CHAPTER IV
ON HIS WAY TO THE CIRCUS
IT was ten miles from Cloverleaf Farm to Springfield so Billy Whiskers decided to make an early start for he didn’t want to miss any of the sights by being late. More than that, he could get away much easier before the family were up when it would be necessary to make all kinds of excuses and tell all sorts of fibs, and even then it was as likely as not that the boys would decide that it would be safer for him to be locked up all day, which would make no end of difficulty and delay, even if he finally succeeded in breaking out and making his escape.
The evening before he went around calling on all his friends. While he did not actually bid them good-bye, it was afterward remarked that he had seemed unusually kind and subdued. Polly Parrot, talking it over with the Plymouth Rock family, said that she felt sure all the time that there was something up, but she had never hoped for any such good luck as his clearing out. At which heartless speech the Plymouth Rocks were greatly scandalized, and they told Polly, all talking together, that she ought to be ashamed of herself and that they did not care to associate with her any more until she was ready to take back what she had said and apologize.
“Uh,” said Polly, “Apologize nothing! He’ll be back all too soon. You’ll see,” and she laughed like a crazy person.
It seems that she had overheard Billy Whiskers call her a mean old maid a few days before and had not yet either forgotten or forgiven that slight.
All the animals at Cloverleaf, except Polly Parrot, were deeply grieved when it was learned on Circus day morning that Billy Whiskers was nowhere to be found.
There were all sorts of guesses as to what had become of him.
Tom and Harry, remembering how interested he had been in the billboards at The Corners, at once suspected the truth, and nothing must do but that their father must take them to Springfield that they might look for missing Billy.
Mr. Treat, who had been trying to find some good excuse for going, agreed with the boys very much more readily than they had expected and told them to be ready to start by eight o’clock so as not to miss the parade.
Mrs. Treat, who had said over and over again that Springfield was too far away for any of them to think of going, when she learned what preparations were afoot, at once decided that it would not be safe for them to go without her, and if she went little Dick would have to go too. So at the appointed time they all started.
Billy Whiskers, though he never intended it, was therefore responsible for his little masters seeing a circus for the first time in their lives, and he was glad at having been able to do them that great favor when, in the end, it all came out well.
In the meanwhile Billy, who had started a little after four o’clock in the morning, was on his way to Springfield, following the road which he learned by previous inquiry was the shortest and most direct.
His mind was not entirely at peace for it troubled his conscience to have thus unceremoniously left behind him the home and friends where and by whom he had, on the whole, been treated most kindly; and while it was his good intention to return the following day at latest, there was an uneasy feeling in his bones that it might be a long time before he should see Cloverleaf Farm again, but these sad thoughts and gloomy forebodings were soon outweighed by the excitement of the journey and the anticipation of the pleasures in store.
He had gone probably four miles before anything out of the common occurred to disturb his serenity or interfere with his peaceful progress.
It is altogether likely that he might have gone on and reached Springfield by eight o’clock at latest, in ample time to see not only the great parade but some of the show cars unload as well, had he not turned aside to snip a few heads of delicious looking cabbage which he chanced to spy in a garden at the side of a house he was passing. Cabbage, you know, is regarded about the finest of all vegetables by goats, and in this respect Billy Whiskers was no exception to the rest of his tribe.
So when he saw the beautiful green leaves sparkling with the dew of the early morning, the temptation was more than he could resist.
He was eating away at a great rate, having, as he afterward declared, the time of his life, when, without warning sound, he was startled nearly out of his wits by the feel of heavy hands suddenly laying hold of his horns. A voice that sounded to him like the crack of doom, (that is what he called it when he told the story to his grandchildren many years later) called out:—
“I’ve got you this time, my beauty, and I’ll be blest if I don’t keep you! You’ll pay well for stealing in my garden. Come here, Lige, and help me lock this goat in the barn. He’s the biggest one I’ve ever seen and I can’t handle him alone. Hurry up! He’s getting ugly.”
Billy was certainly becoming as ugly as he could under the circumstances, but there was very little chance for him to use his great strength, and as for butting his captor, Farmer Grant, none at all, for he had both Billy’s horns in his powerful hands and was rubbing his nose in the cabbage or dirt, wherever it happened to strike, with no let-up. With the aid of the hired man called Lige, Billy was finally pushed and pulled inside the big barn door, which was quickly shut and securely locked.
Even then Billy would have made things lively but his horns were still held in that horrible grip, and not until a stout strap was buckled about his neck and he was tied by a strong rope to a wagon wheel did the farmer let go, jumping out of harm’s way at the same instant, for he already felt no little respect for those long sharp horns and Billy’s strong neck.
“We’ll leave him for the day, and by the time we are back from the Circus he will be so hungry that we can manage him without risking our lives. He is certainly the biggest and handsomest goat I ever saw. I wonder where he comes from. You don’t suppose, Lige, that he belongs to the show and has run away? At any rate, he is mine now and anybody who gets him will have to pay well.”
Farmer Grant talked on at a great rate as he and Lige were hitching the span of handsome bay colts to the family surrey preparatory to going to Springfield for the day. They then went into the house for breakfast, and at eight o’clock the whole family had started.
Billy, in the meantime, had been resting and laying his plans. As soon as he saw that he was fastened by a rope instead of a chain he began to be hopeful and his spirits rose, though he greatly regretted the loss of time.
He commenced chewing away at his tether before the Grant family had driven out of the front gate and never stopped until the rope fell apart. This took fully half an hour. While he was doing this, you can imagine his surprise and guilty fear at seeing through a crack in the side of the barn the whole Treat family driving by. He hadn’t expected that they were going to the Circus—hadn’t wanted them to, in fact, for he knew that he would have to keep dodging them if they were there, and he more than suspected that there would be excitement quite enough without this added anxiety.
But since they were to be present, he was glad that he had seen them for he would now be on his guard. After cutting the rope that held him with his sharp teeth, the next thing was to get out of the barn. This was no easy matter, and Billy had about decided that it would be necessary to butt right through the side of it when he discovered a small door fastened on the inside by a wooden latch. By raising the latch with one horn he was able to release and so open the door.
After getting out, he first thought that he would pay off Farmer Grant for all the mean things he had done to him, but just as he was about to begin with spoiling his garden, he heard the clock in the house begin to strike and so stopped to count.
“Ten o’clock,” said he, “and six miles to go. I haven’t time now to do a good job, so I’ll wait until I come back and then I’ll fix him or my name is no longer Billy Whiskers.”
Poor Billy, little he knew what was in store for him!
He soon found that he could no longer travel in the road. There were too many people constantly passing, all going toward Springfield, doubtless to attend the Circus. Almost everybody either called to him, passed comments on his appearance, or wondered where so fine a goat could be going all by himself.
“This is bad enough,” thought Billy, “but it will be worse if somebody overtakes me who knows who I am. As like as not he would try to capture me and then my fun would be spoiled. No, the only thing now to do is to take to the fields. I’ll get there some way but it is harder work than I ever thought.”
He soon found a place where the bars were down, and turned aside into the fields.
Following along as near to the road as he dared, he made pretty fair progress. Presently he heard whistles begin to blow, and coming to the top of the hill he was climbing, looked down on the other side to find the busy little city of Springfield spread out before him.
“It must be noon,” commented Billy, “that’s why the whistles are blowing. It will keep me busy to get to the show by the time the performances begin. The bills said one o’clock sharp. Way off there to the south is the big tent. My, ain’t it a whopper! I don’t know how I shall ever get in, but I must manage it somehow, and I’m glad I’ve come. If only Terrence Bull Pup hadn’t been so snippy, I would have had no trouble and might have seen the whole thing. As it is, I’ve missed the parade. I wish now that I hadn’t stopped to eat that cabbage.
“I hope I see Terrence. If I do, he’ll soon find I am not so good yet as to pass over his slights without notice. I can just feel myself giving him such a butting as he has never had before.”
All this time Billy was trotting down the long hill that leads into Springfield from the west. The houses were becoming thicker and difficulties in going cross-lots increasing. He shortly found it necessary to take to the open streets. But there were so many people, and so much excitement and confusion that Billy was a little out of patience to find that no attention was paid to him.
Even the boys, who had generally made him trouble in the old days, now let him alone.
They were on their way home from seeing the parade where there had been elephants, and camels, and bears, and lions and tigers on view. What was a goat, even as big and proud and handsome as Billy Whiskers, to sights like these?
Besides all that, most of them were going back to see the performance as soon as they had had their dinners. No, they had no time for goats now!
Little they guessed how much of that day’s excitement and fun would be due to the great goat they were meeting so carelessly in the street. If they had, you may be sure they would have looked at him twice.
At length Billy Whiskers found himself before the great tent. People were beginning to crowd in. There were hundreds and thousands of them. The day was hot and the dust stifling. There was an awful racket and Billy had all he could do to keep from being trodden under foot.
As he waited, he wondered what he was to do next and almost wished that he was safely with his dear friends at Cloverleaf Farm. Finally he made up his mind that as there was no one likely to offer him a ticket, the only way for him to get inside was to go. So he made a rush for it right through the opening in the side of the tent, past the ticket takers, who made a grab at him.
“Never touched me!” shouted Billy. Then he raised his head to find himself surrounded by such sights as he had never even dreamed of.