Billy Whiskers' Travels

by Frances Trego Montgomery

Jimmy Tarwings swooped down on Billy's back.

"Get up!" croaked Jimmy. "I'm ready for another ride now. Get up, goat!"

Billy ran backwards but the undershirt stuck on his horns and he could not get it off over his head. He ran forward and it stuck on his shoulders. One of the clothes-props came down and the line sank still lower, so that he had a better chance to struggle, which he did. Another clothes-prop came down and now a great many of the nice, white clothes lay dragging on the ground. Billy, goaded on by the crow, gave another terrific lunge, and this time the line came loose at both ends and the whole string of clothes dragged on the ground after the galloping goat, while Jimmy Tarwings spread his wings and shrieked with joy. He was having the ride of his life.

Around the house and past the kitchen Billy tore, scattering chickens right and left and followed by all the dogs, yelping and barking and thinking it the greatest fun that had happened in a long time. Around to the front of the house went the queer procession and straight through Mrs. Sanders' pet geranium bed, all scarlet with beautiful blossoms that Billy's samples of wet clothing mashed down flat.

Mrs. Sanders was just opening the front door to scrub off her porch when she saw her clothes making such a queer trip. Of course she ran out, but just as she stooped to catch the line a flapping sheet whipped around her foot and gave her a jerk that sent her rolling over in the grass, while the rest of the string of clothes swept on over her, some of the wet garments dragging right across her face. She was not hurt a bit and she even had to laugh at what a ridiculous figure she must have cut if anybody had been looking, but nevertheless she took after Billy and her clothes again. Billy, by this time, had made a circle which wiped out a pansy bed and now, frantic to get away from this strange harness and from his tormentor, the crow, he made a dash for the open front door. The line of clothes caught on the front step, but now Billy was going so fast that the undershirt tore and let him kick himself free. Moreover, as it passed on over his back it caught Jimmy Tarwings, and for the second time that morning swept him from Billy's back. This time he was in a worse fix than before, for the wet garment, in springing back, rolled him up in a tight wad and thumped him back on the steps.

Billy dashed straight on toward an open door across the room. He was so confused that he did not see exactly where he was going and did not dodge the center table quite in time. He ran against one leg of it, and over the table went with a crash, throwing a big lamp over and spilling it on the sofa, drenching it with oil and breaking a lot of choice china bric-a-brac that Mrs. Sanders had collected.

Out through the kitchen Billy hurried with the dogs, Mrs. Sanders right after him. The kitchen door was closed but the window was open, so Billy gave a jump through it, and here he made more trouble, for on a low, wide shelf, just outside the kitchen window, Mrs. Sanders had placed some pies which she had just taken from the oven. Billy landed on this shelf and upset it, throwing all the pies upside down on the ground, while the dogs came pouring out of the window in such haste that some of them turned somersaults when they reached the gravel. Even the collie puppies had toddled behind on this chase, and now they could be heard yelping in the kitchen and wishing that they would hurry and grow up so that they too could jump through windows. Billy began to think it was time for him to get away from there, so he whirled again for the front of the house, ran with all his might down to the gate and jumped square over it into the road outside.

"Fine!" said a cheery voice that Billy recognized at once. "That was a great jump. I guess I'll have to make a high jumper out of you."

Billy stopped, ashamed of himself. For a minute he had been wanting to run away from this kind friend of his, but all at once he made up his mind to stay right where he was and take a whipping if he had to have it, and, as all the dogs piled out of the gate after him and set up a yelping and capering around Bobby and Dandy, Billy stood among them, his head hanging down, feeling very cheap. Bobby, who had forgotten something and come back for it, was a little puzzled, until he looked up to the house and saw his mother sitting on the front porch holding up her line of draggled, dirty clothes, while Tiny, the cow, was calmly eating up her nasturtium bed, unnoticed. Then Bobby understood.