with the cook."

When Billy got back into the cook’s galley, the cook was over in a
corner reaching up for some baking powder that he kept on a high shelf.
He was stretched out just right for a good bump and Billy gave it to
him.

"Great Scott!" cried the cook, and jumped up until his head bumped the
shelf.  He quickly turned around but Billy had backed off and now jumped
for him again.  This time the man put out his hands and caught Billy by
the horns firmly enough to keep the bump Billy gave him in front from
smashing him.  Billy, however, jerked away and backed off for another
bump, and the man, jumping up, grabbed the shelf with the foolish notion
of climbing up out of range. He could not have been in a better position
for another bump behind, so Billy gave him that one and he dropped loose
from the shelf, yelling for help with all his might.  In dropping, he
turned around, and this time Billy landed with all his weight right in
the middle of the man’s appetite.

By this time the cook had lost his head so that all he could do was to
spread his arms and legs like an old-fashioned, jointed doll and yell
for help.  Several men came running down the ladder and the foremost one
was Hans Zug with his whip.  Hans had just been over to straighten out a
fight in the goats’ pen, and when he saw one of his goats butting the
cook, he never stopped to think that it was the same Billy he had been
petting and praising, so he hauled off and gave Billy a mighty slash
with his sharp leather whip.  Billy got through with the cook in a
hurry!

So Hans Zug, who had been following him around and patting him on the
back and calling him nice goat and fine goat and brave goat, was ready
to start in again, was he?  Well, Billy would show him!  Like a flash he
wheeled and was after Hans.

"Donnervetter!" cried Hans, and turned to run.

The men who had followed him down the steps were in the way, however,
and Hans ran square into them.  A second later Billy ran into Hans with
enough force to send him sprawling among the men, and four or five of
them went to the floor grunting, with Hans on top.  Before Billy could
back off for another stroke Hans turned quickly and was just in time to
grab Billy by the fore legs.  At the same moment the cook caught Billy
by the hind legs, and these two carried him upstairs to the deck.

"Over he goes," yelled the angry cook.

"Sure!" said Hans.  "He done it to me.  Ein! swei! drei!"

As Hans counted his one, two, three in German, they gave three mighty
swings, and with the last one they let go.

Splash! went Billy into the sea!



                              *CHAPTER IX*

                       *ALONE IN AN OCEAN STORM*


Poor Billy!  Once more he had lost his mother!  He looked for the ship
to turn round and send out a boat as it had done when Hans fell
overboard, but it did nothing of the sort.  Instead, it steamed straight
ahead. In the excitement nobody had noticed that Billy had been thrown
into the water.

The cook got a life preserver and threw it over after Billy, thinking it
a good joke, then the cook went below and Hans stood at the stern
railing shaking his fist at the poor goat.  Billy swam as long and as
hard after the boat as he could, but it was no use; he could not begin
to keep up with its great speed.  Presently, however, he came to where
the life preserver floated.  It was a big circular one and Billy put his
front paws upon it.  His weight made it tip on edge and Billy was
surprised and delighted to find that it held him up in the water, making
the work of swimming much easier. In trying to get his legs further into
it he slipped once or twice, but finally in his struggles his head and
horns went through it, and, after swimming and wriggling a little bit,
he got his front shoulders through and there it clung round him, holding
him up splendidly. It was too small to pass backwards over his body, and
it could not get off over his head on account of Billy’s horns.

It was a lucky thing for Billy that this happened, for that night a
terrific storm came up.  The wind shrieked and howled, the lightnings
glared, the thunders rolled, and great foam-capped waves, some of them
nearly as high as a house, broke over Billy, one after another, nearly
drowning him and sometimes almost crushing him by their weight.

In all his life Billy had never passed such a terrific night as this,
but through it all the big life preserver held him up and carried him
safely through.  Many times there seemed to come a lull in the storm and
Billy began to breathe easier, thinking that he would get a little rest,
but the storm would break out again with new fury each time, until, when
morning came, the poor goat was battered and bruised and nearly dead.
With the dawn, however, the storm calmed down.  The skies began to
clear, the waves grew smaller, and the wind, shifting by-and-by to the
opposite direction from that in which it had been blowing all night,
beat back the waves and smoothed them down until by ten o’clock the
ocean was quiet, only ruffled by gentle swells over which Billy and his
life preserver bobbed in comfort, although he was very tired and
beginning to get hungry.

Ever since the sky had cleared he had seen smoke away off where sea and
sky seemed to join.  Billy knew what smoke meant.  Wherever there was
smoke there were people, and wherever there were people there was food,
so he started toward it, swimming a little bit and resting a long while
between times.  The smoke grew blacker and presently he saw a little
speck under the smoke.  It grew larger and larger, and by-and-by he was
able to make out that it was a big ship coming in his direction.  Poor
Billy swam harder than ever then, and fortunately for him the ship was
coming almost straight toward him.  Still more fortunately, the captain,
sweeping the sea with his glass, made out the life preserver holding up
something white, and immediately thought it must be a woman in a white
dress.  He altered the direction of the ship slightly so that it came
nearer to Billy, and had ordered a boat to be lowered before he made out
that it was only a goat, otherwise he might have passed on by.  The
boat, however, was already lowered, so he let it go.

[Illustration: The ship was coming almost straight toward him.]

The ship was a big passenger steamer, and by this time scores of
passengers were thronging to the rails to see what the excitement was
all about, and when the boat was drawn up, Billy, a comical looking
sight with his big life preserver around him, was placed on the deck. A
boy among the passengers at once ran forward with a shout.

"Why, it’s my Billy goat!" he cried.  "Papa, come and look! See the
singe marks on his back?"

Billy "baahed" joyfully.  He rather liked Frank and was very glad that
he had found a friend.  The captain himself, interested and amused, had
joined the crowd by this time.

"Your goat?" he asked Frank, in amazement.  "Do you always keep your
goats out at sea in life preservers?"

"Not always," laughed Frank.  "In fact, this is the only goat I have.
We lost him in Havre.  The last I saw of him he was tied to the back of
our carriage with a rope.  When we got down to the wharf he was gone.
Then we went down to Cherbourg, where papa had some business, caught
your ship the next day and here we are. How Billy ever got here from
Havre, I don’t know, but here he is and he’s my goat."

"Well, according to the law of the sea," said the captain with a twinkle
in his eye, "he is salvage now and belongs to the men there who picked
him up.  Of course I have a share in the salvage too, but I’ll take a
cigar for mine."

Mr. Brown, laughing, gave him the cigar and then gave the sailors some
money, and Billy was taken below to a large, white, clean room where
some fine blooded horses were hitched in roomy stalls.  Here he was
given a big bowl of warm milk and a bed of clean straw, both of which he
was very glad to get.  As soon as he had drunk the bowl of milk, he felt
so good and warm that he lay down and went sound asleep.

When Billy woke up he saw something that made him gasp with surprise,
and at first he thought he must be dreaming.  Right beside him, sleeping
peacefully, an empty bowl that had contained milk just in front of it,
lay another goat.  It was his mother!  Billy was so overjoyed that he
did not know what to do.  He licked her face gently and when she opened
her eyes he capered around till the horses in the stalls near by thought
that he must have gone crazy. Billy’s mother was no less happy and when
they had calmed down Billy told her how Hans Zug had thrown him
overboard, how he had suffered through the storm and how the ship had
picked him up.

"You were lucky, I guess, that he threw you over," said his mother.  "We
got into that same terrible storm and our ship struck upon the rocks and
broke to pieces.  I do not know what became of the other goats or of
Hans Zug.  Of course all the circus animals in the cages went down.  I
was swimming about in the water when some sailors in a boat grabbed me
and took me with them.  They said that they had not had time to get
provisions and that they might have to eat me.  I would have jumped
overboard when I heard this but they had already forced me under one of
the seats in such a way that I could not scramble out.  The storm was
still upon us and the waves spun us around like a top, and two or three
times we thought we were gone.  By morning, however, the storm calmed
down and we were safe, although some of the men had been swept overboard
by the big waves that broke over us.  All day long we drifted about. One
of the men had brought along a box of crackers and another one had got
some dried beef.  A keg of water was already in the boat so that there
was nearly enough for everybody for breakfast, and when the noonday meal
came, one of the men wanted to kill me, but the others would not let
him.  They wanted to save me, they said, until the next day.  It was
nearly dusk when this ship saw us and stopped to take us on board.  If
this ship had missed us I suppose that to-night would have been my
last."

Billy shuddered.

"Well," said he, "at any rate we are together again, and this time I
suppose that we will stay together.  If you are rested enough come on
and let us look around the ship."

First the two goats trotted side by side past the big clean stalls of
the horses and all around the room they were in, then they made their
way to the stairway that led up to the deck.  They were about to climb
this when Billy spied the open door of a little closet, scarcely large
enough to put his head in.  Full of curiosity, he went up to it and
stuck his nose inside.

"Oh, come here, mother!" he suddenly cried.  "Here is a rope with a very
strange taste.  I had some of it in a big hotel in Bern and I did not
care for it very much, but it has such a queer taste that you must eat
some of it."

The rope Billy meant was not exactly like the ones he had chewed in
Bern, for those were single big wires with a covering to keep them from
touching.  This rope in the little closet was not a solid one but was a
big bundle of tiny wires, each one covered with a queer tasting sheath.
The wires ran from the pilot’s room and the captain’s room to the
engineer’s room and to the other working rooms of the ship, and, by the
use of little push buttons were intended to direct the movements of the
mighty floating palace.

"Why, this is quite a treat," said Billy’s mother, taking a big bundle
of the wires in her mouth.  Another little closet just like this one
stood alongside of it and Billy saw that the door of this was also
slightly ajar.  He pushed it open with his nose, and inside he found
another bundle of wires.  These ran from the passengers’ cabins to the
steward’s cabin, and the electrician had just been fixing them,
carelessly leaving the doors unfastened.

"Why, here’s another bundle!  I’ll try some of them myself," remarked
Billy, so both the goats got to work at once.

Billy’s mother had only chewed at her rope of wires a little while when
the coverings began to come off and the wires to touch. Instantly things
began to happen.  The first wires that touched gave the engineer a
signal to stop and instantly the mighty ship began to slow up.  Within a
short time it had come almost to a standstill and the first mate, up in
the pilot room, immediately took down his telephone and called up the
engineer.

"What’s the matter?" he asked.

"Nothing, sir," said the engineer.  "You gave the signal to stop and we
stopped."

"I did no such thing," said the mate.  "At any rate, start up again and
we’ll investigate."

Just then came another signal, and with a great jangling of bells the
big engines began to turn and the ship wheeled square around.  There was
another jangling of bells, and, shaking with the force of the mighty
engines, the ship began to pick up speed, headed straight back for
France.  Again the first mate called up the engineer.

"What are you doing?" he asked.  "Are you crazy?  Why have you tacked
about?"

"Had orders, sir," said the engineer.

"You lay her northwest by north at once.  Put the second engineer in
charge and report to me immediately."

"Aye, aye, sir," said the engineer and started up to present himself to
the first mate.

The ship was swung back on her proper course and had gone straight a
little way, when all at once the whistles began to blow and bells to
ring, and with this the captain came running up to the pilot room.  The
first mate already had his telephone off the hook and was screaming down
to the engineer.

"What are you doing, sir?" he demanded.  "I thought I told you to report
to me at once!"

"This is the second engineer, sir," repeated the voice.  "The chief
engineer has just gone up to report to you, sir."

"Well, why did you blow a landing whistle out here in mid-ocean? Can’t
you obey orders?  Are you crazy, too?  Are you all crazy?"

"I had the signal and obeyed orders, sir," said the second engineer.

By that time the captain came bursting into the pilot room, while Billy
Mischief and his mother were chewing wires.

"Are you a plum idiot?" demanded the captain.  "Can’t you be left in
charge of this ship?  Have you been drinking?  First you stopped the
ship, then you put back for France, then you turn again, and now you
blow a landing whistle."

At that moment the fog horn began to sound, although the sea was almost
as bright as day with a round moon shining overhead and the stars
studded thick in the sky.

The captain himself grabbed the telephone.

"I want to know who’s doing all this!" he demanded.  "Who’s in charge
there?"

"I am, sir; the second engineer," answered the voice.

"Put your assistant in charge and report to me in the pilot room at
once."

Just then the chief engineer came in.

"What does all this mean?" roared the captain.

"I don’t know, sir," said the engineer.  "I got signals to stop, then to
put about, then to come back on the course, all of which I did."

"I don’t want you to attempt to put this on to me," said the mate.  "I
haven’t touched a button for an hour.  There has been no necessity.  We
have been going straight on our course."

[Illustration: "SHAKE HANDS," SAID BOBBY.]

All this while the steward had been going nearly crazy.  The bells were
ringing from every cabin on the ship, and the waiters were running about
the place like mad.  First one bell, then another would ring, and always
when the waiters went to those cabins they were told that nothing was
wanted and were abused for waking people up.  That part of it was Billy
Mischief’s work and he did as much to put the ship in an uproar as had
his mother.  The sound of the fog horn and the stopping and starting of
the ship, the whistling and the clanging of the bells, kept everybody
awake that had been awakened by the waiters, and hastily throwing on
clothing, the passengers began to hurry out on to the decks to find out
what was the matter.

The steward came hunting the captain, right after the second engineer.

"This ship is bewitched," he cried, wringing his hands, and he told the
captain of all the trouble he was having with false alarms.

Everybody looked at everybody else as if they thought that the others
had all better be in the asylum, and it was just at that moment that
Billy Mischief, down in the hold, turned to his mother and said:

"Oh, come on!  I don’t like this stuff very well, anyhow," and leaving
the little closets to themselves, they trotted innocently upstairs not
knowing all the trouble they had made.



                              *CHAPTER X*

                   *THE GOATS BECOME A FIERY DRAGON*


Not stopping on the lower deck, they went on up until they reached the
main saloon deck.  It was ever so much wider and nicer than the deck of
the cattle ship, and just now it was crowded with passengers who had
hastily dressed themselves and had come out on deck to see what was the
matter with the ship and its queer actions.

"Oh, there’s my goat!" said a boy who was standing at the rail just at
the head of the stairway.

It was Frank Brown and, walking up to Billy, he patted him on the neck.
A bright faced young man who was with Frank also stooped over and patted
Billy.

"Whose goat is this other one?" he asked, turning to pat Billy’s mother,
who, being jealous like most animals, crowded up to get her share of the
attention.

"I don’t know," said Frank.  "It was picked up from a wreck; but the two
goats seem to be very chummy."

Frank was looking along the deck at the long row of excitable
passengers, and suddenly he began to laugh.

"I wish we could play some sort of a trick on all these people," he
said.

The young man’s face lit up with a smile as he gazed at the nervous and
worried looking passengers, then all at once he laughed aloud.

"I’ve got it!" he cried.  "Bring your goats and come into my cabin
quickly.  It’s just inside here."

So Billy, willingly enough, was led by the horns into the young man’s
cabin, and his mother followed after.  As soon as they had reached the
cabin the young man rang the bell, and when the waiter came to him the
young man gave him a check and sent him after a trunk which was soon
brought up.  Opening it, the young man took out an enormous dragon’s
head made of papier maché and painted in bright colors.  It was a fierce
looking head and almost filled the trunk.  It had a great, double row of
gleaming white teeth, red lips, a red tongue that worked out and in,
immense saucer-like eyes and winged ears, while a "scary" looking spine
started from the top of its nose and arched high over its neck.  The
balance of the trunk was filled with a long, thin, sack-like arrangement
which was painted green and red and yellow, and which was to represent
the dragon’s body.

"You know I told you," said the young man, "that I am the property man
of a big spectacular show company, and this is a new dragon that I have
just had made.  It is intended for men to get inside of to walk it
across the stage.  We’ll put the goats in it and start them along the
deck, and then we’ll see some fun."

Neither Billy nor his mother wanted to get inside that strange looking
thing, but the two boys suddenly slipped the big head over Billy and
there was no way for him to get out.  Then, catching Billy’s mother by
the horns, they dragged her to the second slit and put her inside.  The
young man quickly straightened up the ridges and the long, scalloped,
folding side fins of the body, while Frank held the head tightly and let
the goats prance inside.  The young man opened the door and looked out.
The passageway was clear and they soon gained the deck.  The young man
lit a match and stooped down for a moment.  Instantly the big eyes were
lit up with red.  Red flames came out of the tip of the tongue and smoke
rolled out of the nostrils.

They headed the dragon up the deck before anybody noticed it, and as
soon as the goats were let go they started to run in their efforts to
get away from this heavy, dark thing that surrounded them.  The young
man put his hands to his mouth, and making a megaphone of them, gave a
tremendous roar.  Instantly everybody looked, and when they saw this
great, red-eyed and fire-breathing monster coming toward them there was
a grand scamper.  A great many of the passengers thought that a sea
serpent had got aboard and they did not care to see it any closer.  Away
they went, making as much noise as a Sunday school picnic, with the
fiery dragon right after them. Around and around the deck they chased
and the two poor goats were as scared as any of the women on board.

It had been twice around the deck when the red powder that the young man
had lighted in its tongue began to die out, so the young man grabbed it
just as it passed the place where they had started it off and, quickly
turning it in toward his cabin, was struggling with the now thoroughly
frightened goats.  He got the dragon safely into his room, but, as soon
as it was lifted off of Billy and his mother, those frightened goats
made a dash for the door and out on deck. Their only idea was to run as
fast as they could to get away from that dreadful thing, so when the
passengers saw them coming, they thought that some other sort of a
monster was loose and they began to run again.  Some of the men stopped
to see what it was, however, and more than one of them had his revolver
in his hand ready to shoot.  One of them, in fact, had his finger on the
trigger and was going to pull it when another man suddenly called out:

"Wait a minute!  They’re only goats."

The men caught the goats as they were struggling to get through and the
captain, who had been everywhere trying to stop the panic, now came up.
The second mate came up also, and when he saw the two goats he was very
angry and called one of his men.

"Here," said he, "take these animals down where they belong and tie them
up with wires or chains so that they can’t gnaw themselves loose.  If I
see them again before we get to New York there’s going to be trouble for
somebody."

So Billy and his mother, their fun all over, were taken back down in the
hold and tied up tightly, and it was the last time they got loose until
they landed in America.

"At any rate," said Billy’s mother, "we are together."

"I don’t know how we can stay together, though," said Billy, shaking his
head.  "I belong to Frank Brown and, so far as I can tell, you don’t
belong to anybody.  If you only did, maybe Mr. Brown would buy you,
although I don’t believe he wants any more."

And Billy was right about Mr. Brown’s not wanting any more goats.

The day they landed Frank Brown went to claim his goat.  Billy and his
mother were still together, but as Frank was about to take Billy away a
woe-begone looking little fat man came rushing up.

"Those should been my goats yet!" he exclaimed.

"Your goats?" said Mr. Brown, rather angrily.  "Why, man, that one with
the singed spots on his back we have just brought over with us from
France."

"It makes me nothing out!" exclaimed the man.  "They should been my
goats!  I know them both like it was mine own brother and sister, yes!
I know the biggest one by such a black spot on her forehead and the
other one by such singed places like vat iss on his back. So!  I should
bring them both over from Havre, and our ship got such a wreckness in
the big thunder weather, and Ach, I could cry mit weeping.  My name is
Hans Zug and I am a poor man.  Yes! I had more as two hundred goats and
these two is all what I got now, and if you take them away I don’t got
any.  No!"

One of the sailors from the cattleship who had been taken on board with
Billy’s mother came up just then and said that Hans was telling the
truth.  Mr. Brown looked perplexed.

"It’s true," he said, "that we got this goat out of the ocean.  It is
scarcely possible that two goats should be burned exactly alike and this
one either slipped loose from our carriage in Havre or was taken away
from us there by this man.  I have already paid twice for it; once in
Europe, once on the ocean, and now I am expected to pay for him a third
time in America.  Frank, get your goat and come on!"

Poor Hans did not know what to say or do.  Mr. Brown was evidently rich
and powerful and Hans was afraid he might get himself into trouble.  He
looked so miserable, however, that Mr. Brown relented, and taking out
his pocket-book, handed Hans some money.

"Here," he said, "I’ll buy this goat again and then I’ll be tempted to
hire somebody to hang it, only I’m afraid some butcher would sell it to
me a fourth time for mutton."

Frank giggled at this and his father, too, cleared up his anger in a
laugh.  Then Billy, in spite of all his mother’s bleatings, was led away
from her.  Within an hour he was put in a baggage car of a train for the
West where the Browns lived.  This time he was not crated, but was tied
to a ring with a stout rope.

Up to the time that the train began to start he struggled and pulled,
hoping to get away and run back to join his mother, but it was no use.
The train pulled out, and every minute Billy was carried farther and
farther away from the one goat in the world that was dear to him.  He
was a very sad goat and he would have been sadder still if he had known
that his real misfortunes had only begun. All through that afternoon he
chewed at the stout rope, trying to get it loose, and all that night
whenever he woke up he began to gnaw at it, not knowing, of course, how
far he was being carried away, nor how impossible it would be for him
ever to get back to New York, over hundreds of miles of ground, across
rivers, through tunnels and over ferries, or even find his mother if he
ever did reach New York City.

By morning he had his rope nearly gnawed through.  Not long after
daylight the train stopped at a little station and the baggage doors on
both sides of the car were standing open when the train pulled out.
Billy gave a tug at his rope and then another one.  It came loose, and,
giving a short run, he jumped out of the door.  The train by this time
was going at a good speed, and Billy landed in the gravel of a steep
embankment, rolling over and over.  After the train went on he lay quite
still, for he had fainted.  Poor Billy had broken a leg.

[Illustration: Poor Billy had broken a leg.]

After a long time he crawled painfully up to the country road that
crossed the railroad track and led into the village they had just
passed.  He dragged himself along this road quite a way toward the
village, but the pain was too great for him to continue very far, so
presently he crawled to the side of the road and lay down in the cool
grass.  He tried to nibble a bit at this but he was too sick, and
finally he stretched himself out and closed his eyes.  More and more,
now, he missed his mother, and felt that if she could only be there to
lick his wounds his leg would get well again, but now he felt that there
was no hope for him.  All he could do was to close his eyes and die.



                              *CHAPTER XI*

                      *BILLY JOINS A HAPPY FAMILY*


Whoa!" cried a brisk, cheery voice.

Billy slowly opened his eyes.  There on the road above him a pretty
Shetland pony stopped suddenly and shook his saucy looking head, while a
boy a little bigger than Frank Brown jumped down from a little cart full
of grass and ran to the pony’s head.

"Now stand still, Dandy, till we see whether our friend here by the
roadside needs any help," went on the boy.  "It’s a fine looking goat,
Dandy, but he looks sick."

Dandy danced his front feet up and down and rubbed his nose
affectionately against the boy’s neck, while a beautiful collie came
rushing up and capered and danced around them both, giving little,
short, sharp, playful barks.

"Steady now, King, steady," said the boy.  "That’s no way to make a
noise when there are sick people around.  Behave yourself," and patting
the dog’s silken coat with a hearty thump, he turned to see what he
could do for Billy.

The dog reached the goat first and Billy shivered as he felt the dog’s
muzzle touch him.  He jerked his head and began to gather his limbs to
get up and defend himself, when the dog whined a little and he felt that
the touch was a friendly one.

"Why, you poor goat!" said the boy, as he saw the bruised and bleeding
leg.  "I wonder how you ever broke such a pretty, fine limb as that.
Well, old fellow, if broken bones are all, we can fix those."

He passed his hand gently down Billy’s neck to his fore flanks, where it
rested for a moment.  Billy felt better right away.  He liked this young
fellow.  He had never heard a voice or felt a touch that seemed to do
him so much good.  A tiny little stream ran across the road not far
ahead, and, taking a bright little pail from his cart, the boy ran to
this stream and came back with some water.  He carefully bathed Billy’s
leg with his handkerchief and then, wetting the handkerchief thoroughly,
he tied it around Billy’s leg.

"That will do for a little bit," said the boy, "and now we will just
take you right home and fix you up properly."

He stooped down to pick Billy up, and Billy, just as the pony had done
to the boy’s neck, rested his nose affectionately on the boy’s bare arm.
They were strong arms, too, and with but very little trouble they lifted
Billy up and laid him in the cart on the bed of soft, springy grass,
King barking joyous circles around them all the way.

"It’s lucky for you, old fellow," said the boy, as he gave Billy a light
pat and climbed back to his seat, "that I happened to be out cutting
some feed for my pets."

The dog, King, sprang up on the seat beside the boy and sat there
looking as grave as an owl.

"Get up, you Dandy!" said the boy.

The saucy little pony stopped to prance for just a minute to show how
good he felt, and then away he darted.  The road was smooth, the little
cart was supplied with good springs and the grass kept off the jar still
more, so that the ride was a very easy one.  Just at the outskirts of
the village the boy sprang down again and opened a wide gate.  Billy
raised up his head a little to look after this splendid fellow.  He wore
a gray sweater, a pair of overalls, and a straw hat, and he was in his
bare feet.  His nose tilted up a little at the end and his face was all
covered with freckles, but he was tall and straight, his yellow hair
curled from under his hat and his blue eyes were bright and kind, and
Billy thought he had never seen any human being in this world so fine
and handsome.  As soon as the gate was opened, the busy little pony
darted through it and, without a word from the boy, stopped until his
driver could close the gate and take his place again.  Two other dogs
came running down to meet them.

"Hello, Curly!  Hello, Spot!" called the boy, and he patted each of the
dogs on the head before he climbed back up on his seat and took the
reins.

Back a little way from the road sat a small, white house with green
vines and bright red flowers clambering all over the wide front porch.
The ground in front of the house was glowing with flower beds;
everything looked neat and clean, and as if happy, contented people
lived there.  The road from the gate led right past this house, and back
by the kitchen the boy stopped with a "Whoa!"  A pleasant looking woman
came out of the kitchen door, and in her hands she held up a cooky.

"Just out of the oven, Bobby boy," she said, and came up to the wagon to
hand it to him.  He reached down and patted her cheek and with the same
hand took the hot cooky.

"Look in the wagon, mother," he said smiling.

"Well, Bob Sanders!" she cried.  "Another animal!  I don’t know what
your father will say."

"Oh, but look, mother!" said the boy, turning round to show her. "I
picked him up at the side of the road and see, he has broken a leg."

"Oh, the poor goat!" said Mrs. Sanders, her voice as full of sympathy as
Bobby’s own.  Billy liked her voice too.  The sound of it seemed to do
him good in the same way that Bobby’s voice had. "I’ll go right in and
get him some milk," she added.

"No, I’d rather you wouldn’t, mother," said Bobby.  "I’ll give him a
drink of water out at the barn, but I don’t want him to eat anything
just now.  I have got to set that leg and it’s likely to be very painful
for him.  If he ate anything it might make him very sick.  After it is
all through, I’ll make him a little mash and feed it to him."

"All right, Bobby, you know best," said his mother, and she stood there
watching them until Bobby and his wagon had disappeared through the
gates of the barnyard and behind the barn.

When Bobby jumped out of the wagon, chickens came squawking and running
to him, and clustered around his feet so he could hardly walk without
stepping on them; down from the gable of the barn whirred some pigeons,
which circled about his head and one of them lit on each shoulder, while
another one tumbled off in trying to get a foothold.  Bobby laughed,
and, stooping down, stroked the feathers of some of the chickens and
then he reached up and took one of the pigeons in each hand.

"Go, Flash!  Go, Rocket," he called, pitching each one of them into the
air as he spoke, and after circling about him they flew back to their
perch under the eaves of the barn while Bobby unhitched Dandy.

No sooner was that surprising pony unhitched than he ran back to the
pump.  There was a little water standing in the bucket under the spout,
but Dandy upset this at once, and then turned the bucket right side up
again with his nose.  There was a leather loop nailed firmly to the pump
handle and, gripping this with his teeth, Dandy jerked his head up and
down until he had pumped a bucket of water, which he drank with great
relish.  Then he trotted into the barn where Bobby presently carried the
goat.

He gave Billy a drink of cool, fresh water and then, after preparing
splints and bandages and getting everything ready, he set the broken
bone in Billy’s leg with cool, firm hands.  Poor Billy!  It hurt him far
worse than it had hurt to break his leg, but after Bobby had put some
ointment on the leg and wrapped it up in soft bandages and had bound the
stiff boards on it to keep it firm while the bone was healing, it felt a
great deal better.  Billy’s bed was made of some sweet smelling hay
right in front of Dandy’s stall, just where a cool breeze could blow
across him, and after Bobby had gone away, Billy closed his eyes in
comfort.  Next to being back on Farmer Klausen’s farm with his own
mother, this was the nicest place he had ever been in his life.

After a long nap, Billy woke up to find Dandy clattering into his stall.

[Illustration: After a long nap, Billy woke up.]

"Whew, but I’m hot!" said Dandy.  "How do you feel?"

"Pretty good," said Billy, "only my leg does throb and hurt."

"No doubt," replied Dandy.  "I know when Queen had her leg broken she
told me how it hurt her.  You must get around and see Queen and her
babies as soon as you are able, although I expect by that time they will
be in here, tumbling around you.  They are the cutest little puppies I
ever saw in my life."

"I shall be glad to," said Billy, "but just now I’m only thinking about
one thing.  I’m hungry."

"That’s good," laughed Dandy, "you’ll get something to eat all right.
Nobody stays hungry around here.  Bobby will be here with something to
eat soon.  He’s the best boy in the world.  As soon as you get well
enough, he’ll teach you to do tricks."

"Tricks?" said Billy in surprise.  "I never heard of them. What are
they?"

"Oh, you’ll find out," said Dandy.  "I can do a few of them myself.  I
can waltz on my hind legs, and stand on my head, and roll a barrel, and
now I’m learning to stand on a globe and roll it backwards and
forwards."

"My, but you are smart!" said Billy.  "And does he ever whip you if you
don’t do them right?"

Dandy laughed and tossed his head.

"No indeed!" said he.  "Bobby never had a whip in his hand. We’re all of
us glad to do anything he tells us."

"If you know how, stupid," croaked a new voice, and Billy looked up to
see a tame black crow sitting in the window.

"Stupid yourself, Tarwings," said the pony, but it was in a friendly
tone.

"You must have good times here," said Billy, sighing as he thought of
all the places of trouble he had seen in his travels.

"We do," replied Dandy.  "Of course it isn’t all play.  Now I just came
in from hoeing the corn."

"You mean that Bobby hoed the corn while you pulled the hoe," croaked
the crow.  "Don’t mind what he says, Mr. Goat.  He’ll make you think
that he does it all around here," and then, laughing hoarsely, the crow
flapped his wings and flew away.

Dandy laughed heartily.

"He thinks he’s a great mischief maker, but nobody gets angry at what he
says.  He doesn’t mean a bit of harm by it."

Just then Bobby came in with a pail of warm mash for Billy. The goat
hardly knew whether he liked it at the first taste, but as he ate more
of it and felt it warming him up inside, he began to realize how good it
was, and after he had eaten all that Bobby thought it wise for him to
have just then, he lay very contented and lazy while Bobby rubbed
Dandy’s smooth coat with a cloth.

Later in the evening a pretty, little red and white cow came into the
barn and turned into her stall beside Dandy’s.  She was properly
introduced to Billy, and the crow made so much fun of their politeness
that he laughed until he fell out of the window, where he lay on the hay
with his legs sticking up until he was quite through cackling.

"Yes, I heard all about your case," said Tiny, the cow.  "King came out
in the pasture to tell me about it.  You were very unfortunate, but
after all you were very lucky that you got to come here, where nobody
ever even gets cross."

A sharp yelp behind her heels made Tiny jump half out of her hide, and
then King, laughing at the trick he had played on her, sprang from
behind her and over her stall to inquire about Billy. It seemed strange
to Billy to have a dog come near him without getting ready for a fight,
and he could not get over the surprise of being in a place where
everybody seemed to get along so nicely.  He could not understand it at
all until Bobby came in again, and then he reflected that all these
animals were simply trained to the kindness and gentleness that was in
their master.  Before he went to sleep that night Billy had some more
mash and a few tender mustard plants to eat, and he slept like a top
until morning.

Those were tiresome days for Billy.  He did long to get out and play
with the other animals, but he knew that he must first let his leg heal,
so he stood it as patiently as he could.  Bobby came to see him at least
two or three times a day and rebandaged his leg as often as was needed.
The leg healed rapidly, and at last Bobby said one morning:

"Well, old fellow, be good two more days to make sure and we’ll let you
out."

Those were the most welcome words that Billy had heard in a long time,
and he licked Bobby’s hand for saying them.  After Bobby went away he
began to wonder how he should put in those two long, long days, but
before he had time to fret about it he heard a whole chorus of little
yelps, and here came Bobby with King and Queen and half a dozen pretty
baby collies.

"Here, old fellow," said Bobby, "I brought you some playmates. Introduce
them, King, and amuse our friend Billy all you can." Bobby took Dandy
from his stall to hitch him up and go into the village for some lumber,
leaving Billy in good company.  Such puppies as those were!  They nipped
at him, they pulled his tail, they clawed his beard, they hung on his
horns, they sprawled all over him and came tumbling down on all sides,
little, awkward, white and brown bunches of down.  There was no chance
for Billy to get blue or fretful, for those puppies kept him laughing
all the time. Their awkward antics would have made anyone laugh.  For
the two whole days that Billy had to stay bandaged up for safety’s sake,
those puppies kept him amused, and when on the third day his splints
were taken off and he was allowed to walk out-doors with only a cloth
bandage wrapped around his leg, the puppies scampered out after him.

Billy blinked his eyes when he got out-doors again.

My, what a fresh, pretty, green world this was, to be sure!  How good it
was to be alive!  How good it was to be in such a fine home as this!



                             *CHAPTER XII*

                         *BILLY EARNS HIS NAME*


The first day Billy was allowed to walk around for only an hour.  The
second day he was allowed out for two hours, and by the end of that week
he was turned loose without a bandage of any sort on his leg, as well as
ever.  And how he did enjoy his freedom!  He had all the chickens to get
acquainted with, including the two little black bantam roosters, Spunk
and Saucebox, who would jump up on Bobby’s finger and crow whenever they
were told to do so.  A dozen pigeons he had to meet, and four dogs—a
pair of pointers, Ponto and Patty, and a pair of greyhounds, Hurricane
and Lightning,—none of which had been in the barn to see him while he
was sick.

It was while he was meeting all these new friends that he felt something
suddenly swoop on his head, just between his horns, while something
sharp dug into his hair.  The other animals to whom he had been talking
began to laugh and a hoarse voice from between his horns joined in the
merriment.  Then Billy knew that Tarwings was taking one of his
surprising ways of saying good morning.

"Of all the animals here you’re the only one that hasn’t given me a
ride," said Tarwings, "and now I think I’ll take it.  Get up!" He
grabbed his beak into the hair on Billy’s forehead and spread his
jet-black wings.

"Oho!" said Billy, "I’ll give you a ride you won’t like."  So he started
forward, but all at once lay down and rolled over.  Tarwings was too
quick for him, however, for as Billy went over he flew up in the air a
foot or two, and as Billy came back on his feet there was the crow
again, holding tight with beak and talons, and laughing more than ever.
The pony and the cow were both loose in the barnyard and they enjoyed
the joke on Billy as much as the dogs or the chickens or pigeons.  Billy
was the only one in the barnyard who did not seem to see the fun.  His
next attempt to get rid of Tarwings was to run straight at the fence and
butt it, but once more the crow was too quick, and Billy only got a hard
bump for his pains, while the crow settled down on his head again.

"You’re the best of all," laughed the crow.  "You put so much more
spirit and spunk into your work.  I believe I’ll ride with you always
after this."

"All right," said Billy, "this time I’ll give you a good ride."  So
Billy began to go in a circle around and around the barnyard. All the
time he had his eye on a thick clump of gooseberry bushes over in one
corner, and as he ran he gradually widened the circle until one trip was
right close up to those bushes.  On the next circle, just as he came to
them, he suddenly wheeled and dived head first in among them, and this
time he caught Jimmy Tarwings.  The sharp branches scraped the crow off
of Billy’s back and mussed up his feathers till he looked as if he had
been in a cyclone.  The thorns scarcely bothered Billy’s tough hide and
he quickly made his way out of the bushes, to join his particular
friends, Dandy and King. This time it was Billy’s laugh.

"Caw, caw!" cried the crow presently, limping out from the bushes.  He
was a sorry looking sight, but the other animals did not have much pity
on him, for he was such a mischief and it was fun to see him caught at
his own game, so they simply capered around and laughed at him.  Bobby,
who had just come out in time to see Billy plunge into the gooseberry
bushes, also stopped to laugh, but when the crow flew to him he quit at
once, and smoothing down the feathers, examined Tarwing carefully to see
whether he had any serious hurt.

"Serves you right, old fellow," said he, holding the bird close up to
his cheek.  "If you will indulge in rough play, you may expect to get
hurt now and then.  Come here, Dandy!"

Dandy came running to him and Bobby quickly hitched him up. Bobby was a
busy boy and a thrifty one.  He had bought an acre of ground just behind
the barnyard on credit a long time ago, and had paid for it out of the
proceeds of the garden truck which he had raised on it.  He sold eggs
and chickens in the village and raised squab which he sent to the
near-by city.  Besides this he sometimes used Dandy and his wagon for
light hauling, turning an honest penny wherever he could.  As Mr.
Sanders ran the mill in the village and was doing very nicely in a
business way, Bobby was free to keep all his money for himself and to do
with it as he pleased, for he had long ago proved that he could be
trusted with money.  To-day he had a little hauling to do and he drove
Dandy out to the road with a cheery good-bye to his happy barnyard
family.

Bobby left the barnyard gate slightly ajar and he had no more than gone
when Billy, as full of curiosity as ever, managed to swing the gate and
push it wide open, then he darted out followed by all the chickens,
which immediately scattered to the flower beds and vegetable garden to
scratch and eat the tender leaves.

Mrs. Sanders had just hung out her clothes.  Nice white linen always had
struck Billy as being a fine thing to chew on.  He liked it almost as
well as boys and girls do chewing gum.  Of course when he saw some
hanging down for his especial benefit, it was no more than polite for
him to walk up and take a nibble.

Just as he reached up for it, however, Jimmy Tarwings swooped down on
Billy’s back to give him a scratch with his talons and a nip with his
bill, and Billy, not expecting it, of course gave a jump and his head
ran right through the neck of one of Mr. Sander’s undershirts, where he
stuck.  Of course Billy struggled to get away and of course Jimmy
Tarwings, seeing that Billy was fastened, jumped on his back again and
began to claw him with his sharp nails.

[Illustration: Jimmy Tarwings swooped down on Billy’s back.]

"Get up!" croaked Jimmy.  "I’m ready for another ride now. Get up,
goat!"

Billy ran backwards but the undershirt stuck on his horns and he could
not get it off over his head.  He ran forward and it stuck on his
shoulders.  One of the clothes-props came down and the line sank still
lower, so that he had a better chance to struggle, which he did.
Another clothes-prop came down and now a great many of the nice, white
clothes lay dragging on the ground.  Billy, goaded on by the crow, gave
another terrific lunge, and this time the line came loose at both ends
and the whole string of clothes dragged on the ground after the
galloping goat, while Jimmy Tarwings spread his wings and shrieked with
joy.  He was having the ride of his life.

Around the house and past the kitchen Billy tore, scattering chickens
right and left and followed by all the dogs, yelping and barking and
thinking it the greatest fun that had happened in a long time.  Around
to the front of the house went the queer procession and straight through
Mrs. Sanders’ pet geranium bed, all scarlet with beautiful blossoms that
Billy’s samples of wet clothing mashed down flat.

Mrs. Sanders was just opening the front door to scrub off her porch when
she saw her clothes making such a queer trip.  Of course she ran out,
but just as she stooped to catch the line a flapping sheet whipped
around her foot and gave her a jerk that sent her rolling over in the
grass, while the rest of the string of clothes swept on over her, some
of the wet garments dragging right across her face. She was not hurt a
bit and she even had to laugh at what a ridiculous figure she must have
cut if anybody had been looking, but nevertheless she took after Billy
and her clothes again.  Billy, by this time, had made a circle which
wiped out a pansy bed and now, frantic to get away from this strange
harness and from his tormentor, the crow, he made a dash for the open
front door.  The line of clothes caught on the front step, but now Billy
was going so fast that the undershirt tore and let him kick himself
free.  Moreover, as it passed on over his back it caught Jimmy Tarwings,
and for the second time that morning swept him from Billy’s back.  This
time he was in a worse fix than before, for the wet garment, in
springing back, rolled him up in a tight wad and thumped him back on the
steps.

Billy dashed straight on toward an open door across the room. He was so
confused that he did not see exactly where he was going and did not
dodge the center table quite in time.  He ran against one leg of it, and
over the table went with a crash, throwing a big lamp over and spilling
it on the sofa, drenching it with oil and breaking a lot of choice china
bric-a-brac that Mrs. Sanders had collected.

Out through the kitchen Billy hurried with the dogs, Mrs. Sanders right
after him.  The kitchen door was closed but the window was open, so
Billy gave a jump through it, and here he made more trouble, for on a
low, wide shelf, just outside the kitchen window, Mrs. Sanders had
placed some pies which she had just taken from the oven.  Billy landed
on this shelf and upset it, throwing all the pies upside down on the
ground, while the dogs came pouring out of the window in such haste that
some of them turned somersaults when they reached the gravel.  Even the
collie puppies had toddled behind on this chase, and now they could be
heard yelping in the kitchen and wishing that they would hurry and grow
up so that they too could jump through windows.  Billy began to think it
was time for him to get away from there, so he whirled again for the
front of the house, ran with all his might down to the gate and jumped
square over it into the road outside.

"Fine!" said a cheery voice that Billy recognized at once. "That was a
great jump.  I guess I’ll have to make a high jumper out of you."

Billy stopped, ashamed of himself.  For a minute he had been wanting to
run away from this kind friend of his, but all at once he made up his
mind to stay right where he was and take a whipping if he had to have
it, and, as all the dogs piled out of the gate after him and set up a
yelping and capering around Bobby and Dandy, Billy stood among them, his
head hanging down, feeling very cheap.  Bobby, who had forgotten
something and come back for it, was a little puzzled, until he looked up
to the house and saw his mother sitting on the front porch holding up
her line of draggled, dirty clothes, while Tiny, the cow, was calmly
eating up her nasturtium bed, unnoticed.  Then Bobby understood.

"You’re a bad goat," he said to Billy, shaking his finger at him.  "I
have been puzzling what to name you, but now I know," and by some
strange accident he landed on the very name that Billy’s mother had
given him long before.  "I’m going," he said, "to call you Billy
Mischief."

Billy had to behave himself splendidly to make the Sanders family forget
that morning’s mischief, but at last Mrs. Sanders remembered that she
had seen Jimmy Tarwings on Billy’s back when he was running with the
clothes fast to his neck, and so they blamed it on the crow.  They were
used to blaming mischief on that busy bird, so that a little more or
less did not matter much to him.

And now Billy’s education began.  Every day, for an hour or so, Bobby
taught tricks to the pets.  The first time Billy saw this he scarcely
knew his new friends, they were so different and so much in earnest.
First of all, Bobby, who had been training his animals for a long time,
placed a row of boxes in front of the barn.

"Dandy!" he cried, and the pony ran quickly to the big box in the center
and stood upon it.  "King!  Queen!" Bobby cried, and the two dogs jumped
upon the boxes, one each side of the pony. "Ponto!  Patty!" and the next
box on each side was filled.  "Curly! Spot!  Hurricane!  Lightning!" and
the next four boxes, two on each side, were occupied.

This disposed of all the dogs except the six little collie puppies, and
Bobby next called the names of these, one at a time.  Of course the
puppies did not know what to do, but as soon as Bobby had called the
name of one of them he set that one up on its box so that it would soon
learn to know where it belonged.

"Jimmy!" called Bobby, and down from the barn fluttered Jimmy Tarwings
and sat on the pony’s head.  Then Bobby gave a peculiar low thrilling
whistle, and with a whirl and a rush the pigeons came circling and
fluttering down, each one landing on a head of one of the dogs.  "Spunk!
Saucebox!" Bobby called, and the two bantams jumped up, one on each of
his outstretched hands. Two of the pigeons settled down on each of
Bobby’s shoulders and one on top of his head.  The two bantam roosters
started to crow as loud as they could and that was the signal for the
pony and all the dogs except the puppies to stand up on their hind feet,
while the crow and the pigeons fluttered their wings.  "Down!" said
Bobby, and they all settled back upon their haunches.  Bobby dropped his
arms and the bantam roosters fluttered to the ground.

Next Bobby brought out a barrel and called Dandy.  The pony came running
and with a little jump landed right on top of the barrel, rolling it
forwards and backwards, without Bobby helping him in any way or even
coming near him.  Then Bobby took a mouth harp from his pocket and began
to play a lively little waltz tune, upon which Dandy jumped on top of a
little platform that Bobby had built and standing on his hind feet,
began to waltz.

"On your head, now, Dandy," called Bobby, and the pony, after much
struggling, managed to stand on his head for a moment.  This was a new
trick that Bobby had been nearly a year in teaching him, but now he was
almost able to do it without trouble although it was very, very
difficult.  This was not all of the tricks that Dandy could do, for he
could spell his own name and Bobby’s and some others by pawing printed
cards around, and could pick out colors when told to do so, and could
answer questions by nodding his head, and count up simple figures by
pawing with his foot, but his master did not ask him to do all these
tricks this time.  Bobby was as considerate of his animals as if they
were human friends.

Bobby next called King and Queen and they came with a rush, jumping upon
the platform and sitting with their fore legs up, happy and eager.
Bobby put the empty barrel, which was open at both ends and scraped
smooth inside, on the platform.  Then King and Queen got one on each
side of it and rolled it backward and forward, then they both jumped on
top of it, one facing one way and the other the other, and rolled it,
King walking backwards and Queen walking forwards.  When it was at the
very edge of the platform King walked forwards and Queen walked
backwards and rolled it the other way.  Then, at Bobby’s command, they
stopped it in the middle of the platform where King stood toward one end
of it, tilting the other end up while Queen pushed that end so that it
stood upright.  Then King and Queen jumped into it, both at once from
opposite directions, tilting the barrel over and coming out side by
side, a very difficult trick and one that had taken Bobby a long while
to teach them.  Then he threw them a light rubber ball, and King, taking
it in his teeth, would toss it and Queen would catch it.  Then she would
toss it back.  They were ready to do still more tricks, but Bobby never
put them through all that they knew at one time, not wishing to tire
them.

"Ponto and Patty!" he called, and the two pointers took the places of
the collies.  They stood on rolling globes, turned somersaults and
jumped straight up in the air to catch a piece of red leather that Bobby
had hung from a light, horizontal bar which he kept putting higher and
higher for them.  They did other tricks, and then the greyhounds did
some very wonderful high jumping. The terriers waltzed and turned back
springs and walked a tight rope.  The pigeons, at Bobby’s command,
wheeled in the air, two by two, by four’s, in single file, and in fact
went through a regular drill just above Bobby’s head.

It was a finer performance than those usually seen in traveling shows.
Bobby had taught all these pets of his just for his own amusement and
they seemed to enjoy it just as much as he did, and after each one had
done his part, Bobby always had some little delicacy for him; a lump of
sugar for the pony, little pieces of meat for the dogs, some special
seed for the pigeons, and he had a pat on the head and a loving word for
all of them.

"All over!" he cried at last, and the patient animals ran scampering
from their boxes.  "Now, Billy Mischief," said Bobby, turning to our
friend, the goat, "come on, and we’ll learn a stunt or two ourselves."

Billy came willingly enough when his name was called and when Bobby
patted his hands on the boards, Billy jumped upon the platform.

"Shake hands," said Bobby.

Of course Billy did not know what this meant, but Bobby caught hold of
one of his fore feet and lifted it up, shaking it gently, then he set it
down and patted Billy on the flanks.  "Shake hands," he said again, and
this time he tapped Billy on the leg.  Still Billy did not know what to
do, so Bobby once more picked up his foot and shook it, then patted him
on the shoulder.  A dozen times Bobby patiently did this, until at last
when he said, "Shake hands!", and tapped Billy gently on the leg, Billy
lifted up his hoof and laid it in Bobby’s hand to be shaken.

"Good boy," said Bobby, patting him and, reaching in his pocket, he drew
out some tender lettuce leaves which he had found Billy liked better
than anything else.  That was all for that morning.

The next morning Bobby only had to say, "Shake hands!" twice until Billy
lifted up his hoof, and before that lesson was over he only needed the
words and did not even need to be tapped on the leg.  For two or three
days longer that was all the lesson he got, because it does not do to
try to teach animals too many tricks at once.  It only confuses them,
but Billy, once started, was very quick to learn.  Soon he could do as
many tricks as the best of them, and had his box right alongside his
friend Dandy’s.  Some of the tricks that he had learned were brand new
ones.  They had never been seen in a show or anywhere else, and how
Billy did like the work! How he did like Bobby and all his animal
friends, and how he did like this peaceful happy place!



                             *CHAPTER XIII*

                           *A HAPPY REUNION*


One evening Bobby and his father were standing at the front gate talking
when a dusty, red-faced, little fat man came trudging along the road
with a white goat dragging at his heels.  He was a queer looking figure
and he seemed to be very much worried as he came up to them.

"Mister," said he to Mr. Sanders, "could you told me where I should get
such a job yet?"

"I don’t know of any place," said Mr. Sanders.  "Where are you from?
What countryman are you?"

"I been a Switzer," said the man.  "I got no money, no job, no anything,
only this one dumb-headed goat."

Mr. Sanders smiled as he looked from the man to the goat, both of them
woe-begone tramps.

"Rather queer," he said, "to be tramping around the country with a goat.
Where did you get it?"

"That should be all of my troubles, yet," said the man mournfully. "When
I start von Switzerland I have more as two hundred goats what I have
bought for a partnerships to a man for a goat farm back there about four
hours’ walk.  I have such a wrecks by my ship and I lose me all but this
one dumb-headed goat.  Well, I have my ticket by the railroad to where
this man should have the goats.  I promise him some goats, I got one
left, I come all the way von New York und take it to him and what you
think?  He won’t have any.  Because I don’t bring him the more as two
hundred goats what I promise, he won’t take even this one dumb-head,"
and he scowled at the poor goat at his heels as if it had been the cause
of all of his woe.

"How much will you take for your goat?" suddenly broke in Bobby.

"Oh, Bobby boy, you don’t want another goat?" objected his father.
"You’ve got the place overrun now."

"Oh but, father, I want a team," said Bobby.  "I’ve been wishing for one
to put on the other side of Billy when I’m having them do stunts,
besides hitching them up to a cart that I am making.  They will make a
fine team."

"Don’t you think you could find better ways than that to spend your
money?" said Mr. Sanders.

"I don’t think so," said Bobby.  "If I can get it at the right price,
it’s a good investment.  How much will you take?" he asked, turning to
the man.

"I take me ten dollars," said the man.

"Too much," said Bobby.  "It’s more than I think the goat is worth and
more than I care to pay."

"How much then?" asked the man.

"Seven dollars," answered Bobby.  "I don’t want to dicker with you or I
would have offered you less.  That is the most I can pay."

"Take the goat yes!" said the man.  "It’s a dumb-head, anyhow. I belief
me."

Bobby opened the gate joyfully and patted the goat on the neck. The
goat, tired and dusty, felt grateful for that touch just as Billy had
felt and when Bobby said "Come on," it followed gladly.

"I’ll bring you the money right away," said Bobby.  "Come on," he called
again to the goat, and ran back to the barn. Running into Billy’s stall,
he said: "Billy, my boy, I’ve brought a new friend for you and I want
you to be good to this stranger."  With that the strange goat came in
after him and Billy leaped up with a bleat of joy.  The new goat was his
mother!

Bobby ran back to the house to get his money, leaving the two goats
together, and they had so much to tell each other at once that neither
one of them heard very much what the other was saying, until Billy
happened to pay attention to where his mother was explaining how she had
just been sold to Bobby.

[Illustration: Neither one of them heard very much what the other was
saying.]

"Wait a minute," said Billy, "did you say that man was out there now?"

"Yes," answered his mother.  "Bobby just went to get him some money."

"Wait right here a minute," said Billy.  "I owe him something for
throwing me overboard into the sea, and I always like to pay my debts."

Out of the barn he ran, through the gate, down the drive, and cleared
the road gate with a pretty jump.  Then he wheeled to where the fat man,
the money in his pocket, was saying good-bye to Bobby and his father.
Billy had no time to say anything just then; he just ran with his head
down.  The fat man turned and saw Billy coming and started to run toward
the village, going so fast that he fairly waddled sideways, but there
was no use for him to run.  Like two freight cars bumping together,
Billy landed on fat Hans Zug just once.

"A thousand lightnings yet again!" yelled Hans.

Billy did not stop to answer him.  He just trotted back, jumped over the
gate and hurried on to the barn to talk to his mother, about this
splendid, contented home that was to be theirs for a long time to come.
And we could not say good-bye to them in a happier place.



           *      *      *      *      *      *      *      *



                                 *The*

                        *Billy Whiskers Series*


                                  *By
                                Frances
                                 Trego
                              Montgomery*


The antics of frolicsome Billy Whiskers, that adventuresome goat Mrs.
Montgomery writes about in these stories make all the boys and girls
chuckle—and every story that is issued about him is pronounced by them
"better than the last."


                           *TITLES IN SERIES*

1. Billy Whiskers
2. Billy Whiskers’ Kids
3. Billy Whiskers, Junior
4. Billy Whiskers’ Travels
5. Billy Whiskers at the Circus
6. Billy Whiskers at the Fair
7. Billy Whiskers’ Friends
8. Billy Whiskers, Jr., and His Chums
9. Billy Whiskers’ Grandchildren
10. Billy Whiskers’ Vacation
11. Billy Whiskers Kidnaped
12. Billy Whiskers’ Twins
13. Billy Whiskers In an Aeroplane
14. Billy Whiskers In Town
17. Billy Whiskers at the Exposition
18. Billy Whiskers Out West
19. Billy Whiskers in the South
20. Billy Whiskers In Camp
21. Billy Whiskers in France
22. Billy Whiskers’ Adventures
23. Billy Whiskers in the Movies
24. Billy Whiskers Out for Fun
25. Billy Whiskers’ Frolics
26. Billy Whiskers at Home
27. Billy Whiskers’ Pranks


                            BOUND IN BOARDS
                            COVER IN COLORS
                       PROFUSE TEXT ILLUSTRATIONS
                      FULL-PAGE DRAWINGS IN COLORS


             *THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY—AKRON, OHIO*



[Illustration: back cover]





*** End of this Doctrine Publishing Corporation Digital Book "Billy Whiskers' Travels" ***

Doctrine Publishing Corporation provides digitized public domain materials.
Public domain books belong to the public and we are merely their custodians.
This effort is time consuming and expensive, so in order to keep providing
this resource, we have taken steps to prevent abuse by commercial parties,
including placing technical restrictions on automated querying.

We also ask that you:

+ Make non-commercial use of the files We designed Doctrine Publishing
Corporation's ISYS search for use by individuals, and we request that you
use these files for personal, non-commercial purposes.

+ Refrain from automated querying Do not send automated queries of any sort
to Doctrine Publishing's system: If you are conducting research on machine
translation, optical character recognition or other areas where access to a
large amount of text is helpful, please contact us. We encourage the use of
public domain materials for these purposes and may be able to help.

+ Keep it legal -  Whatever your use, remember that you are responsible for
ensuring that what you are doing is legal. Do not assume that just because
we believe a book is in the public domain for users in the United States,
that the work is also in the public domain for users in other countries.
Whether a book is still in copyright varies from country to country, and we
can't offer guidance on whether any specific use of any specific book is
allowed. Please do not assume that a book's appearance in Doctrine Publishing
ISYS search  means it can be used in any manner anywhere in the world.
Copyright infringement liability can be quite severe.

About ISYS® Search Software
Established in 1988, ISYS Search Software is a global supplier of enterprise
search solutions for business and government.  The company's award-winning
software suite offers a broad range of search, navigation and discovery
solutions for desktop search, intranet search, SharePoint search and embedded
search applications.  ISYS has been deployed by thousands of organizations
operating in a variety of industries, including government, legal, law
enforcement, financial services, healthcare and recruitment.



Home