“Billy!” she repeated, “Whatever is the matter?”
No reply.
Billy merely came up close, held up his head and wagged it to show he could not make answer.
“You’re all over pop-corn, and you’re a perfect sight! Let me out of this cage, and I’ll pick it off for you,” she bribed.
Remembering that she believed herself locked in, Billy reached up and pretended to turn the button, and, satisfied now that it was open, she gave a gentle push, back swung the wire door, and down she fluttered once more, but, cautious creature that she was, she curbed her delight and did not give so much as one victorious cackle at her release.
“Come along with me,” she commanded, assuming the leadership and strutting down the aisle. Billy, meek as a lamb, followed, and they brought up at the rear of the barn, otherwise known as the Poultry Show.
“Stand just here, Billy,” she ordered, “and I will hop up on this hay stack so that I’ll be more on your level.”
She found a secure foothold, while Billy, now ready to do anything to rid himself of the stick-tights in his whiskers, patiently stood near by.
Toppy proceeded to tidy the goat, picking off the corn with a right good will, and enjoying it as she did so, for it furnished a toothsome meal for her.