“Fire! Fire!”
“No, no!” came the contradictory cry from someone who had retained a grain of common sense. “Just clear the room! No fire, just a goat!” but his voice was drowned in the uproar and shuffling of many eager feet.
Those on the outside, seeing unmistakable evidences of excitement, were just as anxious to gain entrance as those inside were to get out, such is the perverseness of the human family. The result was that neither could move, and there Billy was at the back, and good use did he make of the opportunity. He had more butting space offered, without any show of resistance, or offer of flight, than ever before in his career.
The farm lads who acted as guards stood bravely at their posts of duty, but this did not mean that they took no active part in the fray. No, indeed! Apples flew from all quarters of the room, and pears, too, hard as bullets, hit him in tender places.
Maddened by this, Billy butted the harder, but when he found there was no hope of opening a way to the outer world and freedom, he turned and faced his tormentors from the rear, and then there was wild scrambling. Many are those who are willing to pursue a fleeing foe, but few there be brave enough to prosecute the attack on an advancing enemy in such battle array as this Billy goat.
Dodging under the tables, they tried to crawl to safety, but Billy proved to be much more nimble on all fours than they, and swept up and down that hall, in and out, overturning tables, scattering the fruit, and punishing the boys, laying in ruin what was but a short hour before the admiration of the entire county.
By the time Billy had succeeded in putting to entire rout the attacking boys, the throng pressing the doorway had disappeared, and he made his way out without difficulty.
Heaving a sigh of relief, he delivered himself of this thought:
“If ever a goat was entitled to a good dinner, it is Billy Whiskers to-day. Yes, sir-ee!”