Billy Whiskers at the Fair

by Frances Trego Montgomery

First he came to the pigs, and such piggy looking pigs you never saw. At least, Billy thought them ugly things, for he himself was so immaculate that he scorned other creatures who had no personal pride, and pigs—Ugh! How they do love the mud and the mire!

So Billy now merely tilted his head to one side and hurried on unseeing, until there, right under his feet, was the most cunning, fat little thing, with a little pink, trembly nose. Plainly it was in sore distress, and in great need of instant care and sympathy. Without one moment’s hesitation, Billy conquered his aversion to the pig family, and up he marched, and gently rubbed his nose along piggy’s back—his only way of caressing. Billy next inquired the cause of all the trouble, and piggy only grunted his reply, but that was enough for Billy to comprehend, and very tenderly did he lift the fat little roll by the nape of the neck—the only way there seemed to be to hold him—and carried him back to his mother, who also grunted to express her relief at the restoration of her lost baby.

“I’ll not remain to receive my thanks,” thought Billy, as he dropped the little pig over into the pen. “That’s not my way of doing good,” and he was off in further search of the Duke of Windham.

That worthy was proudly pacing his narrow stall when he spied friend Billy approaching.

“Ah, here comes His Highness, Sir Billy. I’ll not let him see how I chafe to be out of this box; no, not for a minute would I confess to him how irksome are the hours I have spent here,” and so, when Billy arrived, he was munching hay and looking the acme of contentment.

“Good afternoon, Duke,” began Billy. “I’d not been on these fair grounds ten minutes until I began to look for you. Old friends ought not to forget each other, and I knew you would be glad to see some of your home folks. What a vantage point you chose, away up here on this hill where you can see all over the Fair!” he continued, as he turned to take in the panorama before him. “Indeed, you have a better view of the race course than many have in the grandstand itself,” and with such subtle flattery Billy sought to ingratiate himself with the calf, who at once beamed his delight and most graciously responded:

“Yes, I’ve had a fine day of it. And you see this blue ribbon round my neck? That means that I’m the winner of the first prize,” and the vain Duke began turning and twisting in a useless effort to secure one glimpse of the tag that had caused so many to stop and admire him during the day.

“It’s no surprise to me to see you wearing that, Duke. The Treat boys know far too much to waste their time feeding and currying a beast that is not blue-blooded. And you have been their special pride this season, that I know.”

“Well, it is no secret that Tom is my favorite, and he did give me numberless curryings and rubbings down this summer. My coat is as smooth and glossy as any thoroughbred could wish, and my markings are especially fine, I fancy. That star on my forehead, now, is near perfect, don’t you think?” waiting eagerly for further approbation.