Billy Whiskers at Home

by Frances Trego Montgomery

“I shall just die,” said the young heifer, “if they do not soon go to bed and let us get off. There are so many of us, why couldn’t some of us go on ahead? Then if he comes out, there would be plenty left and he would not miss those who have gone.”

This was being discussed when oh, joy! the lights in the living-room went out and those upstairs flashed on. A minute after that the procession, Billy at its head, moved silently but quickly out of the barnyard and down the hill to the little stream in the meadow which they followed until it brought them to Mr. Smith’s farm as this was the same little brook that wandered through Mr. Smith’s pasture where the party was to be held.

First came Billy and Nannie, then Billy Junior and Daisy, and then followed in pairs the pigs, sheep, young cattle, old cows and horses last. In this way the shortest went first and each could see over the heads of the animals in front of them. You never saw such a clean, glossy lot of animals as every one of them had spent most of the day in cleaning and shining their coats, either by taking a bath in the brook or rolling in the sand. Then to make themselves smell sweet, they had rolled in the mint bed by the stream or else crushed the sweet smelling garden pinks that had boldly pushed their heads through the garden fence.

They had gone about half their way when in the dim light they saw Farmer Jones’ cattle hurrying helter skelter in their direction, likewise bound for the party. They were coming in no regular order at all. First one would be ahead and then another. And their coats looked mussed and dirty. One white cow had great chunks of mud clinging to her sides.

When the Jones cattle saw how beautifully clean and spick and span the Watson animals looked, they were so ashamed of their own appearance that they felt like going home, and, in fact, the white cow did go back and clean up, arriving much later. She could not face the glossy cattle while she was in such a mess.

The leader of the Jones cattle was an old, old cow, and when she came up to Billy and saw how fine his procession looked, she gave a deep sigh and said, “I never thought of asking my cattle to clean up or to form into a procession, and here we come to the party looking just as we do every day. My, oh my! I can’t tell you how mortified I feel! But I assure you I never thought of cleaning up or of marching over in a dignified way instead of all rushing along pell-mell. But then you are young and up-to-date while I am old and set in my ways and how I am going to look never enters my head. I guess I am too old to be the leader of young stock and I shall resign my place to-morrow. Do you think we would have time to clean up a bit before we go to the party?” she inquired anxiously.

“Certainly! There is lots of time. Just go down to the brook and wade in it a little while and you will even then have ample time to get to the party before it is late. We came early because the younger cattle were so impatient to be off that I consented to an early start,” said Billy.

“Thank you so much, Mr. Whiskers, for your kind advice. I shall take it, and when we appear at the party at least we shall have the dust and dirt washed out of our hair, even if we do not shine like all of you. We won’t have time to let our hair dry and lick it down. What is more, when we do arrive, we will come in some sort of order, and not all helter skelter,” and she walked off to issue instructions covering what she planned to do.

She really expected to have a great deal of trouble in persuading her cattle to stop to clean themselves. But not so; they were every one glad to do so as they saw what a sorry sight they made compared to Billy’s procession.