The Water Goats and Other Troubles | Page 8

show ye how t' handle him," and he went out, followed by the
wet Keeper 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
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.
"Lay hold!" commanded Toole. "Lay hold of a horn of th' brute till I
show ye how t' make him swim."
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."
"Now!" cried Alderman Toole. "Git behind an' push, Tim! Wan! Two!
Three! Push!"
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.
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.
"Dennis Toole, Franklin Zoo," he read, "Dongolas won't swim. How do
you make them swim? Telegraph at once. Michael Toole."
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.
"'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?"
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:
"Michael Toole, Alderman, Jeffersonville," they read. "Put them in the
water and see if they will swim.