“Oh, hi there, Billy Whiskers, where are you?” called Mr. Watson. “I want you to pull Ruthie to town in the little goat cart. She is going in to spend the day with some little friends, and they wish to have a ride in her cart.”
So the new harness with all the shining silver buckles on it was put on Billy and he was hitched to the cunning little cart and away drove Ruthie, Mr. Watson’s little four-year-old granddaughter who had come to the farm for a visit with her mother, the only daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Watson.
Billy trotted along the road almost as fast as a pony would go, for the cart and Ruthie were a light burden for such a big, strong goat, and it was no time until they were in town. Of course Mr. Watson drove a little way behind them so he could be ready to take a hand should any accident occur in case they met a drove of cattle, for he did not know what Billy might do in such an emergency.
The first thing they did on coming to the town was to go straight to the home of Grace, the little girl Ruthie was to visit. There they piled into the cart all the children the little wagon could hold, and took them for a nice long ride around town, returning just before luncheon. Before they went into the house they unhitched Billy and gave him just what he liked best to eat: carrots and a bunch of sweet hay with a big pail of cold well water to drink. Then they left him to wander around in the big yard as he pleased, taking care that all the gates were tightly shut before they left him.
Billy ate his dinner which he enjoyed greatly, being extremely hungry after pulling the children all about the town. After he had eaten, he sought the shade of a big tree and took a nap. He awoke feeling very much refreshed and hearing the children laughing at their play on the other side of the house, he thought this would be a good time to run off and hide before they tired of the swing and came for him to take them for another ride. This he had determined he would not do, having ahead of him the long pull to take Ruthie back to the farm.
As you know, gates were nothing to Billy when he wished to go somewhere, as he could jump any gate he ever saw. With a bound now he was over one and out on the street, running as fast as ever he could go toward Lake Winnebago which he could see rippling in the distance.
On his arrival at the shore of the lake, feeling hot and dusty from pulling the little cart around during the morning, he decided to go for a swim. This he enjoyed, coming out greatly refreshed and rested. While he was shaking himself dry, up the beach he spied a queer looking object. He could not make out what it was, so he determined to run up and find out. He had almost reached the spot when something glided on top of the water for a short distance and then rose from the surface and flew for quite a distance as straight up in the air as ever it could go. Then it descended in graceful curves to the water, and again made a flight.
“Heigho! They are hydroplanes!” exclaimed Billy. “My, how I wish I could get a ride in one! I know I should just love the sensation of gliding on the water and then flying straight up in the air. I think I shall go as close as I can to them and see what they look like at close range.”