The Pumpkin Man glowered at him—or so Billy thought.
“The impudent rascal! Most likely he wants to put on citified airs. I’ve heard of people who were ashamed to own that they hailed from the good old farm. The ninnies! What would all the city folks do without the farmer? Why, I think a man who can farm the way Mr. Treat does is one of the greatest men in all the land, and ought to be ranked with bank presidents, professors, judges, and so on. But if it is homage he wants, homage he shall have.”
“How do you do, Mr. Pumpkin Man?” Billy ventured the third time, now bowing low before him in a curtsey.
But not a sign of recognition lighted up the fellow’s face. He maintained that blank stare, which was most disconcerting to our Billy Whiskers.
“I shall make him pay dearly for insulting me so, and before all this crowd of watching, curious people, too.”
His wrath up, Billy charged, and hit the foe squarely in the stomach. Evidently one round was enough for the dignified Pumpkin Man, for over he tumbled, and what a fall it was!
Arms, legs, body went flying this way and that. It seemed he had no real backbone at all! His head rolled forward, his body back, and arms flew sidewise. Such a wobbly, make-believe man! Unfortunately, Billy’s horns caught the head as it fell, and hooked the ample, grinning, impudent mouth. Billy shook himself to free him of the burden, but that merely served to make the pumpkin head settle down more securely. There was a mighty, thundering roar of amusement from the spectators of this little comedy, and at the sound Billy, always over-sensitive to ridicule, turned with but one thought, and that was to escape from the scene of the encounter and his disgrace.
But no sooner did he wheel about than he saw all backs—not one person in the whole crowd was brave enough to face him, and they were making undue haste to fly from the building before the goat should take it into his fertile brain to charge them as he had the “punkin head.”
Those in the lead did not know what was the real trouble, for moment by moment they were joined by others from different parts of the hall. They only knew that there was a great press of people crowding toward the door, and supposing that something dreadful must be the cause, were excitedly pushing toward the exit. Frightened women, terrified children, and men in much the same state, it must be confessed, were in the throng, and there rose a perfect babel of cries: