Billy Whiskers Out for Fun

by Frances Trego Montgomery

THE spotted cat led Button under the floor of the barn until he came to a round hole in the floor that led to the main barn where the grain bins were. Through this hole they squeezed themselves and from there crossed the barn floor to a ladder that led up into the haymow.

Once in the hayloft they hurried over to the door that was directly under the window where the pigeons went in and out to their nests, but there on the hay, wriggling and crying, were the baby squabs who opened their mouths so wide they nearly fell over backwards when they heard the spotted cat and Button approaching. They thought every sound was their mothers coming to feed them.

“Now help yourself, Mr. Button. Pick out the plumpest, and fall to. But before we begin we better drag to the door a couple of squabs and drop them down to your friend.”

Though their intentions were good, only trouble came from it, for just as the squabs fell from the open door, the farmer happened to be passing and they hit him on the head. This surprised him greatly and he immediately came running up into the hayloft to see what had happened to his squabs.

And there he found that a whole row of boxes which held the nests had fallen down from the upper window into the hay and spilled out nearly all of his nice fat squabs that were to be one of the delicacies at the wedding feast. This was bad enough, but it infuriated him to find a big stray cat and his own cat eating them up as fast as they could and he grabbed up a pitchfork that was sticking up in the hay and ran toward them.

Button saw by the angry gleam in his eye that he would as soon run the pitchfork into them as not, so he ran for the door, preferring to take the risk of having his neck broken by the fall to being run through with the pitchfork.

The loft was high—at least fifteen or eighteen feet from the ground—but Button took the leap without a moment’s hesitation, not even casting his eyes down to see where he was going to land, for he had felt the prongs of the fork prick his tail as he left.

Imagine his surprise on landing to find himself sitting on the broad back of a big Durham bull! Also imagine the surprise of the bull at having a pincushion land on his back filled with pins that stuck into him when he was doing nothing but standing quietly in the yard!

Button had scarcely touched his back when the bull bounded forward. Of course this made Button stick his claws deeper into the hide of the bull to keep from falling off, and of course this hurt the bull and made him try to shake off whatever was on his back. He started around the yard on a run, jumping up and down and shaking himself, but no matter what he did the sharp prickling thing on his back stuck on.

Just then he spied a little dog coming around the corner of the barn. He hated dogs at any time and now being hurt and cross and looking for some person or animal to vent his spite on, he started for the dog who was no other than Stubby.