Billy Whiskers at the Fair by Frances Trego Montgomery - HTML preview

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CHAPTER IX
 
A NIGHT WITH THE DUKE

DON’T you think it is the first duty of a guest to be punctual? Especially a dinner guest?” was the Duke of Windham’s greeting as Billy knocked on his stall door for admittance.

“And do you think it according to the rules of etiquette for a host to remind his guest of his shortcomings in such a fashion as this?” retorted the glib Billy.

“I’ve misplaced the key to the door of my house, so you’ll have to jump,” said the Duke, ignoring Billy’s question. “I’m very sorry, but then I know you are an expert at leaping and vaulting, so it will not inconvenience you as it might old Browny, for example.”

“Not at all, not at all,” returned Billy, and with one light bound he was over and beside the Duke, and they were cordially greeting each other.

“Now, Will-yum, into what mischief have you been this afternoon?” queried the Duke, shaking his head to show his disapproval of any escapade.

“Been on my good behavior all day, I would have you to know—and didn’t find it half so dull as I had anticipated.”

“Come, come, old fellow, none of that. You might as well confess first as last. There is a suspicious cut over your left eye which wasn’t there when you called early this afternoon. Besides, you’re all over shavings. There’s a story back of it, I’m sure.”

“If you must have it, old pry, when the storm gathered, I encountered the most laughable old woman,” and with a chuckle of intense enjoyment at the recollection, he launched forth into the story of the Laughing Gallery episode, and it lost nothing by the telling.

“Do have some of this sweet clover for dessert,” pressed the Duke as Billy finished the recital. “The flavor is delicious, I think.”

Billy accepted a liberal portion of the dainty, and the Duke, feeling it his bounden duty to reprove his friend for his prank, looked very solemn and began:

“Billy Whiskers, it seems to me that a goat of your broad experience ought to have better sense than you possess, and you’re a disgrace to Cloverleaf Farm!”

“Don’t preach to me! You’re not an example I’d care to follow!”

“Which reminds me to ask if anything has occurred at Cloverleaf Farm since my departure,” calmly finished the Duke.

“Um—um,” from Billy, as he busily munched the scented hay. “Um—um, I guess there has! More than I can begin to tell you before our bedtime!”

“I’m all ears, as the donkey would say,” and the calf playfully tweaked Billy to hurry him with the news.

“In the first place, the automobile arrived the afternoon of the day you departed for this Fair. That is how it happens I’m here,” and Billy wiggled his ears and rolled his eyes to watch the effect of this on the Duke.

He was disappointed. There stood the prize calf calmly chewing away, all unmindful of the fact that he was expected to be overwhelmed at the statement.

“Yes, I came in the automobile,” repeated pompous Billy.

Still no evidence of surprise from the Duke.

“I came to the Fair in the new machine,” almost thundered the goat.

“Well, and I came in the wagon. The main thing is we’re here, not how we came. You may proceed with your story, little Mr. Puff-ball.”

“If you’re going to be impertinent, I think I’ll go home for the night, after all,” Billy decided, and was even edging toward the door of the stall, slowly to be sure, but still moving in that direction.

“Don’t be foolish, Billy! You always carry a chip on the tip of your horns. See, here is a nice, soft bed waiting and ready for us. You may have that corner where the straw is the thickest,” and mollified by this generosity and evidence of great good will, Billy settled himself comfortably for the night.

“Pleasant dreams,” from the goat.

“Sweet sleep,” from the calf, and all was quiet.

“Say!” hailed Billy so soon as he was sure the Duke was well on the road to dreamland.

“Uh-huh,” sleepily.

“Duke, wake up, you sleepyhead,” urged Billy.

“What’s the matter now?” impatiently inquired the calf, yawning and stretching in the hope that the goat would take pity on him and leave him to his slumbers.

“I must tell you a story I heard yesterday.”

“Well, out with it quick!”

“The machinist who brought the automobile told it to Mr. Treat, and it’s surely a good one.

“It seems that over in York State they have a lot of foolish rules about speed limits and so on, and this man was touring last summer and experienced all sorts of trouble about it. He was spinning along a fine stretch of level country road one day, and noticed that he passed several men as he neared the outskirts of a small town. Well, these men proved to be outposts set to nab speedy automobile drivers, and they telephoned on to the next guard. So when he was just about to enter the town, there was an officer standing directly in the center of the roadway, waving his arms and calling on him to stop.

“As he blocked the highway, of course the driver drew up, and after finding that he was making better time than the rules allowed, he courteously invited the deputy to get in and ride along to the mayor’s office. The blue coat was only too glad to accept. In he jumped and away sped the car. Gradually the driver put on power until they were tearing along at a mad pace, much faster, in fact, than he had hit it up out in the country.

“‘Hold on, there!’ cautioned the officer. ‘Too fast, young man, entirely too fast!’

“‘Oh, no, sir! You see, I’m so anxious to get there and have it over.’

“‘But—but, sir, you’ve already passed the city hall!’ remonstrated the man.

“‘Well, well, so I have. Guess I’ll have to take you on to the next town now. You see the machine is going so fast I really can’t stop!’

“‘Can’t stop?’ exploded the arm of the law. ‘I tell you you’ll pay dearly for this trick. Dearly, I say! Let me out! Let me out!’ almost choking with rage.

“‘Certainly, my dear sir,’ as the auto slowed down. ‘Much joy to you on your return trip. I hope the sun isn’t too hot and the road too dusty!’ he remarked as he deposited the sputtering fellow three miles from the town limits, with no alternative but to walk the weary distance.”

As he finished, Billy was convulsed with silent laughter, but the Duke never so much as smiled to show his appreciation of the tale. He looked solemnly at Billy and wagged his head.

“Young fellow, it would have served that driver right if his car had been confiscated, and he’d been compelled to walk to his destination. These automobile people as a rule are altogether too reckless. I hope Mr. Treat will escape the speed fever.”

“You’re doomed to be sadly disappointed, then,” retorted Billy, confidently.

“I can’t believe Mr. Treat will so far forget himself as to go racing madly about the country in his automobile, frightening the poor cattle and horses half out of their wits. Why!” and the Duke waxed indignant at the memory, “do you know, Billy Whiskers, as I was coming to the Fair yesterday, I saw a poor chicken laying all mangled in the road, the victim of one of those idiotic auto enthusiasts?”

“And do you know, Your Highness, that we made several chickens step lively and use their wings a bit beside, on the way to the Fair to-day? And, remember, this is your master’s first time out,” Billy replied, prodding the calf in the ribs in a playful mood.

“I’ll not believe it!” championed loyal Duke. “Mr. Treat has far too much thought of the comfort of farm animals to make them suffer so. Let’s go to sleep, I say!” fetching a yawn.

“All right,” agreed Billy, and they settled themselves once more, each to his particular liking.

The Duke had given his first snore—if you don’t believe that calves snore, just go out to the barn late some night next summer when you’re visiting in the country, and listen to all the queer sleepy sounds of the animals and you’ll agree with me that calves do snore.

Yes, Billy waited until the Duke had given his first good-sized snore, when he lifted his head and called:

“Say, Duke! Duke, I say!”

“W-e-l-l?” drowsily.

“Duke!” repeated the goat in sharp staccato.

“Y—e—e—s!” in a long drawn out yawn.

“I merely forgot to say good-night, and since you’re such a stickler on manners, thought I’d tell you that you had omitted it, too.”

“Good-night!” snapped the Duke, “and don’t let me hear another word from you till daylight!”