Billy Whiskers' Travels

by Frances Trego Montgomery

Skyrockets and Roman candles, whistling bombs and silver fountains, flower-pots and pin-wheels filled the air, spitting and spluttering, popping about from one end of the car to the other, bouncing first off of the man and then off the goat. No place was safe. The side of the box was soon burst open by the force of the explosions, and the fireworks came tumbling out at greater speed than ever.

Both Billy and the express agent were hit until they were bruised and burned and sore all over. Billy had a great deal of his hair singed off and the express agent's face was as black as a coal-miner's. The smoke became so thick that they could scarcely see, and it smarted and blinded their eyes until the express agent thought to open the side doors when the rapidly rushing wind swept in and carried away most of the smoke.

Luckily the car did not catch fire, though some of the goods that were being expressed did. The agent had a pail of drinking water in the car and as soon as the fireworks were nearly burned out he ran around from one place to another using his water sparingly and beating out the fire wherever he could.

Billy, too, seemed to know that burning things were dangerous, for when a bundle of rugs began to smoulder he jumped on the burning places and stamped them with his feet until the fire was beaten out. The express agent saw him at this and he at once forgot his anger at the goat. Billy went scampering around after that, stamping out fire wherever he could find a coal. After all danger was passed and the express man had tidied up his car, he sat down puffing and looked at Billy.

"Well, Mr. Goat," said he, "we've had a busy time of it and I guess we'd better be friends. Don't you tell on me and I won't tell on you. I don't want to let anybody know that I was smoking a pipe anyhow. It's against the rules of the company."

"Baah!" said Billy, and that's all the talk they had about it. After that they had no further trouble except that the express agent tried to coax Billy back into his crate, but had to give it up as a bad job.

It was night when the train bearing Billy Mischief drew into Paris. Billy could not be coaxed or driven back into his cage, so, when the train stopped, the express messenger had another man come in to help him. Between them they managed, after a hard struggle, to get Billy in the crate, but as they were trying to fasten the lid on he burst out of it, jumped out of the car door, ran as hard as he could and soon was safe from pursuit and alone in the streets of Paris.

With a natural instinct to hide from the men who wanted to put him in that close, uncomfortable box, he turned into the alley-ways and dark, narrow streets and for a long time ran on without meeting anyone. But this sort of thing was not very much to Billy's liking. He wanted to see all the excitement that there was, so by-and-by he turned into one of the broad, brilliantly lighted streets, where he trotted along sedately, minding his own business and looking around him curiously at the gayly dressed throngs. A great many people turned round to look after him and laugh, he trotted along so solemnly.

All this time there was great excitement at the railroad station. Mr. Brown had left word that his goat was to be held until the next night's train to Havre as he intended to spend a day in Paris, but the express department had no goat to hold, so the matter was reported to the police department, and within a few moments all the red-trousered gendarmes of Paris were looking for a mischievous white goat with freshly singed spots on his shiny coat.

One of these gendarmes, soon after he had received his instructions, found Billy and a big stray Tom cat eyeing each other with every intention of immediate war. Billy had never spoken to a cat before and so when he saw this strange animal on the street he walked straight up to it and said "baah!" He intended to mean something like our "Good evening. It's pleasant weather, isn't it?" but Billy's voice at best was not a very gentle one and his long horns looked threatening, so the big cat arched his back and bristled his hair and stuck his tail straight up. Billy did not know much about cats but he could easily see that this one meant fight, so he shook his head angrily. They were standing in front of one of the pleasant Paris sidewalk cafés and a great many ladies and gentlemen were seated at little round tables under the broad awning.