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diff --git a/old/1285-h/1285-h.htm b/old/1285-h/1285-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d570ac8 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/1285-h/1285-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2439 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + The Water Goats and Other Troubles, by Ellis Parker Butler + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Water Goats and Other Troubles, by +Ellis Parker Butler + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Water Goats and Other Troubles + +Author: Ellis Parker Butler + +Release Date: September 17, 2008 [EBook #1285] +Last Updated: March 11, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WATER GOATS AND OTHER TROUBLES *** + + + + +Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer, and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + THE WATER GOATS AND OTHER TROUBLES + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Ellis Parker Butler + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h4> + By The Same Author + </h4> + <h5> + Pigs is Pigs<br /><br /> The Great American Pie Company<br /><br /> Mike + Flannery On Duty and off<br /><br /> The Thin Santa Claus<br /><br /> That + Pup, Kilo, etc. + </h5> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + Contents + </h3> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>THE WATER GOATS AND OTHER TROUBLES</b> + </a> + </p> + <br /> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> I. THE WATER GOATS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> II. MR. BILLINGS'S POCKETS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> III. OUR FIRST BURGLAR </a> + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> +<p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + I. THE WATER GOATS + </h2> + <p> + “And then,” said the landscape gardener, combing his silky, pointed beard + gently with his long, artistic fingers, “in the lake you might have a + couple of gondolas. Two would be sufficient for a lake of this size; amply + sufficient. Yes,” he said firmly, “I would certainly advise gondolas. They + look well, and the children like to ride on them. And so do the adults. I + would have two gondolas in the lake.” + </p> + <p> + Mayor Dugan and the City Council, meeting as a committee of the whole to + receive the report of the landscape gardener and his plan for the new + public park, nodded their heads sagely. + </p> + <p> + “Sure!” said Mayor Dugan. “We want two of thim—of thim gon—thim + gon—” + </p> + <p> + “Gondolas,” said the landscape gardener. “Sure!” said Mayor Dugan, “we + want two of thim. Remimber th' gondolas, Toole.” + </p> + <p> + “I have thim fast in me mind,” said Toole. “I will not let thim git away, + Dugan.” + </p> + <p> + The landscape gardener stood a minute in deep thought, looking at the + ceiling. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that is all!” he said. “My report, and the plan, and what I have + mentioned, will be all you need.” + </p> + <p> + Then he shook hands with the mayor and with all the city councilmen and + left Jeffersonville forever, going back to New York where landscape + gardeners grow, and the doors were opened and the committee of the whole + became once more the regular meeting of the City Council. + </p> + <p> + The appropriation for the new park was rushed through in twenty minutes, + passing the second and third readings by the reading of the title under a + suspension of the by-laws, and being unanimously adopted. It was a matter + of life and death with Mayor Dugan and his ring. Jeffersonville was + getting tired of the joyful grafters, and murmurs of discontent were + concentrating into threats of a reform party to turn the cheerful rascals + out. The new park was to be a sop thrown to the populace—something + to make the city proud of itself and grateful to its mayor and council. It + was more than a pet scheme of Mayor Dugan, it was a lifeboat for the ring. + In half an hour the committees had been appointed, and the mayor turned to + the regular business. Then from his seat at the left of the last row + little Alderman Toole arose. + </p> + <p> + “Misther Mayor,” he said, “how about thim—thim don—thim don—Golas!” + whispered Alderman Grevemeyer hoarsely, “dongolas.” + </p> + <p> + “How about thim dongolas, Misther Mayor?” asked Alderman Toole. + </p> + <p> + “Sure!” said the mayor. “Will annyone move that we git two dongolas t' put + in th' lake for th' kids t' ride on? Will annyone move that Alderman Toole + be a conmittee of wan t' git two dongolas t' put in th' lake?” + </p> + <p> + “I make dot motions,” said Alderman Greveneyer, half raising his great + bulk from his seat and sinking back with a grunt. + </p> + <p> + “Sicond th' motion,” said Alderman Toole. + </p> + <p> + “Moved and siconded,” said the mayor, “that Alderman Toole be a committee + t' buy two dongolas t' put in th' lake for th' kids t' ride on. Ye have + heard th' motion.” + </p> + <p> + The motion was unanimously carried. That was the kind of City Council + Mayor Dugan had chosen. + </p> + <p> + When little Alderman Toole dropped into Casey's saloon that night on his + way home he did not slip meekly to the far end of the bar, as he usually + did. For the first time in his aldermanic career he had been put on a + committee where he would really have something to do, and he felt the + honour. He boldly took a place between the big mayor and Alderman + Grevemeyer, and said: “One of th' same, Casey,” with the air of a man who + has matters of importance on his mind. He felt that things were coming his + way. Even the big mayor seemed to appreciate it, for he put his hand + affectionately on Toole's shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Mike,” said the mayor, “about thim dongolas, now; have ye thought anny + about where ye would be gettin' thim?” + </p> + <p> + “I have not,” said Toole. “I was thinkin' 'twould be good t' think it over + a bit, Dugan. Mebby 'twould be best t' git thim at Chicagy.” He looked + anxiously at the mayor's face, hoping for some sign of approval or + disapproval, but the mayor's face was noncommittal. “But mebby it + wouldn't,” concluded Toole. As a feeler he added: “Would ye be wantin' me + t' have thim made here, Dugan?” + </p> + <p> + The big mayor patted Toole on the shoulder indulgently. + </p> + <p> + “It's up t' you, Mike,” he said. “Ye know th' way Dugan does things, an' + th' way he likes thim done. I trust thim that I kin trust, an' whin I put + a man on committee I'm done wid th' thing. Of coorse,” he added, putting + his mouth close to Toole's ear, and winking at Grevemeyer, “ye will see + that there is a rake-off for me an' th' byes.” + </p> + <p> + “Sure!” said Toole. + </p> + <p> + The big mayor turned back to the bar and took a drink from his glass. + Grevemeyer took a drink from his glass, also. So did Toole, gravely. Dugan + wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and turned to Toole again. + </p> + <p> + “Mike,” he said, “what do ye think? Mebby 'twould do as well t' git a + couple of sicond-hand dongolas an' have thim painted up. If they was in + purty good shape no wan would know th' difference, an' 'twould make a bit + more rake-off fer th' byes, mebby.” + </p> + <p> + “Th' same word was on th' ind o' me tongue, Dugan,” said Toole, nodding + his head slowly. “I was considerin' this very minute where I could lay me + hand on a couple of purty good dongolas that has not been used much. + Flannagan could paint thim up fine!” + </p> + <p> + “Or Stoltzenau could do such paintings,” interposed Grevemeyer. + </p> + <p> + “Sure!” agreed the big mayor. He toyed with his glass a moment. “Mike,” he + said suddenly, “what th' divil is a dongola, anyhow?” + </p> + <p> + Mike Toole was just raising his glass to his lips with the movements of + one accustomed to hold conversation with the mayor. His left hand rested + on his hip, with his arm akimbo, and his hat was tipped carelessly to the + back of his head. The hand raising his glass stopped short where it was + when he heard the mayor's question. He frowned at the glass—scowled + at it angrily. + </p> + <p> + “A dongola, Dugan”—he said slowly, and stopped. “A dongola”—he + repeated. “A dongola—did ye ask me what a dongola might be, Dugan?” + </p> + <p> + The big mayor nodded, and Grevemeyer leaned forward to catch the answer. + Casey, too, leaned on his bar and listened. Alderman Toole raised his + glass to his lips and filled his mouth with the liquor. Instantly he + dashed the glass furiously to the floor. He jerked off his hat and cast it + into a far corner and pulled off his coat, throwing it after his hat. He + was climbing on to the bar when the big mayor and Grevemeyer laid their + hands on the little man and held him tightly. The big mayor shook him once + and set him on the floor. + </p> + <p> + “Mike!” said the big mayor. “What's th' matter wid ye? What are ye goin' + afther Casey that way for? Is it crazy ye are? Or have ye gone insane?” + </p> + <p> + “Knock-out drops!” shouted Toole, shaking his fist at Casey, who looked + down at him in astonishment. “Knock-out drops! I will have th' law on ye, + Casey. I will have th' joint closed! I'll teach ye t' be givin' knock-out + drops t' th' aldermin of th' city!” + </p> + <p> + “Mike!” cried the big mayor, giving him another vigorous shake. “Shut up + wid ye! Casey wouldn't be givin' ye annything that wasn't good for ye. + Casey wouldn't be givin' ye knock-out drops.” + </p> + <p> + “No?” whispered Mike angrily. “No? Wouldn't he, Dugan? An' what has he + done t' me mimory, then, Dugan? What has he put in th' drink t' rob me of + me mimory? Wan minute ago I knew as well anny other man what a dongola is + like, an' now I have no mimory of anny dongolas at all. Wan minute ago I + could have told ye th' whole history of dongolas, from th' time of Adam up + till now, an' have drawed a picture of wan that annywan could recognize—an' + now I wouldn't know wan if ye was show it t' me! I was about t' tell ye + th' whole history of dongolas, Dugan; 'twas on th' ind of me tongue t' + give ye a talk on dongolas, whin I took a drink. Ye saw me take a drink, + Grevemeyer?” + </p> + <p> + “Ya!” said Grevemeyer, nodding his head solemnly. “You took such a drink!” + </p> + <p> + “Sure,” said Toole, arranging his vest. “Grevemeyer saw me take th' drink—an + now I have no mimory of dongolas at all. If ye was t' show me a chromo of + wan I wouldn't know was it a dongola or what. I'm ashamed of ye, Casey!” + </p> + <p> + “If ye done it, Casey, ye hadn't have ought t' have done it,” said Dugan + reprovingly. “Th' mind of him might be ruined intirely.” + </p> + <p> + “Stop, Dugan!” said Toole hastily. “I forgive him. Me mind will likely be + all right by mornin'. 'Tis purty good yit, ixcipt on th' subjict of + dongolas. I'm timporarily out of remimbrance what dongolas is. 'Tis odd + how thim knock-out drops works, Grevemeyer.” + </p> + <p> + “Ya!” said the alderman unsuspectingly, “gifing such a forgetfulness on + such easy things as dongolas.” + </p> + <p> + “Sure! You tell Dugan what dongolas is, Grevemeyer,” said Toole quickly. + </p> + <p> + Grevemeyer looked at his glass thoughtfully. His mind worked slowly + always, but he saw that it would not do for him to have knock-out drops so + soon after Toole. + </p> + <p> + “Ach!” he exclaimed angrily. “You are insulting to me mit such questions + Toole. So much will I tell you—never ask Germans what is dongolas. + It is not for Germans to talk about such things. Ask Casey.” + </p> + <p> + Casey scratched his head thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + “Dongolas?” he repeated. “I have heard th' word, Grevemeyer. Wait a bit! + 'Tis something about shoes. Sure! I remimber, now! 'Twas dongola shoes wan + of me kids had, last winter, an' no good they were, too. Dongolas is + shoes, Grevemeyer—laced shoes—dongolas is laced shoes.” + </p> + <p> + The big mayor leaned his head far back and laughed long and loud. He + pounded on the bar with his fist, and slapped Toole on the back. + </p> + <p> + “Laced shoes!” he cried, wiping his eyes, and then he became suddenly + serious. “'Twould not be shoes, Casey,” he said gravely. “Thim dongolas + was ricomminded by th' landscape-gardener from New Yorrk. 'Twould not be + sinsible t' ricommind us put a pair of laced shoes in th' park lake fer + th' kids t' ride on.” + </p> + <p> + “'Twould not seem so,” said Toole, shaking his head wisely. “I wisht me + mind was like it always is. 'Tis a pity—” + </p> + <p> + “Stop!” cried Casey. “I have it! Thim was kid shoes. Thim dongolas was kid + shoes.” + </p> + <p> + “So said, Casey,” said Duo'an “For th' kid.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Casey, “of th' kid.” + </p> + <p> + “Sure!” said Gravemeyer. “So it is—the shoes of the child.” + </p> + <p> + “Right fer ye!” exclaimed Casey. “Th' kid shoes of th' kid. 'Twas kid + leather they were made out of, Dugan. Th' dongola is some fancy kind of a + goat. Like box-calf is th' skin of th' calf of th' box-cow. Th' dongola is + some foreign kind of a goat, Dugan.” + </p> + <p> + “Ho, ho-o-o!” cried Toole, suddenly, knocking on his forehead with the + knuckles of his fist. The three men turned their eyes upon him and stared. + </p> + <p> + “What ails ye now, Mike?” asked Dugan, disgustedly. + </p> + <p> + “Ho-o-o!” he cried again, slapping himself on the top of his head. “Me + mind is comm' back t' me, Dugan! Th' effects of th' knock-out drops is + wearin' off! I recall now that th' dongola is some fancy kind of a goat. + 'Twill all come back t' me soon. + </p> + <p> + “Go along wid ye!” exclaimed Dugan. “Would ye be puttin' a goat in th' + lake for th' kids t' ride on?” + </p> + <p> + “Sure!” said Toole enthusiastically. “Sure I would, Dugan. Not th' common + goat I wouldn't. But dongola goats I would. Have ye heard of dongola water + goats, Casey? Was thim dongola goat skin shoes warranted t' be + water-proof?” + </p> + <p> + Casey wrinkled his brow. + </p> + <p> + “'Tis like they was, Toole,” he said doubtfully. “'Tis like they was + warranted t' be, but they wasn't.” + </p> + <p> + “Sure!” cried Toole joyously. “'Tis water-proof th' skin of th' dongola + water goats is, like th' skin of th' duck. An' swim? A duck isn't in it + wid a water goat. I remimber seein' thim in ould Ireland whin I was a bye, + Dugan, swimmin in th' lake of Killarney. Ah, 'twas a purty picture.” + </p> + <p> + “I seem t' remimber thim mesilf,” he said. “Not clear, but a bit.” + </p> + <p> + “Sure ye do!” cried Toole. “Many's the time I have rode across th' lake on + th' back of a dongola. Me own father, who was a big man in th' ould + country, used t' keep a pair of thim for us childer. 'Twas himself fetched + thim from Donnegal, Dugan. 'Twas from Donnegal they got th' name of thim, + an' 'twas th' name ye give thim that misled me. Donnegoras was what we + called thim in th' ould counry—donnegoras from Donnegal. I remimber + th' two of thim I had whin I was a kid, Dugan—wan was a Nanny, an' + wan was a Billy, an'—” + </p> + <p> + “Go on home, Mike,” said Dugan. “Go on home an' sleep it off!” and the + little alderman from the Fourth Ward picked up his hat and coat, and + obeyed his orders. + </p> + <p> + Instituting a new public park and seeing that in every purchase and every + contract there is a rake-off for the ring is a big job, and between this + and the fight against the rapidly increasing strength of the reform party, + Mayor Dugan had his hands more than full. He had no time to think of + dongolas, and he did not want to think of them—Toole was the + committee on dongolas, and it was his duty to think of them, and to worry + about them, if any worry was necessary. But Toole did not worry. He sat + down and wrote a letter to his cousin Dennis, official keeper of the zoo + in Idlewild Park at Franklin, Iowa. + </p> + <p> + “Dear Dennis,” he wrote. “Have you any dongola goats in your menagery for + I want two right away good strong ones answer right away your affectionate + cousin alderman Michael Toole.” + </p> + <p> + “Ps monny no object.” + </p> + <p> + When Dennis Toole received this letter he walked through his zoo and + considered his animals thoughtfully. The shop-worn brown bear would not do + to fill cousin Mike's order; neither would the weather-worn red deer nor + the family of variegated tame rabbits. The zoo of Idlewild Park at + Franklin was woefully short of dongola goats—in fact, to any but the + most imaginative and easily pleased child, it was lacking in nearly every + thing that makes a zoo a congress of the world's most rare and thrilling + creatures. After all, the nearest thing to a goat was a goat, and goats + were plenty in Franklin. Dennis felt an irresistible longing to aid Mike—the + longing that comes to any healthy man when a request is accompanied by the + legend “Money no object.” He wrote that evening to Mike. + </p> + <p> + “Dear Mike,” he wrote. “I've got two good strong dongola goats I can let + you have cheap. I'm overstocked with dongolas to-day. I want to get rid of + two. Zoo is getting too crowded with all kinds of animals and I don't need + so many dongola goats. I will sell you two for fifty dollars. Apiece. What + do you want them for? Your affectionate cousin, Dennis Toole, Zoo keeper. + PS. Crates extra.” + </p> + <p> + “Casey,” said Mike to his friend the saloon keeper when he received this + communication, “'tis just as I told ye—dongolas is goats. I have + been corrispondin' with wan of th' celibrated animal men regardin' th' + dongola water goat, an' I have me eye on two of thim this very minute. But + 'twill be ixpinsive, Casey, mighty ixpinsive. Th' dongola water goat is a + rare birrd, Casey. They have become extinct in th' lakes of Ireland, an' + what few of thim is left in th' worrld is held at outrajeous prices. In + th' letter I have from th' animal man, Casey, he wants two hundred dollars + apiece for each dongola water goat, an' 'twill be no easy thing for him t' + git thim.” + </p> + <p> + “Hasn't he thim in his shop, Mike?” asked Casey. + </p> + <p> + “He has not, Casey,” said the little alderman. “He has no place for thim. + Cages he has, an' globes for goldfish, an' birrd cages, but th' size of + th' shop l'aves no room for an aquarium, Casey. He has no tank for the + preservation of water goats. Hippopotamuses an' alligators an' crocodiles + an' dongola water goats an' sea lions he does not keep in stock, Casey, + but sinds out an' catches thim whin ordered. He writes that his agints has + their eyes on two fine dongolas, an' he has tiligraphed thim t' catch + thim.” + </p> + <p> + “Are they near by, Mike?” asked Casey, much interested. + </p> + <p> + “Naw,” said Toole. “'Twill be some time till I git thim. Th' last he heard + of thim they were swimmin' in th' Lake of Geneva.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it far, th' lake?” asked Casey. + </p> + <p> + “I disremimber how far,” said Toole. “'Tis in Africa or Asia, or mebby + 'tis in Constantinople. Wan of thim countries it is, annyhow.” + </p> + <p> + But to his cousin Dennis he wrote: + </p> + <p> + “Dear Dennis—I will take them two dongolas. Crate them good and + solid. Do not send them till I tell you. Send the bill to me. Your + affectionate cousin alderman Michael Toole. Ps Make bill for two hundred + dollars a piece. Business is business. This is between us two. M. T.” + </p> + <p> + A Keeper of the Water Goats had been selected with the utmost care, + combining in the choice practical politics with a sense of fitness. + Timothy Fagan was used to animals—for years he had driven a + dumpcart. He was used to children—he had ten or eleven of his own. + And he controlled several votes in the Fourth Ward. His elevation from the + dump-cart of the street cleaning department to the high office of Keeper + of the Water Goats was one that Dugan believed would give general + satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + When the goats arrived in Jeffersonville the two heavy crates were hauled + to Alderman Toole's back yard to await the opening of the park, and there + Mayor Dugan and Goat Keeper Fagan came to inspect them. Alderman Toole led + the way to them with pride, and Mayor Dugan's creased brow almost + uncreased as he bent down and peered between the bars of the crates. They + were fine goats. Perhaps they looked somewhat more dejected than a goat + usually looks—more dirty and down at the heels than a goat often + looks—but they were undoubtedly goats. As specimens of ordinary + Irish goats they might not have passed muster with a careful buyer, but no + doubt they were excellent examples of the dongola. + </p> + <p> + “Ye have done good, Mike,” said the mayor. “Ye have done good! But ain't + they mebby a bit off their feed—or something?” + </p> + <p> + “Off their feed!” said Toole. “An' who wouldn't be, poor things? Mind ye, + Dugan, thim is not common goats—thim is dongolas—an' used to + bein' in th' wather con-continuous from mornin' till night. 'Tis sufferin' + for a swim they be, poor animals. Wance let thim git in th' lake an' ye + will see th' difference, Dugan. 'Twill make all th' difference in th' + worrld t' thim. 'Tis dyin' for a swim they are.” + </p> + <p> + “Sure!” said the Keeper of the Water Goats. “Ye have done good, Mike,” + said the mayor again. “Thim dongolas will be a big surprise for th' + people.” + </p> + <p> + They were. They surprised the Keeper of the Goats first of all. The day + before the park was to be opened to the public the goats were taken to the + park and turned over to their official keeper. At eleven o'clock that + morning Alderman Toole was leaning against Casey's bar, confidentially + pouring into his ear the story of how the dongolas had given their captors + a world of trouble, swimming violently to the far reaches of Lake Geneva + and hiding among the bulrushes and reeds, when the swinging door of the + saloon was banged open and Tim Fagan rushed in. He was mad. He was very + mad, but he was a great deal wetter than mad. He looked as if he had been + soaked in water over night, and not wrung out in the morning. + </p> + <p> + “Mike!” he whispered hoarsely, grasping the little alderman by the arm. “I + want ye! I want ye down at th' park.” + </p> + <p> + A chill of fear passed over Alderman Toole. He turned his face to Fagan + and laid his hand on his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Tim,” he demanded, “has annything happened t' th' dongolas?” + </p> + <p> + “Is annything happened t' th' dongolas!” exclaimed Fagan sarcastically. + “Is annything wrong with thim water goats? Oh, no, Toole! Nawthin' has + gone wrong with thim! Only they won't go into th' wather, Mike! Is + annything gone wrong with thim, did ye say? Nawthin'! They be in good + health, but they are not crazy t' be swimmin'. Th' way they do not hanker + t' dash into th' water is marvellous, Mike. No water for thim!” + </p> + <p> + “Hist!” said Toole uneasily, glancing around to see that no one but Casey + was in hearing. “Mebby ye have not started thim right, Tim.” + </p> + <p> + “Mebby not,” said Fagan angrily. “Mebby I do not know how t' start th' + water goat, Toole! Mebby there is one way unbeknownst t' me. If so, I have + not tried it. But th' forty-sivin other ways I have tried, an' th' goats + will not swim. I have started thim backwards an' I have started thim + frontwards, an' I have took thim in by th' horns an' give thim lessons t' + swim, an' they will not swim! I have done me duty by thim, Mike, an' I + have wrastled with thim, an' rolled in th' lake with thim. Was it t' be + swimmin' teacher t' water goats ye got me this job for?” + </p> + <p> + “Hist!” said Toole again. “Not so loud, Tim! Ye haven't told Dugan have + ye?” + </p> + <p> + “I have not!” said Tim, with anger. “I have not told annybody annything + excipt thim goats an' what I told thim is not dacint hearin'. I have + conversed with thim in strong language, an' it done no good. No swimmin' + for thim! Come on down an' have a chat with thim yersilf, Toole. Come on + down an' argue with thim, an persuade thim with th' soft sound of yer + voice t' swim. Come on down an' git thim water goats used t' th' water.” + </p> + <p> + “Ye don't understand th' water goat, Tim,” said Toole in gentle reproof. + “I will show ye how t' handle him,” and he went out, followed by the wet + Keeper of the Water Goats. + </p> + <p> + The two water goats stood at the side of the lake, wet and mournful, tied + to two strong stakes. They looked weary and meek, for they had had a hard + morning, but as soon as they saw Tim Fagan they brightened up. They arose + simultaneously on their hind legs and their eyes glittered with deadly + hatred. They strained at their ropes, and then, suddenly, panic-stricken, + they turned and ran, bringing up at the ends of their ropes with a shock + that bent the stout stakes to which they were fastened. They stood still + and cowered, trembling. + </p> + <p> + “Lay hold!” commanded Toole. “Lay hold of a horn of th' brute till I show + ye how t' make him swim.” + </p> + <p> + Through the fresh gravel of the beach the four feet of the reluctant goat + ploughed deep furrows. It shook its head from side to side, but Toole and + Fagan held it fast, and into the water it went. + </p> + <p> + “Now!” cried Alderman Toole. “Git behind an' push, Tim! Wan! Two! Three! + Push!” + </p> + <p> + Alderman Toole released his hold and Keeper of the Water Goats Fagan + pushed. Then they tried the other goat. It was easier to try the other + water goat than to waste time hunting up the one they had just tried, for + it had gone away. As soon as Alderman Toole let it go, it went. It seemed + to want to get to the other end of the park as soon as possible, but it + did not take the short cut across the lake—it went around. But it + did not mind travel—it went to the farthest part of the park, and it + would have gone farther if it could. So Alderman Toole and Keeper Fagan + tried the other water goat. That one went straight to the other end of the + park. It swerved from a straight line but once, and that was when it shied + at a pail of water that was in the way. It did not seem to like water. + </p> + <p> + In the Franklin Zoo Dennis Toole had just removed the lid of his tin + lunch-pail when the telegraph boy handed him the yellow envelope. He + turned it over and over, studying its exterior, while the boy went to look + at the shop-worn brown bear. The zoo keeper decided that there was no way + to find out what was inside of the envelope but to open it. He was ready + for the worst. He wondered, unthinkingly, which one of his forty or more + cousins was dead, and opened the envelope. + </p> + <p> + “Dennis Toole, Franklin Zoo,” he read, “Dongolas won't swim. How do you + make them swim? Telegraph at once. Michael Toole.” + </p> + <p> + He laid the telegram across his knees and looked at it as if it was some + strange communication from another sphere. He pushed his hat to one side + of his head and scratched the tuft of red hair thus bared. + </p> + <p> + “'Dongolas won't swim!”' he repeated slowly. “An' how do I make thim swim? + I wonder does Cousin Mike take th' goat t' be a fish, or what? I wonder + does he take swimmin' to be wan of th' accomplishments of th' goat?” He + shook his head in puzzlement, and frowned at the telegram. “Would he be + havin' a goat regatta, I wonder, or was he expectin' th' goat t' be a + web-footed animal? 'Won't swim!' he repeated angrily. 'Won't swim!' An' + what is it to me if they won't swim? Nayther would I swim if I was a goat. + 'Tis none of me affair if they will not swim. There was nawthin' said + about 'swimmin' goats.' Goats I can give him, an' dongola goats I can give + him, an jumpin' goats, an' climbin' goats, an' walkin' goats, but 'tis not + in me line t'furnish submarine goats. No, nor goats t' fly up in th' air! + Would anny one,” he said with exasperation, “would anny one that got a + plain order for goats ixpict t' have t' furnish goats that would hop up + off th' earth an' make a balloon ascension? 'Tis no fault of Dennis + Toole's thim goats won't swim. What will Mike be telegraphin' me nixt, I + wonder? 'Dear Dennis: Th' goats won't lay eggs. How do ye make thim?' Bye, + have ye a piece of paper t' write an answer t' me cousin Mike on?” + </p> + <p> + The Keeper of the Water Goats and Alderman Toole were sitting on a rustic + bench looking sadly at the water goats when the Jeffersonville telegraph + messenger brought them Dennis Toole's answer. Alderman Toole grasped the + envelope eagerly and tore it open, and Fagan leaned over his shoulder as + he read it: + </p> + <p> + “Michael Toole, Alderman, Jeffersonville,” they read. “Put them in the + water and see if they will swim. Dennis Toole.” + </p> + <p> + “Put thim in th' wather!” exclaimed Alderman Toole angrily. “Why don't ye + put thim in th' wather, Fagan? Why did ye not think t' put thim in th' + wather?” He looked down at his soaking clothes, and his anger increased. + “Why have ye been tryin' t' make thim dongolas swim on land, Fagan?” he + asked sarcastically. “Or have ye been throwin' thim up in th' air t' see + thim swim? Why don't ye put thim in th' wather? Why don't ye follow th' + instructions of th' expert dongola water goat man an' put thim in th' + wather if ye want thim t' swim?” + </p> + <p> + Fagan looked at the angry alderman. He looked at the dripping goats. + </p> + <p> + “So I did, Mike,” he said seriously. “We both of us did.” + </p> + <p> + “An' did we!” cried Alderman Toole in mock surprise. “Is it possible we + thought t' put thim in th' wather whin we wanted thim t' swim? It was in + me mind that we tied thim to a tree an' played ring-around-a-rosy with + thim t' induce thim t' swim! Where's a pencil? Where's a piece of paper?” + he cried. + </p> + <p> + He jerked them from the hand of the messenger boy. The afternoon was half + worn away. Every minute was precious. He wrote hastily and handed the + message to the messenger boy. + </p> + <p> + “Fagan,” he said, as the boy disappeared down the path at a run, “raise up + yer spirits an come an' give th' water goats some more instructions in th' + ginteel art of swimmin' in th' wather.” + </p> + <p> + Fagan sighed and arose. He walked toward the dejected water goats, and, + taking the nearest one by the horns yanked it toward the lake. The goat + was too weak to do more than hold back feebly and bleat its disapproval of + another bath. The more lessons in swimming it received the less it seemed + to like to swim. It had developed a positive hatred of swimming. + </p> + <p> + Dennis Toole received the second telegram with a savage grin. He had + expected it. He opened it with malicious slowness. + </p> + <p> + “Dennis Toole, Franklin Zoo,” he read. “Where do you think I put them to + make them swim? They won't swim in the lake. It won't do no good to us for + them to swim on dry land. No fooling, now, how do you make them dongolas + swim? Answer quick. + </p> + <p> + “Michael Toole.” + </p> + <p> + He did not have to study out his reply, for he had been considering it + ever since he had sent the other telegram. He took a blank from the boy + and wrote the answer. The sun was setting when the Jeffersonville + messenger delivered it to Alderman Toole. + </p> + <p> + “Mike Toole, Jeffersonville,” it said. “Quit fooling, yourself. Don't you + know young dongolas are always water-shy at first? Tie them in the lake + and let them soak, and they will learn to swim fast enough. If I didn't + know any more about dongolas than you do I would keep clear of them. + Dennis Toole.” + </p> + <p> + “Listen to that now,” said Alderman Toole, a smile spreading over his + face. “An' who ever said I knew annything about water goats, anny how? Th' + natural history of th' water goat is not wan of the things usually + considered part of th' iducation of th' alderman from th' Fourth Ward, + Fagan, but 'tis surprised I am that ye did not know th' goat is like th' + soup bean, an' has t' be soaked before usin'. Th' Keeper of th' Water Goat + should know th' habits of th' animal, Fagan. Why did ye not put thim in to + soak in th' first place? I am surprised at ye!” + </p> + <p> + “It escaped me mind,” said Fagan. “I was thinkin' these was broke t' + swimmin' an' did not need t' be soaked. I wonder how long they should be + soaked, Mike?” + </p> + <p> + “'Twill do no harrm t' soak thim over night, anny how,” said Toole. “Over + night is th' usual soak given t' th' soup-bean an' th' salt mackerel, t' + say nawthin' of th' codfish an' others of th' water-goat family. Let th' + water goats soak over night, Fagan, an by mornin' they will be ready t' + swim like a trout. We will anchor thim in th' lake, Fagan—an' we + will say nawthin' t' Dugan. 'Twould be a blow t' Dugan was he t' learn th' + dongolas provided fer th' park was young an' wather-shy.” + </p> + <p> + They anchored the water goats firmly in the lake, and left them there to + overcome their shyness, which seemed, as Fagan and Toole left them, to be + as great as ever. The goats gazed sadly, and bleated longingly, after the + two men as they disappeared in the dusk, and when the men had passed + entirely out of sight, the goats looked at each other and complained + bitterly. + </p> + <p> + Alderman Toole thoughtfully changed his wet clothes for dry ones before he + went to Casey's that evening, for he thought Dugan might be there, and he + was. He was there when Toole arrived, and his brow was black. He had had a + bad day of it. Everything had gone wrong with him and his affairs. A large + lump of his adherents had sloughed off from his party and had affiliated + with his opponents, and the evening opposition paper had come out with a + red-hot article condemning the administration for reckless extravagance. + It had especially condemned Dugan for burdening the city with new bonds to + create an unneeded park, and the whole thing had ended with a screech of + ironic laughter over the—so the editor called it—fitting + capstone of the whole business, the purchase of two dongola goats at + perfectly extravagant prices. + </p> + <p> + “Mike,” said the big mayor severely, when the little alderman had offered + his greetings, “there is the divil an' all t' pay about thim dongolas. Th' + News is full of thim. 'Twill be th' ind of us all if they do not pan out + well. Have ye tried thim in th' water yet?” + </p> + <p> + “Sure!” exclaimed the little alderman with a heartiness he did not feel. + “What has me an' Fagan been doin' all day but tryin' thim? Have no fear of + th' wather goats, Dugan.” + </p> + <p> + “Do they swim well, Mike?” asked the big mayor kindly, but with a weary + heaviness he did not try to conceal. + </p> + <p> + “Swim!” exclaimed Toole. “Did ye say swim, Dugan? Swim is no name for th' + way they rip thro' the wather! 'Twas marvellous t' see thim. Ah, thim + dongolas is wonderful animals! Do ye think we could persuade thim t' come + out whin we wanted t' come home? Not thim, Dugan! 'Twas all me an' Fagan + could do t' pull thim out by main force, an' th' minute we let go of thim, + back they wint into th' wather. 'Twas pitiful t' hear th' way they bleated + t' be let back into th' wather agin, Dugan, so we let thim stay in for th' + night.” + </p> + <p> + “Ye did not let thim loose in th' lake, Mike?” exclaimed the big mayor. + “Ye did not let thim be so they could git away?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Toole. “No! They'll not git away, Dugan. We anchored thim + fast.” + </p> + <p> + “Ye done good, Mike,” said the big mayor. + </p> + <p> + The next morning Keeper of the Water Goats Fagan was down sufficiently + early to drag the bodies of the goats out of the lake long before even the + first citizen was admitted to the park. Alone, and hastily he hid them in + the little tool house, and locked the door on them. Then he went to find + Alderman Toole. He found him in the mayor's office, and beckoned him to + one side. In hot, quick accents he told him the untimely fate of the + dongola water goats, and the mayor—with an eye for everything on + that important day—saw the red face of Alderman Toole grow longer + and redder; saw the look of pain and horror that overspread it. A chilling + fear gripped his own heart. + </p> + <p> + “Mike,” he said. “What's th' matter with th' dongolas?” + </p> + <p> + It was Fagan who spoke, while the little alderman from the Fourth Ward + stood bereft of speech in this awful moment. + </p> + <p> + “Dugan,” he said, “I have not had much ixperience with th' dongola wather + goat, an' th' ways an' habits of thim is strange t' me, but if I was t' + say what I think, I would say they was over-soaked.” + </p> + <p> + “Over-soaked, Fagan?” said the mayor crossly. “Talk sense, will ye?” + </p> + <p> + “Sure!” said Fagan. “An' over-soaked is what I say. Thim water goats has + all th' looks of bein' soaked too long. I would not say positive, Yer + Honour, but that is th' looks of thim. If me own mother was t' ask me I + would say th' same, Dugan. 'Soakin' too long done it,' is what I would + say.” + </p> + <p> + “You are a fool, Fagan!” exclaimed the big mayor. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Fagan mildly, “I have not had much ixperience in soakin' + dongolas, if ye mean that, Dugan. I do not set up t' be an expert dongola + soaker. I do not know th' rules t' go by. Some may like thim soaked long + an' some may like thim soaked not so long, but if I was to say, I would + say thim two dongolas at th' park has been soaked a dang sight too long. + Th' swim has been soaked clean out of thim.” + </p> + <p> + “Are they sick?” asked the big mayor. “What is th' matter with thim?” + </p> + <p> + “They do look sick,” agreed Fagan, breaking the bad news gently. “I should + say they look mighty sick, Dugan. If they looked anny sicker, I would be + afther lookin' for a place t' bury thim in. An' I am lookin' for th' place + now.” + </p> + <p> + As the truth dawned on the mind of the big mayor, he lost his firm look + and sank into a chair. This was the last brick pulled from under his + structure of hopes. His head sank upon his breast and for many minutes he + was silent, while his aides stood abashed and ill at ease. At last he + raised his head and stared at Toole, more in sorrow than in resentfulness. + </p> + <p> + “Mike,” he said, “Mike Toole! What in th' worrld made ye soak thim + dongolas?” + </p> + <p> + “Dugan,” pleaded Toole, laying his hand on the big mayor's arm. “Dugan, + old man, don't look at me that way. There was nawthin' else t' do but soak + thim dongolas. Many's th' time I have seen me old father soakin' th' young + dongolas t' limber thim up for swimmin'. 'If iver ye have to do with + dongolas, Mike,' he used t' say t' me, 'soak thim well firrst.' So I + soaked thim, an' 'tis none of me fault, nor Fagan's either, that they + soaked full o' wather. First-class dongolas is wather-proof, as iveryone + knows, Dugan, an' how was we t' know thim two was not? How was me an' + Fagan t' know their skins would soak in wather like a pillow case? Small + blame to us, Dugan.” + </p> + <p> + The big mayor took his head between his hands and stared moodily at the + floor. + </p> + <p> + “Go awn away!” he said after a while. “Ye have done for me an' th' byes, + Toole. Ye have soaked us out of office, wan an' all of us. I want t' be + alone. It is all over with us. Go awn away.” + </p> + <p> + Toole and the Keeper of the Water Goats stole silently from the room and + out into the street. Fagan was the first to speak. + </p> + <p> + “How was we t' know thim dongolas would soak in wather that way, Toole?” + he said defensively. “How was we t' know they was not th' wather-proof + kind of dongolas?” + </p> + <p> + The little alderman from the Fourth Ward walked silently by the Keeper's + side. His head was downcast and his hands were clasped beneath the tails + of his coat. Suddenly he looked Fagan full in the face. + </p> + <p> + “'Twas our fault, Fagan,” he said. “'Twas all our fault. If we didn't know + thim dongolas was wather-proof we should have varnished thim before we put + thim in th' lake t' soak. I don't blame you, Fagan, for ye did not know + anny better, but I blame mesilf. For I call t' mind now that me father + always varnished th' dongolas before he soaked thim overnight. 'Take no + chances, Mike,' he used t' say t' me, 'always varnish thim firrst. Some of + thim is rubbery an' will not soak up wather, but some is spongy, an' 'tis + best t' varnish one an' all of thim.”' + </p> + <p> + “Think of that now!” exclaimed Fagan with admiration. “Sure, but this + natural history is a wonderful science, Toole! To think that thim animals + was th' spongyhided dongola water goats of foreign lands, an' used t' + bein' varnished before each an' every bath! An' t' me they looked no + different from th' goats of me byehood! I was never cut out for a goat + keeper, Mike. An' me job on th' dump-cart is gone, too. 'Twill be hard + times for Fagan.” + </p> + <p> + “'Twill be hard times for Toole, too,” said the little alderman, and they + walked on without speaking until Fagan reached his gate. + </p> + <p> + “Well, anny how,” he said with cheerful philosophy, “'tis better t' be us + than to be thim dongola water goats—dead or alive. 'Tis not too + often I take a bath, Mike, but if I was wan of thim spongy-hided dongolas + an' had t' be varnished each time I got in me bath tub, I would stop + bathin' for good an' all.” + </p> + <p> + He looked toward the house. + </p> + <p> + “I'll not worry,” he said. “Maggie will be sad t' hear th' job is gone, + but she would have took it harder t' know her Tim was wastin' his time + varnishin' th' slab side of a spongy goat.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II. MR. BILLINGS'S POCKETS + </h2> + <p> + On the sixteenth of June Mr. Rollin Billings entered his home at Westcote + very much later than usual, and stealing upstairs, like a thief in the + night, he undressed and dropped into bed. In two minutes he was asleep, + and it was no wonder, for by that time it was five minutes after three in + the morning, and Mr. Billings's usual bedtime was ten o'clock. Even when + he was delayed at his office he made it an invariable rule to catch the + nine o'clock train home. + </p> + <p> + When Mrs. Billings awoke the next—or, rather, that same—morning, + she gazed a minute at the thin, innocent face of her husband, and was in + the satisfied frame of mind that takes an unexpected train delay as a + legitimate excuse, when she happened to cast her eyes upon Mr. Billings's + coat, which was thrown carelessly over the foot of the bed. Protruding + from one of the side pockets was a patent nursing-bottle, half full of + milk. Instantly Mrs. Billings was out of bed and searching Mr. Billings's + other pockets. To her horror her search was fruitful. + </p> + <p> + In a vest pocket she found three false curls, or puffs of hair, such as + ladies are wearing to-day to increase the abundance of their own, and + these curls were of a rich brownish red. Finally, when she dived into his + trousers pocket, she found twelve acorns carefully wrapped in a lady's + handkerchief, with the initials “T. M. C.” embroidered in one corner. + </p> + <p> + All these Mrs. Billings hid carefully in her upper bureau drawer and + proceeded to dress. When at length she awakened Mr. Billings, he yawned, + stretched, and then, realizing that getting-up time had arrived, hopped + briskly out of bed. + </p> + <p> + “You got in late last night,” said Mrs. Billings pleasantly. + </p> + <p> + If she had expected Mr. Billings to cringe and cower she was mistaken. He + continued to dress, quite in his usual manner, as if he had a clear + conscience. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed I did, Mary,” he said. “It was three when I entered the house, for + the clock was just striking.” + </p> + <p> + “Something must have delayed you,” suggested Mrs. Billings. + </p> + <p> + “Otherwise, dear,” said Mr. Billings, “I should have been home much + sooner. + </p> + <p> + “Probably,” said Mrs. Billings, suddenly assuming her most sarcastic tone, + as she reached into her bureau drawer and drew out the patent + nursing-bottle, “this had something to do with your being delayed!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Billings looked at the nursing-bottle, and then he drew out his watch + and looked at that. + </p> + <p> + “My dear,” he said, “you are right. It did. But I now have just time to + gulp down my coffee and catch my train. To-night, when I return from town, + I will tell you the most remarkable story of that nursing-bottle, and how + it happened to be in my pocket, and in the mean time I beg you—I + most sincerely beg you—to feel no uneasiness.” + </p> + <p> + With this he hurried out of the room, and a few moments later his wife saw + him running for his train. + </p> + <p> + All day Mrs. Billings was prey to the most disturbing thoughts, and as + soon as dinner was finished that evening she led the way into the library. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Rollin?” she said, and without hesitation Mr. Billings began. + </p> + <p> + I. THE PATENT NURSING-BOTTLE + </p> + <p> + You have (he said), I know, met Lemuel, the coloured elevator boy in our + office building, and you know what a pleasant, accommodating lad he is. He + is the sort of boy for whom one would gladly do a favour, for he is always + so willing to do favours for others, but I was thinking nothing of this + when I stepped from my office at exactly five o'clock yesterday evening. I + was thinking of nothing but getting home to dinner as soon as possible, + and was just stepping into the elevator when Lemuel laid his hand gently + on my arm. + </p> + <p> + “I beg yo' pahdon, Mistah Billings,” he said politely, “but would yo' do + me a favour?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, Lemuel,” I said; “how much can I lend you?” + </p> + <p> + “'Tain't that, sah,” he said. “I wish t' have a word or two in private + with yo'. Would yo' mind steppin' back into yo' office until I git these + folks out of th' buildin', so's I can speak to yo'?” + </p> + <p> + I knew I had still half an hour before my six-two train, and I was not + unwilling to do Lemuel a favour, so I went back to my office as he + desired, and waited there until he appeared, which was not until he had + taken all the tenants down in his elevator. Then he opened the door and + came in. With him was the young man I had often seen in the office next to + mine, as I passed, and a young woman on whom I had never set my eyes + before. No sooner had they opened the door than the young man began to + speak, and Lemuel stood unobtrusively to one side. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Billings,” said the young man, “you may think it strange that I + should come to you in this way when you and I are hardly acquaintances, + but I have often observed you passing my door, and have noted your + kind-looking face, and the moment I found this trouble upon me I instantly + thought of you as the one man who would be likely to help me out of my + difficulty.” + </p> + <p> + While he said this I had time to study his face, and also to glance at the + young woman, and I saw that he must, indeed, be in great trouble. I also + saw that the young woman was pretty and modest and that she, also, was in + great distress. I at once agreed to help him, provided I should not be + made to miss the six-thirty train, for I saw I was already too late for + the six-two. + </p> + <p> + “Good!” he cried. “For several years Madge—who is this young lady—and + I have been in love, and we wish to be married this evening, but her + father and my father are waiting at the foot of the elevator at this + minute, and they have been waiting there all day. There is no other way + for us to leave the building, for the foot of the stairs is also the foot + of the elevator, and, in fact, when I last peeped, Madge's father was + sitting on the bottom step. It is now exactly fifteen minutes of six, and + at six o'clock they mean to come up and tear Madge and me away, and have + us married.” + </p> + <p> + “To—” I began. + </p> + <p> + “To each other,” said the young man with emotion. + </p> + <p> + “But I thought that was what you wanted?” I exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Not at all! Not at all!” said the young man, and the young woman added + her voice in protest, too. “I am the head of the Statistical Department of + the Society for the Obtaining of a Uniform National Divorce Law, and the + work in that department has convinced me beyond a doubt that forced + marriages always end unhappily. In eighty-seven thousand six hundred and + four cases of forced marriages that I have tabulated I have found that + eighty-seven thousand six hundred and three have been unhappy. In the face + of such statistics Madge and I dare not allow ourselves to be married + against our wills. We insist on marrying voluntarily.” + </p> + <p> + “That could be easily arranged,” I ventured to say, “in view of the fact + that both your fathers wish you to be married.” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all,” said Madge, with more independence than I had thought her + capable of; “because my father and Henry's father are gentlemen of the old + school. I would not say anything against either father, for in ordinary + affairs I they are two most suave and charming old gentlemen, but in this + they hold to the old-school idea that children should allow their parents + to select their life-partners, and they insist that Henry and I allow + ourselves to be forced to marry each other. And that, in spite of the + statistics Henry has shown them. Our whole happiness depends on our + getting out of this building before they can come up and get us. That is + why we appeal to you.” + </p> + <p> + “If you still hesitate, after what Madge has said,” said Henry, pulling a + large roll of paper out of his pocket, “here are the statistics.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” I said, “I will help you, if I can do so and not miss the + six-thirty train. What is your plan?” + </p> + <p> + “It is very simple,” said Henry. “Our fathers are both quite near-sighted, + and as six o'clock draws near they will naturally become greatly excited + and nervous, and, therefore, less observant of small things. I have + brought with me some burnt cork with which I will blacken my face, and I + will change clothes with Lemuel, and, in the one moment necessary to + escape, my father will not recognize me. Lemuel, on the other hand, will + whiten his face with some powder that Madge has brought, and will wear my + clothes, and in the excitement my father will seize him instead of me.” + </p> + <p> + “Excellent,” I said, “but what part do I play in this?” + </p> + <p> + “This part,” said Henry, “you will wear, over your street clothes, a gown + that Madge has brought in her suit-case and a hat that she has also + brought, both of which her father will easily recognize, while Madge will + redden her face with rouge, muss her hair, don a torn, calico dress, and + with a scrub-rag and a mop in her hands easily pass for a scrub-woman. + </p> + <p> + “And then?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Then you and Lemuel will steal cautiously down the stairs, as if you were + Madge and I seeking to escape, while Madge and I, as Lemuel and the + scrub-woman, will go down by the elevator. My father and Madge's father + will seize you and Lemuel—” + </p> + <p> + “And I shall appear like a fool when they discover I am a respectable + business man rigged up in woman's clothes,” I said. + </p> + <p> + “Not at all,” said Madge, “for Henry and I have thought of that. You must + play your part until you see that henry and I have escaped from the + elevator and have left the building, and that is all. I have had the + forethought to prepare an alibi for you. As soon as you see that Henry and + I are safe outside the building, you must become very indignant, and + insist that you are a respectable married woman, and in proof you must + hand my father the contents of this package. He will be convinced + immediately and let you go, and then Lemuel can run you up to your office + and you can take off my dress and hat and catch the six-thirty train + without trouble.” She then handed me a small parcel, which I slipped into + my coat pocket. + </p> + <p> + When this had been agreed upon she and Henry left the office and I took + the hat and dress from the suit-case and put them on, while Lemuel put on + Henry's suit and whitened his face. This took but a few minutes, and we + went into the hall and found Henry and Madge already waiting for us. Henry + was blackened into a good likeness of Lemuel, and Madge was quite a mussy + scrub-woman. They immediately entered the elevator and began to descend + slowly, while Lemuel and I crept down the stairs. + </p> + <p> + Lemuel and I kept as nearly as possible opposite the elevator, so that we + might arrive at the foot of the stairs but a moment before Madge and + Henry, and we could hear the two fathers shuffling on the street floor, + when suddenly, as we reached the third floor, we heard a whisper from + Henry in the elevator. The elevator had stuck fast between the third and + fourth floors. As with one mind, Lemuel and I seated ourselves on a step + and waited until Henry should get the elevator running again and could + proceed to the street floor. + </p> + <p> + For a while we could hear no noise but the grating of metal on metal as + Henry worked with the starting lever of the elevator, and then we heard + the two voices of the fathers. + </p> + <p> + “It is a ruse,” said one father. “They are pretending the elevator is + stuck, and when we grow impatient and start up the stairs they will come + down with a rush and escape us.” + </p> + <p> + “But we are not so silly as that,” said the other father. “We will stay + right here and wait until they come down.” + </p> + <p> + At that Lemuel and I settled ourselves more comfortably, for there was + nothing else to do. I cursed inwardly as I felt the minutes slip by and + knew that half-past six had come and gone, but I was sure you would not + like to have me desert those two poor lovers who were fighting to ward off + the statistics, so I sat still and silent. So did Lemuel. + </p> + <p> + I do not know how long I sat there, for it was already dark in the narrow + stairway, but it must have been a long time. I drowsed off, and I was + finally awakened by Lemuel tugging at my sleeve, and I knew that Henry had + managed to start the elevator again. Lemuel and I hastened our steps, and + just as the elevator was coming into sight below the second floor we were + seen by the two fathers. For an instant they hesitated, and then they + seized us. At the same time the elevator door opened and Henry and Madge + came out, and the two fathers hardly glanced at them as they went out of + the door into the street. + </p> + <p> + As soon as I saw that they were safe I feigned great indignation, and so + did Lemuel. + </p> + <p> + “Unhand me, sir!” I cried. “Who do you think I am? I am a respectable + married lady, leaving the building with her husband. Unhand me!” + </p> + <p> + Instead of doing so, however, the father that had me by the arm drew me + nearer to the hall light. As he did so he stared closely at my face. + </p> + <p> + “Morgan,” he said to the other father, “this is not my daughter. My + daughter did not have a moustache.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, I am not your daughter,” I said; “I am a respectable married + lady, and here is the proof.” + </p> + <p> + With that I reached for the package Madge had given me, but it was in my + coat-pocket, underneath the dress I had on, and it was only with great + difficulty and by raising one side of the skirt that I was able to get it. + I unwrapped it and showed it to the father that had me by the arm. It was + the patent nursing-bottle. + </p> + <p> + When Mr. Billings had finished his relation his wife sat for a moment in + silence. Then she said: + </p> + <p> + “And he let you go?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, of course,” said Mr. Billings; “he could not hold me after such + proof as that, and Lemuel ran me up to my office, where I changed my hat + and took off the dress. I knew it was late, and I did not know what train + I could catch, but I made haste, and, on the way down in the elevator, I + felt in my pocket to see if I had my commutation ticket, when my hand + struck the patent nursing-bottle. My first impulse was to drop it in the + car, but on second thought I decided to keep it, for I knew that when you + saw it and heard the story you would understand perfectly why I was + detained last night.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” said Mrs. Billings questioningly. “But, my dear, all that does not + account for these.” + </p> + <p> + As she said that she drew from her workbasket the three auburn-red curls. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, those!” said Mr. Billings, after a momentary hesitation. “I was about + to tell you about those.” + </p> + <p> + “Do so!” said Mrs. Billings coldly. “I am listening.” + </p> + <p> + II. THE THREE AUBURN-RED CURLS + </p> + <p> + When I went down in the elevator (said Mr. Billings) with the + nursing-bottle in my pocket, I had no thought but to get to the train as + soon as possible, for I saw by the clock in my office that I had just time + to catch the eleven-nine if I should not be delayed. Therefore, as soon as + I was outside the building I started to run, but when I reached the corner + and was just about to step on a passing street-car a hand was laid on my + arm, and I turned to see who was seeking to detain me. It was a woman in + the most pitiable rags, and on her arm she carried a baby so thin and pale + that I could scarcely believe it lived. + </p> + <p> + One glance at the child showed me that it was on the verge of death by + starvation, and this was confirmed by the moans of the mother, who begged + me for humanity's sake to give her money with which to provide food for + the child, even though I let her, herself, starve. You know, my dear, you + never allow me to give money to street beggars, and I remembered this, but + at the same time I remembered the patent nursing-bottle I still carried in + my pocket. + </p> + <p> + Without hesitation I drew the patent nursing-bottle from my pocket and + told the mother to allow the infant to have a sufficient quantity of milk + it contained to sustain the child's life until she could procure other + alms or other aid. With a cry of joy the mother took the nursing-bottle + and pressed it to the poor baby's lips, and it was with great pleasure I + saw the rosy colour return to the child's cheeks. The sadness of despair + that had shadowed the mother's face also fled, and I could see that + already she was looking on life with a more optimistic view. + </p> + <p> + I verily believe the child could have absorbed the entire contents of the + bottle, but I had impressed upon the mother that she was to give the child + only sufficient to sustain life, not to suffice it until it was grown to + manhood or womanhood, and when the bottle was half-emptied the mother + returned it to me. How much time all this occupied I do not know, but the + child took the milk with extreme slowness. I may say that it took the milk + drop by drop. A great deal of time must have elapsed. + </p> + <p> + But when the mother had returned the patent nursing-bottle to me and saw + how impatient I was to be gone, she still retained her hold upon my arm. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” she said, “you have undoubtedly saved the life of my child, and I + only regret that I cannot repay you for all it means to me. But I cannot. + Stay!” she cried, when I was about to pull my arm away. “Has your wife + auburn-red hair?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” I said, “she has not, her hair is a most beautiful black.” + </p> + <p> + “No matter,” said the poor woman, putting her hand to her head. “Some day + she may wish to change the colour of her hair to auburn-red, which is + easily done with a little bleach and a little dye, and should she do so + these may come handy;” and with that she slipped something soft and fluffy + into my hand and fled into the night. When I looked, I saw in my hand the + very curls you hold there. My first impulse was to drop them in the + street, but I remembered that the poor woman had not given them to me, but + to you, and that it was my duty to bring them home to you, so I slipped + them into my pocket. + </p> + <p> + When Mr. Billings had ended this recital of what had happened to him his + wife said: + </p> + <p> + “Huh!” + </p> + <p> + At the same time she tossed the curls into the grate, where they + shrivelled up, burst into blue smoke, and shortly disappeared in ashes. + </p> + <p> + “That is a very likely story,” she said, “but it does not explain how this + came to be in your pocket.” + </p> + <p> + Saying this she drew from her basket the handkerchief and handed it to Mr. + Billings. + </p> + <p> + “Hah!” he exclaimed. For a moment he turned the rolled-up handkerchief + over and over, and then he cautiously opened it. At the sight of the + twelve acorns he seemed somewhat surprised, and when the initials “T. M. + C.” on the corner of the handkerchief caught his eye he blushed. + </p> + <p> + “You are blushing—you are disturbed,” said Mrs. Billings severely. + </p> + <p> + “I am,” said Mr. Billings, suddenly recovering himself; “and no wonder.” + </p> + <p> + “And no wonder, indeed!” said Mrs Billings. “Perhaps, then, you can tell + me how those acorns and that handkerchief came to be in your pocket.” + </p> + <p> + “I can,” said Mr. Billings, “and I will.” + </p> + <p> + “You had better,” said Mrs. Billings. + </p> + <p> + III. THE TWELVE ACORNS AND THE LADY'S HANDKERCHIEF + </p> + <p> + You may have noticed, my dear (said Mr. Billings), that the initials on + that handkerchief are “T. M. C.,” and I wish you to keep that in mind, for + it has a great deal to do with this story. Had they been anything else + that handkerchief would not have found its way into my pocket; and when + you see how those acorns and that handkerchief, and the half-filled + nursing-bottle and the auburn-red curls all combined to keep me out of my + home until the unearthly hour of three A. M., you will forget the unjust + suspicions which I too sadly fear you now hold against me, and you will + admit that a half-filled patent nursing-bottle, a trio of curls, a lady's + handkerchief and twelve acorns were the most natural things in the world + to find in my pockets. + </p> + <p> + When I had left the poor woman with her no-longer-starving baby I + hurriedly glanced into a store window, and by the clock there saw it was + twenty minutes of one and that I had exactly time to catch the one o'clock + train, which is the last train that runs to Westcote. I glanced up and + down the street, but not a car was in sight, and I knew I could not afford + to wait long if I wished to catch that train. There was but one thing to + do, and that was to take a cab, and, as luck would have it, at that moment + an automobile cab came rapidly around the corner. I raised my voice and my + arm, and the driver saw or heard me, for he made a quick turn in the + street and drew up at the curb beside me. I hastily gave him the + directions, jumped in and slammed the door shut, and the auto-cab + immediately started forward at what seemed to me unsafe speed. + </p> + <p> + We had not gone far when something in the fore part of the automobile + began to thump in a most alarming manner, and the driver slackened his + speed, drew up to the curb and stopped. He opened the door and put his + head in. + </p> + <p> + “Something's gone wrong,” he said, “but don't you worry. I'll have it + fixed in no time, and then I can put on more speed and I'll get you there + in just the same time as if nothing had happened.” + </p> + <p> + When he said this I was perfectly satisfied, for he was a nice-looking + man, and I lay back, for I was quite tired out, it was so long past my + usual bedtime; and the driver went to work, doing things I could not + understand to the fore part of the automobile, where the machinery is. I + remember thinking that the cushions of this automobile were unusually + soft, and then I must have dozed off, and when I opened my eyes I did not + know how much time had elapsed, but the driver was still at work and I + could hear him swearing. He seemed to be having a great deal of trouble, + so I got out of the automobile, intending to tell him that perhaps I had + better try to get a car, after all. But his actions when he saw me were + most unexpected. He waved the wrench he held in his hand, and ordered me + to get back into the automobile, and I did. I supposed he was afraid he + would lose his fare and tip, but in a few minutes he opened the door again + and spoke to me. + </p> + <p> + “Now, sport,” he said, “there ain't no use thinkin' about gettin' that + train, because it's gone, and I may as well say now that you've got to + come with me, unless you want me to smash your head in. The fact is, this + ain't no public automobile, and I hadn't no right to take you for a + passenger. This automobile belongs to a lady and I'm her hired chauffeur, + and she's at a bridge-whist party in a house on Fifth Avenue, and I'm + supposed to be waiting outside that house. One-fifteen o'clock was the + time she said she would be out. But I thought maybe I might make a dollar + or two for myself instead of waiting there all that time, and she would + never know it. And now it is nearly two o'clock, and if I go back alone + she will be raving mad, and I'll get my discharge and no references, and + my poor wife and six children will have to starve. So you will have to go + with me and explain how it was that I wasn't there at one-fifteen + o'clock.” + </p> + <p> + “My friend,” I said, “I am sorry for you, but I do not see how it would + help you, should I refuse to go and you should, as you say, smash my head + in.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you worry none about that,” he said. “If I smashed your head in, as + I could do easy enough with this wrench, I'd take what was left of you up + some dark street, and lay you on the pavement and run the machine across + you once or twice, and then take you to a hospital, and that would be + excuse enough. You'd be another 'Killed by an Automobile,' and I'd be the + hero that picked you up and took you to the hospital.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” I said, “under the circumstances I shall go with you, not because + you threaten me, but because your poor wife and six children are + threatened with starvation.” + </p> + <p> + “Good!” he said. “And now all you have to do is to think of what the + excuse you will give my lady boss will be.” + </p> + <p> + With that he lay back against the cushions and waited. He seemed to feel + that the matter did not concern him any more, and that the rest of it lay + with me. + </p> + <p> + “Go ahead!” I said to him. “I have no idea what I shall tell your + mistress, but since I have lost the last train I must try to catch the two + o'clock trolley car to Westeote, and I do not wish to spend any more time + than necessary on this business. Make all the haste possible, and as we go + I shall think what I will say when we get there.” + </p> + <p> + The driver got out and took his seat and started the car. I was worried, + indeed, my dear. I tried to think of something plausible to tell the young + man's employer; something that would have an air of self-proof, when + suddenly I remembered the half-filled nursing-bottle and the three + auburn-red curls. Why should I not tell the lady that a poor mother, while + proceeding down Fifth Avenue from her scrub-woman job, had been taken + suddenly ill, and that I, being near, had insisted that this automobile + help me convey the woman to her home, which we found, alas! to be in the + farthest districts of Brooklyn? Then I would produce the three auburn-red + curls and the half-filled nursing-bottle as having been left in the + automobile by the woman, and this proof would suffice. + </p> + <p> + I had fully decided on this when the automobile stopped in front of a + large house in Fifth Avenue, and I had time to tell the driver that I had + thought of the proper thing to say, but that was all, for the waiting lady + came down the steps in great anger, and was about to begin a good + scolding, when she noticed me sitting in her automobile. + </p> + <p> + If she had been angry before she was now furious, and she was the kind of + young woman who can be extremely furious when she tries. I think nothing + in the world could have calmed her had she not caught sight of my face by + the light of two strong lamps on a passing automobile. She saw in my face + what you see there now, my dear—the benevolent, fatherly face of a + settled-down, trustworthy, married man of past middle age—and as if + by magic her anger fled and she burst into tears. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, sir!” she cried, “I do not know who you are, nor how you happen to be + in my car, but at this moment I am homeless and friendless. I am alone in + the world, and I need advice. Let me get into the car beside you—” + </p> + <p> + “Miss,” I said, “I do not like to disoblige you, but I can never allow + myself to be in an automobile at this time of night with a strange woman, + unchaperoned.” + </p> + <p> + These words seemed almost more than she could bear, and my heart was full + of pity, but, just as I was about to spring from the automobile and rush + away, I saw on the walk the poor woman to whose baby I had given the half + of the contents of the patent nursing-bottle. I called her and made her + get into the automobile, and then I let the young woman enter. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” I said, “where to?” + </p> + <p> + “That,” she said, “is what I do not know. When I left my home this evening + I left it forever, and I left a note of farewell to my father, which he + must have received and read by this time, and if I went back he would turn + me from the door in anger, for he is a gentleman of the old school.” + </p> + <p> + When I heard these words I was startled. “Can it be,” I asked, “that you + have a brother henry?” + </p> + <p> + “I have,” she admitted; “Henry Corwin is his name.” This was the name of + the young man I had helped that very evening to marry Madge. I told her to + proceed. + </p> + <p> + “My father,” she said, “has been insisting that I marry a man I do not + love, and things have come to such a point that I must either accede or + take things into my own hands. I agreed to elope this evening with the man + I love, for he had long wished me to elope with him. I was to meet him + outside his house at exactly one-fifteen o'clock, and I told him that if I + was not there promptly he might know I had changed my mind. When the time + came for me to hasten to him in my automobile, which was then to hurry us + to a waiting minister, my automobile was not here. Unfortunately I did not + know my lover's address, for I had left it in the card pocket in this + automobile. I knew not what to do. As the time passed and my automobile + did not appear I knew that my lover had decided that I was not coming, and + had gone away into his house. Now I cannot go home, for I have no home. I + cannot so lower my pride as to ring the bell of his house and say I wish + to be forgiven and married even yet. What shall I do?” + </p> + <p> + For answer I felt in the card pocket of the automobile and drew out the + address of her lover, and without hesitation I gave the address to the + chauffeur. In a few minutes we were there. Leaving the young woman in the + car with the poor woman, I got out and surveyed the house. It was + unpromising. Evidently all the family but the young man were away for the + summer, and the doors and windows were all boarded up. There was not a + bell to ring. I pounded on the boards that covered the door, but it was + unavailing. The young woman called to me that the young man lived in the + front room of the topmost floor, and could not hear me, and I glanced up + and saw that one window alone of all those in the house was not boarded + up. Instantly I hopped upon the seat beside the driver and said, “Central + Park.” + </p> + <p> + We dashed up Fifth Avenue and into the Park at full speed, and when we + were what I considered far enough in I ordered him to stop, and hurrying + up a low bank I began to grope among the leaves of last year under the + trees. I was right. In a few minutes I had filled my pockets with acorns, + was back in the car, and we were hurrying toward the house of the lover, + when I saw standing on a corner a figure I instantly recognized as Lemuel, + the elevator boy, and at the same time I remembered that Lemuel spent his + holidays pitching for a ball nine, He was just the man I needed, and I + stopped and made him get into the car. In a minute more we were before the + house again, and I handed Lemuel a fistful of acorns. He drew back and + threw them with all his strength toward the upper window. + </p> + <p> + My dear, will you believe it? Those acorns were wormy! They were light. + They would not carry to the window, but scattered like bits of chips when + they had travelled but half-way. I was upset, but Lemuel was not. He + ordered the chauffeur to drive to lower Sixth Avenue with all speed, in + order that he might get a baseball. With this he said he could hit any + mark, and we had started in that direction when, passing a restaurant on + Broadway, I saw emerge Henry and Madge. + </p> + <p> + “Better far,” I said to myself, “put this young woman in charge of her + brother and his new wife than leave her to elope alone,” and I made the + chauffeur draw up beside them. Hastily I explained the situation, and + where we were going at that moment, and Henry and Madge laughed in unison. + </p> + <p> + “Madge,” said Henry, “we had no trouble making wormy acorns travel through + the air, had we?” And both laughed again. At this I made them get into the + automobile, and while we returned to the lover's house I made them + explain. It was very simple, and I had just tied a dozen acorns tightly in + my handkerchief, making a ball to throw at the window, when the poor woman + with the baby noticed that the window was partly open. I asked Lemuel if + he could throw straight enough to throw the handkerchief-ball into the + window, and he said he could, and took the handkerchief, but a brighter + idea came to me, and I turned to the eloping young lady. + </p> + <p> + “Let me have your handkerchief, if it has your initials on it,” I said; + “for when he sees that fall into his room he will know you are here. He + will not think you are forward, coming to him alone, for he will know you + could never have thrown the handkerchief, even if loaded with acorns, to + such a height. It will be your message to him.” + </p> + <p> + At this, which I do pride myself was a suggestion worthy of myself, all + were delighted, and while I modestly tied twelve acorns in the + handkerchief on which were the initials “T. M. C.,” all the others + cheered. Even the woman from whom I had received the three auburn-red + curls cheered, and the baby that was half-filled out of the patent + nursing-bottle crowed with joy. But the chauffeur honked his honker. + Lemuel took the handkerchief full of acorns in his hand and drew back his + famous left arm, when suddenly Theodora Mitchell Corwin—for that was + the eloping young lady's name—shrieked, and looking up we saw her + lover at the window. He gave an answering yell and disappeared, and Lemuel + let his left arm fall and handed me the handkerchief-ball. + </p> + <p> + In the excitement I dropped it into my pocket, and it was not until I was + on the car for Westcote that I discovered it, and then, not wishing to be + any later in getting home, I did not go back to give it to Theodora + Mitchell Corwin; in fact, I did not know where she had eloped to. Nor + could I give it to Madge or Henry, for they had gone on their wedding + journey as soon as they saw Theodora and her lover safely eloped. + </p> + <p> + I had no right to give it to the poor woman with the baby, even if she had + not immediately disappeared into her world of poverty, and it certainly + did not belong to Lemuel, nor could I have given it to him, for he took + the ten dollars the lover gave him and stayed out so late that he was late + to work this morning and was discharged. He said he was going back to + Texas. So I brought the handkerchief and the twelve acorns home, knowing + you would be interested in hearing their story. + </p> + <p> + When Mr. Billings had thus finished his relation of the happenings of his + long evening, Mrs. Billings was thoughtful for a minute. Then she said: + </p> + <p> + “But Rollin, when I spoke to you of the handkerchief and the twelve acorns + you blushed, and said you had reason to blush. I see nothing in this kind + action you did to cause a blush.” + </p> + <p> + “I blushed,” said Mr. Billings, “to think of the lie I was going to tell + Theodora Merrill Corwin—” + </p> + <p> + “I thought you said her name was Theodora Mitchell Corwin,” said Mrs. + Billings. + </p> + <p> + “Mitchell or Merill,” said Mr. Billings. “I cannot remember exactly + which.” + </p> + <p> + For several minutes Mrs. Billings was silent. Occasionally she would open + her mouth as if to ask a question, but each time she closed it again + without speaking. Mr. Billings sat regarding his wife with what, in a man + of less clear conscience, might be called anxiety. At length Mrs. Billings + put her sewing into her sewing-basket and arose. + </p> + <p> + “Rollin,” she said, “I have enjoyed hearing you tell your experiences + greatly. I can say but one thing: Never in your life have you deceived me. + And you have not deceived me now.” + </p> + <p> + For half an hour after this Mr. Billings sat alone, thinking. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III. OUR FIRST BURGLAR + </h2> + <p> + When our new suburban house was completed I took Sarah out to see it, and + she liked it all but the stairs. + </p> + <p> + “Edgar,” she said, when she had ascended to the second floor, “I don't + know whether it is imagination or not, but it seems to me that these + stairs are funny, some way. I can't understand it. They are not a long + flight, and they are not unusually steep, but they seem to be unusually + wearying. I never knew a short flight to tire me so, and I have climbed + many flights in the six years we have lived in flats.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps, Sarah,” I said, with mild dissimulation, “you are unusually + tired to-day.” + </p> + <p> + The fact was that I had planned those stairs myself, and for a particular + reason I had made the rise of each step three inches more than the + customary height, and in this way I had saved two steps. I had also made + the tread of the steps unusually narrow; and the reason was that I had + found, from long experience, that stair carpet wears first on the tread of + the steps, where the foot falls. By making the steps tall enough to save + two, and by making the tread narrow, I reduced the wear on the carpet to a + minimum. I believe in economy where it is possible. For the same reason I + had the stair banisters made wide, with a saddle-like top to the newel + post, to tempt my son and daughter to slide downstairs. The less they used + the stairs the longer the carpet would last. + </p> + <p> + I need hardly say that Sarah has a fear of burglars; most women have. As + for myself, I prefer not to meet a burglar. It is all very well to get up + in the night and prowl about with a pistol in one hand, seeking to + eliminate the life of a burglar, and some men may like it; but I am of a + very excitable nature, and I am sure that if I did find a burglar and + succeeded in shooting him, I should be in such an excited state that I + could not sleep again that night—and no man can afford to lose his + night's rest. + </p> + <p> + There are other objections to shooting a burglar in the house, and these + objections apply with double force when the house and its furnishings are + entirely new. Although some of the rugs in our house were red, not all of + them were; and I had no guarantee that if I shot a burglar he would lie + down on a red rug to bleed to death. A burglar does not consider one's + feelings, and would be quite as apt to bleed on a green rug, and spoil it, + as not. Until burglarizing is properly regulated and burglars are + educated, as they should be, in technical burglary schools, we cannot hope + that a shot burglar will staunch his wound until he can find a red rug to + lie down on. + </p> + <p> + And there are still other objections to shooting a burglar. If all + burglars were fat, one of these would be removed; but perhaps a thin + burglar might get in front of my revolver, and in that case the bullet + would be likely to go right through him and continue on its way, and + perhaps break a mirror or a cut-glass dish. I am a thin man myself, and if + a burglar shot at me he might damage things in the same way. + </p> + <p> + I thought all these things over when we decided to build in the suburbs, + for Sarah is very nervous about burglars, and makes me get up at the + slightest noise and go poking about. Only the fact that no burglar had + ever entered our flat at night had prevented what might have been a + serious accident to a burglar, for I made it a rule, when Sarah wakened me + on such occasions, to waste no time, but to go through the rooms as + hastily as possible and get back to bed; and at the speed I travelled I + might have bumped into a burglar in the dark and knocked him over, and his + head might have struck some hard object, causing concussion of the brain; + and as a burglar has a small brain a small amount of concussion might have + ruined it entirely. But as I am a slight man it might have been my brain + that got concussed. A father of a family has to think of these things. + </p> + <p> + The nervousness of Sarah regarding burglars had led me in this way to + study the subject carefully, and my adoption of jet-black pajamas as + nightwear was not due to cowardice on my part. I properly reasoned that if + a burglar tried to shoot me while I was rushing around the house after him + in the darkness, a suit of black pajamas would somewhat spoil his aim, + and, not being able to see me, he would not shoot at all. In this way I + should save Sarah the nerve shock that would follow the explosion of a + pistol in the house. For Sarah was very much more afraid of pistols than + of burglars. I am sure there were only two reasons why I had never killed + a burglar with a pistol: one was that no burglar had ever entered our + flat, and the other was that I never had a pistol. + </p> + <p> + But I knew that one is much less protected in a suburb than in town, and + when I decided to build I studied the burglar protection matter most + carefully. I said nothing to Sarah about it, for fear it would upset her + nerves, but for months I considered every method that seemed to have any + merit, and that would avoid getting a burglar's blood—or mine—spattered + around on our new furnishings. I desired some method by which I could + finish up a burglar properly without having to leave my bed, for although + Sarah is brave enough in sending me out of bed to catch a burglar, I knew + she must suffer severe nerve strain during the time I was wandering about + in the dark. Her objection to explosives had also to be considered, and I + really had to exercise my brain more than common before I hit upon what I + may now consider the only perfect method of handling burglars. + </p> + <p> + Several things coincided to suggest my method. One of these was Sarah's + foolish notion that our silver must, every night, be brought from the + dining-room and deposited under our bed. This I considered a most + foolhardy tempting of fate. It coaxed any burglar who ordinarily would + have quietly taken the silver from the dining-room and have then gone away + peacefully, to enter our room. The knowledge that I lay in bed ready at + any time to spring out upon him would make him prepare his revolver, and + his nervousness might make him shoot me, which would quite upset Sarah's + nerves. I told Sarah so, but she had a hereditary instinct for bringing + the silver to the bedroom, and insisted. I saw that in the suburban house + this, would be continued as “bringing the silver upstairs,” and a trial of + my carpet-saving stairs suggested to me my burglar-defeating plan. I had + the apparatus built into the house, and I had the house planned to agree + with the apparatus. + </p> + <p> + For several months after we moved into the house I had no burglars, but I + felt no fear of them in any event. I was prepared for them. + </p> + <p> + In order not to make Sarah nervous, I explained to her that my invention + of a silver-elevator was merely a time-saving device. From the top of the + dining-room sideboard I ran upright tracks through the ceiling to the back + of the hall above, and in these I placed a glass case, which could be run + up and down the tracks like a dumbwaiter. All our servant had to do when + she had washed the silver was to put it in the glass case, and I had + attached to the top of the case a stout steel cable which ran to the + ceiling of the hall above, over a pulley, and so to our bedroom, which was + at the front of the hall upstairs. By this means I could, when I was in + bed, pull the cable, and the glass case of silver would rise to the second + floor. Our bedroom door opened upon the hall, and from the bed I could see + the glass case; but in order that I might be sure that the silver was + there I put a small electric light in the case and kept it burning all + night. Sarah was delighted with this arrangement, for in the morning all I + had to do was to pay out the steel cable and the silver would descend to + the dining-room, and the maid could have the table all set by the time + breakfast was ready. Not once did Sarah have a suspicion that all this was + not merely a household economy, but my burglar trap. + </p> + <p> + On the sixth of August, at two o'clock in the morning, Sarah awakened me, + and I immediately sat straight up in bed. There was an undoubtable noise + of sawing, and I knew at once that a burglar was entering our home. Sarah + was trembling, and I knew she was getting nervous, but I ordered her to + remain calm. + </p> + <p> + “Sarah,” I said, in a whisper, “be calm! There is not the least danger. I + have been expecting this for some time, and I only hope the burglar has no + dependent family or poor old mother to support. Whatever happens, be calm + and keep perfectly quiet.” + </p> + <p> + With that I released the steel cable from the head of my bed and let the + glass case full of silver slide noiselessly to the sideboard. + </p> + <p> + “Edgar!” whispered Sarah in agonized tones, “are you giving him our + silver?” + </p> + <p> + “Sarah!” I whispered sternly, “remember what I have just said. Be calm and + keep perfectly quiet.” And I would say no more. + </p> + <p> + In a very short time I heard the window below us open softly, and I knew + the burglar was entering the parlour from the side porch. I counted + twenty, which I had figured would be the time required for him to reach + the dining-room, and then, when I was sure he must have seen the silver + shining in the glass case, I slowly pulled on the steel cable and raised + case and silver to the hall above. Sarah began to whisper to me, but I + silenced her. + </p> + <p> + What I had expected happened. The burglar, seeing the silver rise through + the ceiling, left the dining-room and went into the hall. There, from the + foot of the stairs, he could see the case glowing in the hall above, and + without hesitation he mounted the stairs. As he reached the top I had a + good view of him, for he was silhouetted against the light that glowed + from the silver case. He was a most brutal looking fellow of the + prize-fighting type, but I almost laughed aloud when I saw his build. He + was short and chunky. As he stepped forward to grasp the silver case, I + let the steel cable run through my fingers, and the case and its precious + contents slid noiselessly down to the dining-room. For only one instant + the burglar seemed disconcerted, then he turned and ran downstairs again. + </p> + <p> + This time I did not wait so long to draw up the silver. I hardly gave him + time to reach the dining-room door before I jerked the cable, and the case + was glowing in the upper hall. The burglar immediately stopped, turned, + and mounted the stairs, but just as he reached the top I let the silver + slide down again, and he had to turn and descend. Hardly had he reached + the bottom step before I had the silver once more in the upper hall. + </p> + <p> + The burglar was a gritty fellow and was not to be so easily defeated. With + some word which I could not catch, but which I have no doubt was profane, + or at least vulgar, he dashed up the stairs, and just as his hand touched + the case I let the silver drop to the dining-room. I smiled as I saw his + next move. He carefully removed his coat and vest, rolled up his sleeves, + and took off his collar. This evidently meant that he intended to get the + silver if it took the whole night, and nothing could have pleased me more. + I lay in my comfortable bed fairly shaking with suppressed laughter, and + had to stuff a corner of a pillow in my mouth to smother the sound of my + mirth. I did not allow the least pity for the unfortunate fellow to weaken + my nerve. + </p> + <p> + A low, long screech from the hall told me that I had a man of uncommon + brain to contend with, for I knew the sound came from his hands drawing + along the banister, and that to husband his strength and to save time, he + was sliding down. But this did not disconcert me. It pleased me. The + quicker he went down, the oftener he would have to walk up. + </p> + <p> + For half an hour I played with him, giving him just time to get down to + the foot of the stairs before I raised the silver, and just time to reach + the top before I lowered it, and then I grew tired of the sport—for + it was nothing else to me—and decided to finish him off. I was + getting sleepy, but it was evident that the burglar was not, and I was a + little afraid I might fall asleep and thus defeat myself. The burglar had + that advantage because he was used to night work. So I quickened my + movements a little. When the burglar slid down I gave him just time to see + the silver rise through the ceiling, and when he climbed the stairs I only + allowed him to see it descend through the floor. In this way I made him + double his pace, and as I quickened my movements I soon had him dashing up + the stairs and sliding down again as if for a wager. I did not give him a + moment for rest, and he was soon panting terribly and beginning to + stumble; but with almost superhuman nerve he kept up the chase. He was an + unusually tough burglar. + </p> + <p> + But quick as he was I was always quicker, and a glimpse of the glowing + case was all I let him have at either end of his climb or slide. No sooner + was he down than it was up, and no sooner was the case up than he was up + after it. In this way I kept increasing his speed until it was something + terrific, and the whole house shook, like an automobile with a very + powerful motor. But still his speed increased. I saw then that I had + brought him to the place I had prepared for, where he had but one object + in life, and that was to beat the case up or down stairs; and as I was now + so sleepy I could hardly keep my eyes open, I did what I had intended to + do from the first. I lowered the case until it was exactly between the + ceiling of the dining-room and the floor of the hall above—and + turned out the electric light. I then tied the steel cable securely to the + head of my bed, turned over, and went to sleep, lulled by the shaking of + the house as the burglar dashed up and down the stairs. + </p> + <p> + Just how long this continued I do not know, for my sleep was deep and + dreamless, but I should judge that the burglar ran himself to death + sometime between half-past three and a quarter after four. So great had + been his efforts that when I went to remove him I did not recognize him at + all. When I had seen him last in the glow of the glass silver case he had + been a stout, chunky fellow, and now his remains were those of an + emaciated man. He must have run off one hundred and twenty pounds of flesh + before he gave out. + </p> + <p> + Only one thing clouded my triumph. Our silver consisted of but half a + dozen each of knives, forks, and spoons, a butter knife, and a sugar + spoon, all plated, and worth probably five dollars, and to save this I had + made the burglar wear to rags a Wilton stair carpet worth twenty-nine + dollars. But I have now corrected this. I have bought fifty dollars worth + of silver. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Water Goats and Other Troubles, by +Ellis Parker Butler + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WATER GOATS AND OTHER TROUBLES *** + +***** This file should be named 1285-h.htm or 1285-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/2/8/1285/ + +Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer, and David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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