"Not on de Pullman run. Ah dead-heads you once, an' de goat lak to ruined eve'ybody in de cah. No suh! Kain't run no trains an' no mascot at de same time. De rule book leaves out goats, but does you lug Lily wid you, yo' fust run sho' is yo' last."
The Wildcat faced the moment of a great decision. "Den dey won't be no fust trip. Cm on heah, Lily. Much 'bliged, Baptis'. Me an' Lily looks fo' a job whah at dey ain't no rules again' mascots."
The Wildcat headed south along Michigan Avenue, and in a little while he and Lily were adrift in a sea of humanity.
The Backslid Baptist grunted his disgust and went about his own affairs.
CHAPTER VIII
At midnight the Wildcat and Lily pitched their lonely camp behind a billboard in South Chicago.
"Sho' craves mah rations. You done noble wid de grass, Lily, but Ah kain't eat grass. Seems lak you kin nutrify yo'se'f wid whuteveh vittles is laying 'round."
In the dawn the Wildcat realized that his appetite had sprung up like a mushroom over night.
"Wisht us wuz back wid ol' Cap'n Jack in Memphis, whah at de ham-tree blooms th'ee times a day."
At noon his stomach was the residence of a hunger panic. With his mascot trailing behind him, he headed toward the heart of the city.