Billy Whiskers, Jr.

by Frances Trego Montgomery

“Well, I can tell you I don’t care to have my sides peppered like that,” said Billy; “and, too, a bullet might go astray and put out one or both of my eyes. But here comes that fireman I so detest. Let us run and hide. I shall get even with him some of these fine days when he least expects it, for he is always cutting me with that fine-lashed whip that hangs in the engine-house. I don’t care how much he tries to club me, for I can fight, butt, and run, besides when he has a club in his hand he is obliged to come close in order to hit me, so that gives me a chance to butt him, but a long-lashed whip is a very different matter. It winds itself about one before he knows what is coming.”

“I, too, have a grudge against that particular fireman,” said old One-horn, as the boys had nicknamed the other goat, “and if you can get even with him I shall be your friend for life, for it was through him that I lost my horn and you know it is as bad for a goat to lose a horn as it is for a man to lose a leg. Come and lie here in the shade while I tell you how I lost my horn.”

“That fireman,” the old goat continued, “had been persistently mean to me for weeks; had put red pepper in my food until my tongue was nearly burned out, had shaken snuff under my nose and on my beard until I had almost sneezed my head off, had turned the hose on me until I was half frozen, and had annoyed me in a hundred other petty ways, until I felt that I could kill him with a clear conscience if I ever got the chance. He was the largest of the firemen and a champion boxer, but I was not afraid of that and resolved to watch for an opportunity when I might catch him alone and then pay him with compound interest for all the mean tricks he had played on me. One day I was lying here in the shade half-way between sleeping and waking when I saw him come out of the engine-house and start to cross the vacant lot you see before you, for his home is on the other side. He was half-way across when the thought struck me—now is my opportunity. He was alone and carried nothing to protect himself with, so I jumped up and ran quietly behind him, the soft turf deadening all sounds of my approach, and he never suspected that I was near him until I gave him a vigorous butt that was the master-stroke of my life. It sent him flying six feet or more straight in the air. When he struck the ground he lay perfectly motionless for a moment with the breath knocked completely out of him. He was only stunned, however, for he soon raised his head and, seeing me, shook his fist and fairly roared, ‘You confounded old goat, I’ll break every bone in your old carcass for this.’

“I intended to let him alone after that, for I thought he had been punished enough, but when he shook his fist and threatened me, I was mad all over and I lowered my head and would have butted him again had he not caught me by the horns, at the same time giving my head a twist with his great muscular arm, that nearly broke my neck. This made me furious, and I stamped and kicked and tried to get my horns loose, but he held me tight, well knowing that it was dangerous to let me go.

“Well, we rolled and tumbled about in the mud until we were both nearly exhausted, and at last he loosened his hold of my horns, at the same time giving me a parting blow on the head that made me see stars for an instant. In the meantime he started for home on a dead run, and as a matter of course I lost no time in following him, but I did not catch up until just as he was entering the front door of his home. Then I aimed straight for his coat tails, but he shut the door with a bang, catching my horns between it and the jamb; then he pushed with all his might and main from the inside, while I too pushed with all my strength from the outside, hoping to splinter the panel of the door, but instead, I broke my horn, and that is how I lost it and why I owe him a grudge.”

In the back yard of the engine-house stood a pump with a tub of water under its spout. Billy Jr. went to get a drink from it and, while quenching his thirst, heard one of the firemen say to two others standing in the yard, “I’ll bet you can’t do it, though every one knows he needs it badly enough.”

“Oh, it’s easy enough to wash him,” they answered, “the difficulty will be in untying him after it is done, for then he will butt the life out of the first man he catches.”

“Let’s draw cuts to decide who is to do the untying,” said a third.

“All right,” they answered; and before Billy even suspected what they were talking about, he found himself bound and tied to the pump so that he could only move his head slightly.

“So, it was me they were talking about,” thought poor Billy. “Had I only known, they would have had a fine time catching me, and more than one man would have had bruises and torn clothes.”