The Water Goats, and Other Troubles
Page 1
Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer
THE WATER GOATS AND OTHER TROUBLES
By Ellis Parker Butler
By The Same Author
Pigs is Pigs
The Great American Pie Company
Mike Flannery On Duty and off
The Thin Santa Claus
That Pup, Kilo, etc.
THE WATER GOATS AND OTHER TROUBLES
CONTENTS
I. THE WATER GOATS II. MR. BILLINGS'S POCKETS III. OUR FIRST BURGLAR
I. THE WATER GOATS
"And then," said the landscape gardener, combing his silky, pointedbeard gently with his long, artistic fingers, "in the lake you mighthave a couple of gondolas. Two would be sufficient for a lake of thissize; amply sufficient. Yes," he said firmly, "I would certainly advisegondolas. They look well, and the children like to ride on them. And sodo the adults. I would have two gondolas in the lake."
Mayor Dugan and the City Council, meeting as a committee of the wholeto receive the report of the landscape gardener and his plan for the newpublic park, nodded their heads sagely.
"Sure!" said Mayor Dugan. "We want two of thim--of thim gon--thim gon--"
"Gondolas," said the landscape gardener. "Sure!" said Mayor Dugan, "wewant two of thim. Remimber th' gondolas, Toole."
"I have thim fast in me mind," said Toole. "I will not let thim gitaway, Dugan."
The landscape gardener stood a minute in deep thought, looking at theceiling.
"Yes, that is all!" he said. "My report, and the plan, and what I havementioned, will be all you need."
Then he shook hands with the mayor and with all the city councilmenand left Jeffersonville forever, going back to New York where landscapegardeners grow, and the doors were opened and the committee of the wholebecame once more the regular meeting of the City Council.
The appropriation for the new park was rushed through in twenty minutes,passing the second and third readings by the reading of the title undera suspension of the by-laws, and being unanimously adopted. It was amatter of life and death with Mayor Dugan and his ring. Jeffersonvillewas getting tired of the joyful grafters, and murmurs of discontentwere concentrating into threats of a reform party to turn thecheerful rascals out. The new park was to be a sop thrown to thepopulace--something to make the city proud of itself and grateful to itsmayor and council. It was more than a pet scheme of Mayor Dugan, itwas a lifeboat for the ring. In half an hour the committees had beenappointed, and the mayor turned to the regular business. Then from hisseat at the left of the last row little Alderman Toole arose.
"Misther Mayor," he said, "how about thim--thim don--thim don--Golas!"whispered Alderman Grevemeyer hoarsely, "dongolas."
"How about thim dongolas, Misther Mayor?" asked Alderman Toole.
"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 AldermanToole be a conmittee of wan t' git two dongolas t' put in th' lake?"
"I make dot motions," said Alderman Greveneyer, half raising his greatbulk from his seat and sinking back with a grunt.
"Sicond th' motion," said Alderman Toole.
"Moved and siconded," said the mayor, "that Alderman Toole be acommittee t' buy two dongolas t' put in th' lake for th' kids t' rideon. Ye have heard th' motion."
The motion was unanimously carried. That was the kind of City CouncilMayor Dugan had chosen.
When little Alderman Toole dropped into Casey's saloon that night on hisway home he did not slip meekly to the far end of the bar, as he usuallydid. For the first time in his aldermanic career he had been put on acommittee where he would really have something to do, and he feltthe honour. He boldly took a place between the big mayor and AldermanGrevemeyer, and said: "One of th' same, Casey," with the air of a manwho has matters of importance on his mind. He felt that things werecoming his way. Even the big mayor seemed to appreciate it, for he puthis hand affectionately on Toole's shoulder.
"Mike," said the mayor, "about thim dongolas, now; have ye thought annyabout where ye would be gettin' thim?"
"I have not," said Toole. "I was thinkin' 'twould be good t' think itover a bit, Dugan. Mebby 'twould be best t' git thim at Chicagy." Helooked anxiously at the mayor's face, hoping for some sign of approvalor disapproval, but the mayor's face was noncommittal. "But mebby itwouldn't," concluded Toole. As a feeler he added: "Would ye be wantin'me t' have thim made here, Dugan?"
The big mayor patted Toole on the shoulder indulgently.
"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 Iput 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, "yewill see that there is a rake-off for me an' th' byes."
"Sure!" said Toole.
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.
"Mike," he said, "what do ye think? Mebby 'twould do as well t' git acouple of sicond-hand dongolas an' have thim painted up. If they was inpurty good shape no wan would know th' difference, an' 'twould make abit more rake-off fer th' byes, mebby."
"Th' same word was on th' ind o' me tongue, Dugan," said Toole, noddinghis head slowly. "I was considerin' this very minute where I could layme hand on a couple of purty good dongolas that has not been used much.Flannagan could paint thim up fine!"
"Or Stoltzenau could do such paintings," interposed Grevemeyer.
"Sure!" agreed the big mayor. He toyed with his glass a moment. "Mike,"he said suddenly, "what th' divil is a dongola, anyhow?"
Mike Toole was just raising his glass to his lips with the movements ofone accustomed to hold conversation with the mayor. His left hand restedon his hip, with his arm akimbo, and his hat was tipped carelessly tothe back of his head. The hand raising his glass stopped short where itwas when he heard the mayor's question. He frowned at the glass--scowledat it angrily.
"A dongola, Dugan"--he said slowly, and stopped. "A dongola"--herepeated. "A dongola--did ye ask me what a dongola might be, Dugan?"
The big mayor nodded, and Grevemeyer leaned forward to catch the answer.Casey, too, leaned on his bar and listened. Alderman Toole raised hisglass to his lips and filled his mouth with the liquor. Instantly hedashed the glass furiously to the floor. He jerked off his hat and castit 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 laidtheir hands on the little man and held him tightly. The big mayor shookhim once and set him on the floor.
"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?"
"Knock-out drops!" shouted Toole, shaking his fist at Casey, who lookeddown at him in astonishment. "Knock-out drops! I will have th' law onye, Casey. I will have th' joint closed! I'll teach ye t' be givin'knock-out drops t' th' aldermin of th' city!"
"Mike!" cried the big mayor, giving him another vigorous shake. "Shut upwid ye! Casey wouldn't be givin' ye annything that wasn't good for ye.Casey wouldn't be givin' ye knock-out drops."
"No?" whispered Mike angrily. "No? Wouldn't he, Dugan? An' what has hedone t' me mimory, then, Dugan? What has he put in th' drink t' robme of me mimory? Wan minute ago I knew as well anny other man what adongola is like, an' now I have no mimory of anny dongolas at all. Wanminute 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 annywancould recognize--an
' now I wouldn't know wan if ye was show it t' me! Iwas 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. Yesaw me take a drink, Grevemeyer?"
"Ya!" said Grevemeyer, nodding his head solemnly. "You took such adrink!"
"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 mea chromo of wan I wouldn't know was it a dongola or what. I'm ashamed ofye, Casey!"
"If ye done it, Casey, ye hadn't have ought t' have done it," said Duganreprovingly. "Th' mind of him might be ruined intirely."
"Stop, Dugan!" said Toole hastily. "I forgive him. Me mind will likelybe all right by mornin'. 'Tis purty good yit, ixcipt on th' subjict ofdongolas. I'm timporarily out of remimbrance what dongolas is. 'Tis oddhow thim knock-out drops works, Grevemeyer."
"Ya!" said the alderman unsuspectingly, "gifing such a forgetfulness onsuch easy things as dongolas."
"Sure! You tell Dugan what dongolas is, Grevemeyer," said Toole quickly.
Grevemeyer looked at his glass thoughtfully. His mind worked slowlyalways, but he saw that it would not do for him to have knock-out dropsso soon after Toole.
"Ach!" he exclaimed angrily. "You are insulting to me mit such questionsToole. So much will I tell you--never ask Germans what is dongolas. Itis not for Germans to talk about such things. Ask Casey."
Casey scratched his head thoughtfully.
"Dongolas?" he repeated. "I have heard th' word, Grevemeyer. Wait a bit!'Tis something about shoes. Sure! I remimber, now! 'Twas dongola shoeswan of me kids had, last winter, an' no good they were, too. Dongolas isshoes, Grevemeyer--laced shoes--dongolas is laced shoes."
The big mayor leaned his head far back and laughed long and loud. Hepounded on the bar with his fist, and slapped Toole on the back.
"Laced shoes!" he cried, wiping his eyes, and then he became suddenlyserious. "'Twould not be shoes, Casey," he said gravely. "Thim dongolaswas ricomminded by th' landscape-gardener from New Yorrk. 'Twould not besinsible t' ricommind us put a pair of laced shoes in th' park lake ferth' kids t' ride on."
"'Twould not seem so," said Toole, shaking his head wisely. "I wisht memind was like it always is. 'Tis a pity--"
"Stop!" cried Casey. "I have it! Thim was kid shoes. Thim dongolas waskid shoes."
"So said, Casey," said Duo'an "For th' kid."
"No," said Casey, "of th' kid."
"Sure!" said Gravemeyer. "So it is--the shoes of the child."
"Right fer ye!" exclaimed Casey. "Th' kid shoes of th' kid. 'Twas kidleather they were made out of, Dugan. Th' dongola is some fancy kindof 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."
"Ho, ho-o-o!" cried Toole, suddenly, knocking on his forehead withthe knuckles of his fist. The three men turned their eyes upon him andstared.
"What ails ye now, Mike?" asked Dugan, disgustedly.
"Ho-o-o!" he cried again, slapping himself on the top of his head. "Memind is comm' back t' me, Dugan! Th' effects of th' knock-out drops iswearin' off! I recall now that th' dongola is some fancy kind of a goat.'Twill all come back t' me soon.
"Go along wid ye!" exclaimed Dugan. "Would ye be puttin' a goat in th'lake for th' kids t' ride on?"
"Sure!" said Toole enthusiastically. "Sure I would, Dugan. Not th'common goat I wouldn't. But dongola goats I would. Have ye heard ofdongola water goats, Casey? Was thim dongola goat skin shoes warrantedt' be water-proof?"
Casey wrinkled his brow.
"'Tis like they was, Toole," he said doubtfully. "'Tis like they waswarranted t' be, but they wasn't."
"Sure!" cried Toole joyously. "'Tis water-proof th' skin of th' dongolawater goats is, like th' skin of th' duck. An' swim? A duck isn't in itwid a water goat. I remimber seein' thim in ould Ireland whin I wasa bye, Dugan, swimmin in th' lake of Killarney. Ah, 'twas a purtypicture."
"I seem t' remimber thim mesilf," he said. "Not clear, but a bit."
"Sure ye do!" cried Toole. "Many's the time I have rode across th' lakeon th' back of a dongola. Me own father, who was a big man in th' ouldcountry, used t' keep a pair of thim for us childer. 'Twas himselffetched thim from Donnegal, Dugan. 'Twas from Donnegal they got th' nameof thim, an' 'twas th' name ye give thim that misled me. Donnegoraswas what we called thim in th' ould counry--donnegoras from Donnegal. Iremimber th' two of thim I had whin I was a kid, Dugan--wan was a Nanny,an' wan was a Billy, an'--"
"Go on home, Mike," said Dugan. "Go on home an' sleep it off!" and thelittle alderman from the Fourth Ward picked up his hat and coat, andobeyed his orders.
Instituting a new public park and seeing that in every purchase andevery contract there is a rake-off for the ring is a big job, andbetween this and the fight against the rapidly increasing strength ofthe reform party, Mayor Dugan had his hands more than full. He had notime to think of dongolas, and he did not want to think of them--Toolewas 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 notworry. He sat down and wrote a letter to his cousin Dennis, officialkeeper of the zoo in Idlewild Park at Franklin, Iowa.
"Dear Dennis," he wrote. "Have you any dongola goats in your menageryfor I want two right away good strong ones answer right away youraffectionate cousin alderman Michael Toole."
"Ps monny no object."
When Dennis Toole received this letter he walked through his zoo andconsidered his animals thoughtfully. The shop-worn brown bear would notdo to fill cousin Mike's order; neither would the weather-worn red deernor the family of variegated tame rabbits. The zoo of Idlewild Park atFranklin was woefully short of dongola goats--in fact, to any but themost imaginative and easily pleased child, it was lacking in nearlyevery thing that makes a zoo a congress of the world's most rare andthrilling creatures. After all, the nearest thing to a goat was a goat,and goats were plenty in Franklin. Dennis felt an irresistible longingto aid Mike--the longing that comes to any healthy man when a requestis accompanied by the legend "Money no object." He wrote that evening toMike.
"Dear Mike," he wrote. "I've got two good strong dongola goats I can letyou have cheap. I'm overstocked with dongolas to-day. I want to get ridof two. Zoo is getting too crowded with all kinds of animals and Idon't need so many dongola goats. I will sell you two for fifty dollars.Apiece. What do you want them for? Your affectionate cousin, DennisToole, Zoo keeper. PS. Crates extra."
"Casey," said Mike to his friend the saloon keeper when he received thiscommunication, "'tis just as I told ye--dongolas is goats. I havebeen 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 watergoat is a rare birrd, Casey. They have become extinct in th' lakesof Ireland, an' what few of thim is left in th' worrld is held atoutrajeous prices. In th' letter I have from th' animal man, Casey, hewants two hundred dollars apiece for each dongola water goat, an' 'twillbe no easy thing for him t' git thim."
"Hasn't he thim in his shop, Mike?" asked Casey.
"He has not, Casey," said the little alderman. "He has no place forthim. 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 tankfor the preservation of water goats. Hippopotamuses an' alligators an'crocodiles an' dongola water goats an' sea lions he does not keep instock, Casey, but sinds out an' catches thim whin ordered. He writesthat his agints has their eyes on two fine dongolas, an' he hastiligraphed thim t' catch thim."
"Are they near by, Mike?" asked Casey, much interested.
"Naw," said Toole. "'Twill be some time till I git thim. Th' last heheard of thim they were swimmin' in th' Lake of Geneva."
"Is it far, th' lake?" asked Casey.
"I disremimber how far," said Toole. "'Tis in Africa or Asia, or mebby'tis in Constantinople. Wan of thim countries it is, annyhow."
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But to his cousin Dennis he wrote:
"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 affectionatecousin alderman Michael Toole. Ps Make bill for two hundred dollars apiece. Business is business. This is between us two.