THAT BRUTE OF A GOAT.

King Country Chronicle, Volume IV, Issue 221, 4 January 1909, Page 5

THAT BRUTE OF A GOAT.

—+ Now Uufus was a billygoat. Hov.* I ever come to behave will) such lamentable wickedness and lack of discretion 1 as did in bringing home a goat to the children it boots not to inquire Suffice it to ?ay that I did A neighbour o«* ours, Fpringett, gave this wicked beast to me one day when I was calling on him, and positively insisted upon my taking it away with me, there and then. We've no further use for it, be said. It's quite a pet, and will just do for the children.

And it very nearly did. ■Think you, my dear Springett, I replied promptly, but I couldn't think of depriving you of it, or of taking advantage of your generosity. You see, I've no experience of goats. Ten minutes of this goat will give you all you want, he replied, which statement was literally true.

Springett slipped a collar and chain on the animal and I started down the street with him.

Then, suddenly, he bolted. Panting and breathless, 1 sped down the road after him, passing on my way a furling cat. an astonished looking organ-grinder struggling to his feet, and an overturned old lady who had sat with awful violence on the pavement.

I neither stopped to help nor sought to make enquiry into these happenings. 1 thought it better net. After all, people must take care of themselves, and —— I was rur.*?*r.g past a butcher's shop at the moment, and, without warning of any sort, out came Rufns at about a thousand miles an hour. lie ran clean under my feet, and the next moment 1 was on the floor at full length. Slowly and sorely—surely, I mean —I got on to my legs, and grabbiong Uufus' chain, found myself facing the irate butcher.

So this brate is yours, is it? said the man of root ton angrily. E's butted my boy into the pickled pork tub an l now e's ran off with a steak —two pounds and a *arf prime cut. It was Indeed true —the steak was adorning Rufus' right horn, and giving the animal a most sanguinary appearance. It was useless to contest the point—the joint evidence (excuse the unintentional joke) of the butcher and the steak was incontrovertible. I sighed and put my band in my pocket to pay, while the crowd of idlers which had gathered round during our brief interview indulged in covert jeers and ribatd laughter at my expense. "Yes," said the butcher reflectively "an* there's 'arf-a-crown damages for the boy as well. You yourself would'nt tike to lie forwarded into a pirkle tub Vait first."

I hastened to agree with him, and leaving the value of the steak, plus half-a cown for the boy, I started once more, and Urn time got rafely home without further trouble. So delighted were my youngsters with the new acquisition that their pleasure almost made amends ot me for my recent suffering and humiliation. We all stood in an admiring group surrounding Rufus in the garden. I turned and stooped down in an unguarded moment to pat my youngest on the bead when —

"OifT!" and I was sprawling on the £1*354 on top of my last born; it was that brute of a goat again. It was never a frontal attack one had to fear with Kufus; his charges were always insidiously delivered from a point outside the range of the victim's vision. —Fox Russell in "Royal Magazine."