O sooner did Billy make this glad discovery than he straightway forgot his benefactress, and trotted off, leaving her perched there on the hay stack, deploring his lack of gratitude.
“Just like my husband, Coxy. You can work and work and work for him, and just so soon as he is fine and dandy, off he struts to make friends with some vain young pullet,” and she snuggled down in the hay, much too grieved to venture out and explore the surrounding territory.
In the meantime Billy was hurrying off, for he knew he had much to see and do before the close of this, the greatest day of the Fair.
“That silly thing of a hen never surmised that I couldn’t talk. She thought I was just disinclined to share my secret, and would not take her into my confidence. Now I have managed to fix myself up without much outside assistance, I really can’t see the necessity of confessing the box I was in. One often gets into trouble by telling too much, but seldom, if ever, by saying too little. That’s my working policy.”
“It must be growing along toward ten o’clock, if I can judge anything by the sun’s progress. I must at least inspect one hall before lunch and then, after that, the races will begin. I missed them entirely yesterday, and the Duke of Windham says that they are the principal attraction of the Fair. I must be there early to-day in order to secure a good view.”
Now the building Billy was approaching was by far the most pretentious on the grounds. It was fully one hundred and fifty feet long by forty wide, and there were great doors at either end, one swallowing up throngs of people all pressing in, and the other pouring forth an equal number.
“I must get in there by some hocus-pocus,” Billy thought, and he joined in the press.
Up three steps and then he was in a wonderful place. The moment they gained entrance, there was ample room, for the people separated into groups, one going this way and another that, down one aisle and up another, wandering along examining the exhibits.
Down the center of the building were long tables, each bearing its burden of fruit. One section was devoted exclusively to the apple crop, and there were plates upon plates of the wholesome fruit, each specimen with glowing cheeks, the result of careful and prolonged rubbing. Greenings, rambows, pippins, russets, northern spies—every kind was in evidence, all labeled and each species vieing with the other for popularity.
THERE PEEPING FROM BEHIND THE SKIRTS OF THE
SECOND WOMAN WAS A HANDSOME GOAT.
Another section showed pears, hard and still green, to be sure, but great, large pears that promised delicious eating bye and bye when they should be mellow. Guarding each section was a farmer boy, stationed there both to protect the exhibits from pilfering by the sightseers and also to answer the numerous questions they propounded.
Around the walls of the room were exhibits of everything that the good ground yields so bounteously—potatoes, squashes, corn, and grains. One progressive farmer had brought an entire pumpkin vine, to show its enormous length and its great burden of golden fruit.
But the center of interest appeared to be half way down the hall, for there gathered the largest group of wondering people, who pushed and crowded their way to the front, each eager to secure a glimpse of that which caused so many admiring oh’s and ah’s. And Billy, of course, was not slow in reaching this spot.
What did he care for common, everyday apples when there was something that promised new and greater interest?
Up he marched, and knowing the best way to forge ahead was to use his horns, he stooped to that, and butted his way to the front.
“Oh, the pumpkin man, the pumpkin man!” cried a little youngster delightedly, jumping up and down in his excitement, and there, to be sure, he stood in full array.
A very wonderful man he was. His head was round as a ball, for it was fashioned from a fat little pumpkin, the roundest that the fields could furnish. Eyes were made from corn husks, cut as large and round as a silver dollar, while the eyebrows were heavily outlined with black ink. Nose and mouth were cut like boys and girls do for jack-o’-lanterns for Hallowe’en pranks, and teeth were furnished by large, perfect kernels of corn.
This queer fellow’s body resembled to a striking extent an elongated pumpkin, and his arms were perfectly matched, long-necked summer squashes. His hands were doubled up into fists, being the enlarged ends of the squashes. A pair of legs were giant ears of golden corn, and the dandy was togged out in a corn-husk cravat jauntily tied in a four-in-hand, and his feet boasted a pair of ox-blood ties, though most people would have called them red ears of field corn.
“Hello, Pumpkin Man,” was Billy’s cordial and friendly greeting, for Billy felt he could claim acquaintanceship with anything and everything hailing from a farm.
The Pumpkin Man maintained a dignified silence and stared straight ahead.
“How-d’-ye-do, old fellow?” Billy repeated, edging a trifle closer, for so popular a man must be one whom it would pay to know most intimately.
The Pumpkin Man glowered at him—or so Billy thought.
“The impudent rascal! Most likely he wants to put on citified airs. I’ve heard of people who were ashamed to own that they hailed from the good old farm. The ninnies! What would all the city folks do without the farmer? Why, I think a man who can farm the way Mr. Treat does is one of the greatest men in all the land, and ought to be ranked with bank presidents, professors, judges, and so on. But if it is homage he wants, homage he shall have.”
“How do you do, Mr. Pumpkin Man?” Billy ventured the third time, now bowing low before him in a curtsey.
But not a sign of recognition lighted up the fellow’s face. He maintained that blank stare, which was most disconcerting to our Billy Whiskers.
“I shall make him pay dearly for insulting me so, and before all this crowd of watching, curious people, too.”
His wrath up, Billy charged, and hit the foe squarely in the stomach. Evidently one round was enough for the dignified Pumpkin Man, for over he tumbled, and what a fall it was!
Arms, legs, body went flying this way and that. It seemed he had no real backbone at all! His head rolled forward, his body back, and arms flew sidewise. Such a wobbly, make-believe man! Unfortunately, Billy’s horns caught the head as it fell, and hooked the ample, grinning, impudent mouth. Billy shook himself to free him of the burden, but that merely served to make the pumpkin head settle down more securely. There was a mighty, thundering roar of amusement from the spectators of this little comedy, and at the sound Billy, always over-sensitive to ridicule, turned with but one thought, and that was to escape from the scene of the encounter and his disgrace.
But no sooner did he wheel about than he saw all backs—not one person in the whole crowd was brave enough to face him, and they were making undue haste to fly from the building before the goat should take it into his fertile brain to charge them as he had the “punkin head.”
Those in the lead did not know what was the real trouble, for moment by moment they were joined by others from different parts of the hall. They only knew that there was a great press of people crowding toward the door, and supposing that something dreadful must be the cause, were excitedly pushing toward the exit. Frightened women, terrified children, and men in much the same state, it must be confessed, were in the throng, and there rose a perfect babel of cries:
“Fire! Fire!”
“No, no!” came the contradictory cry from someone who had retained a grain of common sense. “Just clear the room! No fire, just a goat!” but his voice was drowned in the uproar and shuffling of many eager feet.
Those on the outside, seeing unmistakable evidences of excitement, were just as anxious to gain entrance as those inside were to get out, such is the perverseness of the human family. The result was that neither could move, and there Billy was at the back, and good use did he make of the opportunity. He had more butting space offered, without any show of resistance, or offer of flight, than ever before in his career.
The farm lads who acted as guards stood bravely at their posts of duty, but this did not mean that they took no active part in the fray. No, indeed! Apples flew from all quarters of the room, and pears, too, hard as bullets, hit him in tender places.
Maddened by this, Billy butted the harder, but when he found there was no hope of opening a way to the outer world and freedom, he turned and faced his tormentors from the rear, and then there was wild scrambling. Many are those who are willing to pursue a fleeing foe, but few there be brave enough to prosecute the attack on an advancing enemy in such battle array as this Billy goat.
Dodging under the tables, they tried to crawl to safety, but Billy proved to be much more nimble on all fours than they, and swept up and down that hall, in and out, overturning tables, scattering the fruit, and punishing the boys, laying in ruin what was but a short hour before the admiration of the entire county.
By the time Billy had succeeded in putting to entire rout the attacking boys, the throng pressing the doorway had disappeared, and he made his way out without difficulty.
Heaving a sigh of relief, he delivered himself of this thought:
“If ever a goat was entitled to a good dinner, it is Billy Whiskers to-day. Yes, sir-ee!”