The Water Goats, and Other Troubles Page 2

M. T."

  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 hecontrolled several votes in the Fourth Ward. His elevation from thedump-cart of the street cleaning department to the high office ofKeeper of the Water Goats was one that Dugan believed would give generalsatisfaction.

  When the goats arrived in Jeffersonville the two heavy crates werehauled 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 creasedbrow almost uncreased as he bent down and peered between the bars of thecrates. They were fine goats. Perhaps they looked somewhat more dejectedthan a goat usually looks--more dirty and down at the heels than a goatoften looks--but they were undoubtedly goats. As specimens of ordinaryIrish goats they might not have passed muster with a careful buyer, butno doubt they were excellent examples of the dongola.

  "Ye have done good, Mike," said the mayor. "Ye have done good! But ain'tthey mebby a bit off their feed--or something?"

  "Off their feed!" said Toole. "An' who wouldn't be, poor things? Mindye, Dugan, thim is not common goats--thim is dongolas--an' used to bein'in th' wather con-continuous from mornin' till night. 'Tis sufferin' fora swim they be, poor animals. Wance let thim git in th' lake an' ye willsee th' difference, Dugan. 'Twill make all th' difference in th' worrldt' thim. 'Tis dyin' for a swim they are."

  "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."

  They were. They surprised the Keeper of the Goats first of all. The daybefore the park was to be opened to the public the goats were taken tothe park and turned over to their official keeper. At eleveno'clock that morning Alderman Toole was leaning against Casey's bar,confidentially pouring into his ear the story of how the dongolas hadgiven their captors a world of trouble, swimming violently to the farreaches of Lake Geneva and hiding among the bulrushes and reeds, whenthe 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. Helooked as if he had been soaked in water over night, and not wrung outin the morning.

  "Mike!" he whispered hoarsely, grasping the little alderman by the arm."I want ye! I want ye down at th' park."

  A chill of fear passed over Alderman Toole. He turned his face to Faganand laid his hand on his shoulder.

  "Tim," he demanded, "has annything happened t' th' dongolas?"

  "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! Isannything gone wrong with thim, did ye say? Nawthin'! They be in goodhealth, but they are not crazy t' be swimmin'. Th' way they do nothanker t' dash into th' water is marvellous, Mike. No water for thim!"

  "Hist!" said Toole uneasily, glancing around to see that no one butCasey was in hearing. "Mebby ye have not started thim right, Tim."

  "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, Ihave 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 startedthim frontwards, an' I have took thim in by th' horns an' give thimlessons 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?"

  "Hist!" said Toole again. "Not so loud, Tim! Ye haven't told Dugan haveye?"

  "I have not!" said Tim, with anger. "I have not told annybody annythingexcipt thim goats an' what I told thim is not dacint hearin'. I haveconversed 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. Comeon down an' argue with thim, an persuade thim with th' soft sound of yervoice t' swim. Come on down an' git thim water goats used t' th' water."

  "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 wetKeeper of the Water Goats.

  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 hada hard morning, but as soon as they saw Tim Fagan they brightened up.They arose simultaneously on their hind legs and their eyes glitteredwith deadly hatred. They strained at their ropes, and then, suddenly,panic-stricken, they turned and ran, bringing up at the ends of theirropes with a shock that bent the stout stakes to which they werefastened. They stood still and cowered, trembling.

  "Lay hold!" commanded Toole. "Lay hold of a horn of th' brute till Ishow ye how t' make him swim."

  Through the fresh gravel of the beach the four feet of the reluctantgoat ploughed deep furrows. It shook its head from side to side, butToole and Fagan held it fast, and into the water it went.

  "Now!" cried Alderman Toole. "Git behind an' push, Tim! Wan! Two! Three!Push!"

  Alderman Toole released his hold and Keeper of the Water Goats Faganpushed. Then they tried the other goat. It was easier to try the otherwater 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. Itseemed 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. Butit did not mind travel--it went to the farthest part of the park, and itwould have gone farther if it could. So Alderman Toole and Keeper Fagantried the other water goat. That one went straight to the other end ofthe park. It swerved from a straight line but once, and that was whenit shied at a pail of water that was in the way. It did not seem to likewater.

  In the Franklin Zoo Dennis Toole had just removed the lid of his tinlunch-pail when the telegraph boy handed him the yellow envelope. Heturned it over and over, studying its exterior, while the boy went tolook at the shop-worn brown bear. The zoo keeper decided that there wasno way to find out what was inside of the envelope but to open it. Hewas ready for the worst. He wondered, unthinkingly, which one of hisforty or more cousins was dead, and opened the envelope.

  "Dennis Toole, Franklin Zoo," he read, "Dongolas won't swim. How do youmake them swim? Telegraph at once. Michael Toole."

  He laid the telegram across his knees and looked at it as if it was somestrange communication from another sphere. He pushed his hat to one sideof his head and scratched the tuft of red hair thus bared.

  "'Dongolas won't swim!"' he repeated slowly. "An' how do I make thimswim? 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 wouldI 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 withexasperation, "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 balloonascension? 'Tis no fault of Dennis Toole's thim goats won't swim. Whatwill Mike be telegraphin' me nixt, I wonder? 'Dear Dennis: Th' goatswon't lay eggs. How do ye make thim?' Bye, have ye a piece of paper t'write an answer t' me cousin Mike on?"

  The Keeper of the Water Goats and Alderman Toole were sitting on arustic bench looking sadly at the water goats when the Jeffersonvilletelegraph messenger brought them Dennis Toole's answer. Alderman Toolegrasped the envelope eagerly and
tore it open, and Fagan leaned over hisshoulder as he read it:

  "Michael Toole, Alderman, Jeffersonville," they read. "Put them in thewater and see if they will