“Oh, Don! do get it!” cried Eunice, clasping her hands tragically, as the emery went into the capacious mouth, and Johnnie-goat meditatively rolled it over with his tongue, to get its full flavour.
Don deftly seized Johnnie-goat’s horns with one hand, and bent back his head with the other, pulling at the silk cord that drooped gracefully out from his mouth—thus rescuing the emery from its Jonah-like retreat.
“Oh! oh!” wailed Eunice, taking the wet and dirty object daintily by thumb and finger, “it’s all spoiled! You bad Johnnie-goat! Box his ears, Don. Look out, Cricket, there he goes at your new shoes. Do get him down stairs now. Ow! there goes my Dresden pin-tray!” with a shriek of despair. Johnnie-goat, whisking from side to side of the room, in search of new excitement, had swept his bearded chin over the low dressing-table, among the array of pin-cushions, trays, bottles, photographs, and brushes. Smash went the dainty Dresden pin-tray on the floor as Eunice spoke, and Johnnie-goat danced off.
“Come, you young bull in a china shop, we’ve had enough of you,” said Donald, diving after him, and catching him by whatever was nearest. It happened to be his tail, which was a short but firm handle. Johnnie-goat whipped around indignantly, and Donald grabbed at his horns.
AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR.
“Whistle down the tube for Sarah to take him, Meg,” he called. “No, stop; I’ll take him down myself, the kids are out of the way. Come this way, young chap,” and Donald pulled and hauled Johnnie, vigorously rebelling, to the top of the staircase. As Johnnie looked down to the floor below, possibly he regarded the stairs as some curious kind of mountains, which his inherited instinct made familiar, for he suddenly plunged headlong down them so fast that Donald lost his balance, and went heels-over-head after him, goat and Freshman arriving at the bottom at the same moment, in an inextricably mixed-up condition. Overhead the excited girls watched and screamed.
Donald unwound his long length slowly. He and the goat had mutually broken each other’s fall, and nearly each other’s necks. As it happened, neither was hurt. At least, Donald discovered that he was not, and as for Johnnie-goat, he seemed as much alive as ever, but in such a state of amazement at all the strange experiences that he was going through, that he quietly submitted to let Don lay hold of his collar, and escort him at a slow and dignified walk down the next flight.
They were half-way down when there was a quick click of a latch-key, and the front door opened. Doctor Ward and a stranger entered. Both stared in amazement.
“How under the canopy—” began Doctor Ward; but Donald interrupted him, explaining calmly: