The Mount Holly news. [volume] (Mount Holly, Burlington Co., N.J.) 1891-1942, 1897-08-17
A FRENCHMAN'S GOAT

the wolf killed them. Nothing held
them back, neither the kindness of
their master nor the fear of the wolf.
They were independent goats, so it
seemed, who longed for freedom and
fresh air at any price.
The good Frenchman, who did not
understand the nature Of his animals
in the least, was bewildered. He would
say: sit is all over. My goats don't
like to stay with me. shan't keep any
more I"
All the same, he did not get discour-
aged, for after having lost six goats, one
after the other, he bought seventh,
only this time he was careful to take it
while it was still young, SO that it
might get used the better to staying
with him.
All, madcapl She was a dear crea-
ture, that little goat of the Frenchmanl
How pretty she was, with her soft eyes,
her funny chin whiskers, her shining
black hoofs, her little striped horns and
with her silky overcoat of white fur.
She was almost as beautiful, my mad
cap, as the little white goat of Esmer-
aida, and, with all that, good and affeo-
| tionate, allowing herself to be MIXED
without stirring. without ever putting
her foot into the bucket A darling lit
tie goati
Behind his house the Frenchman had
lot with hawthorn hedge around 1t.
This is where he put his new boarder
He tied her to a stake ON the most beau
tiful spot in the meadow, taking care
to give her a good deal of rope, and
from time to time he came out to see
whether she were doing well. The lit
tie goat was very happy and cropped
the grass SO demurely that the French
man was delighted. cat last thought
the poor man, at last there is one who
won't grow tired here'
The Frenchman was mistaken. The
goat found it tiresome.
One day she said, looking up at the
mountains:
81 How happy one must be up therel
What fun to frisk over the rocks with
out that horrid rope to make the neck
sorel 1t may be good enough for dom
key or for a calf to be shut up in pas
ture. Goats need the open country"
From that moment the grass Of the
meadow tasted fiat. Life became bur-
den. She grew thin and her milk gave
out. 1t was a pity to see her tug on her
rope all day, with her eyes turned to-
ward the mountain and her nostrils ex-
tended, bleating piteously all the while.
The Frenchman saw very well that
something was the matter with his goat,
only he did not know what it was. One
morning, when he had finished milking
her, the goat turned her head and said
in her own speech:
Listen, master. / am very miser-
able here. Let me run up the noun
tain
Gracious mel She, too?'' cried the
Frenchman in dismay, and the bucket
fell from his hand. Sitting down then
in the grass at the side of his goat, he
asked: ''How is this, Daisy? You don't
wish to leave me, do your"
Eyes, sir" answered Daisy.
Isn't there grass enoughP"
"Oh, yes, sir. :"
Perhaps your rope is too tight. Shall
lengthen it little?''
+" Tisn't worth while, sir. y
"Well, then, what is the trouble?
What do you want?'
"Iwant to run up the mountain side y
Ny poor love, don't you know that
there is wolf up in the mountains?
What will you do when he comesP'
II can butt him with my horns, sir. y
The wolf will laugh at your horns
He has killed my other goats, who had
longer horns than yours. You have
heard of that old Russell, who was here
last year-an old mother goat, strong
and ugly like buck? She fought all
night long with the wolf; then in the
morning the wolf killed her.
THAT doesn't make any difference,
master. Let me go up to the mountain -
"Great heavensp' said the French
man. "What ON earth have they done
to all my goats? Another one which
the wolf will take from me. No. no.
will save you in spite of yourself,
naughty thing, and lest you break your
rope will lock you up in the stable,
and you shall stay there for good -
So the Frenchman put the goat into
a dark stable and locked and bolted the
door behind him. Unluckily he had for
gotten the window, and his back was
scarcely turned before the little one
jumped out.
When the white goat had climbed the
mountain, there were joy and happiness
everywhere. Never had the old pines
seen SO pretty creature. She was well
coined as little queen. The chestnut
trees stopped down to the very earth to
pet her with the ends of their branches.
| The golden jennets opened to make
passage for her and smelled as sweet as
they could. All the mountain side babe
| her welcome.
You can fancy, madcap mine, how
happy our little goat was-no more
rope, no more stakes for her, nothing to
keep her from frisking about and graz
ing where she liked. There was grass
there up to her horns and higher, grass
that was fresh. tender, tufted, and with
it thousands Of plants and herbs, very
different, indeed, from the turf in the
Frenchman's yard. And flowers too.
There were large bluebells that tinkled
in the wind and purple foxgloves with
slender, dropping neoks-in short, whole
meadows of wild flowers smelling so
good they turned her head.
Half tipsy with delight, the white
goat tumbled around in it all, kicking
her four legs up in the air and rolling
down the hills all in heap with the
fallen leaves and the chestnut burs.
Then, quick as a fash, she would jump
to her feet and be off like flash, with
her head between her knees over the
stumps and through the bushes, now on
/ high rock, now again at the bottom
of gorge, up and down and every
where. You would have thought that
there were dozen goats on the noun
tain. All. mol Daisy wasn't afraid of
anything In single bound she jumped
over torrents where her fur was splashed
with spray and white foam. Dripping
and out of breath then, she stretched
herself out on some fiat rock and let the
sun dry her. Once when she went to
the edge of the cliff with clover bios
som in her mouth she saw below, far
below, her in the valley the house of the
Frenchman with the pasture behind it.
The sight made her laugh till her sides
ached.
How small it isr' she cried "How
could it ever have held me?''
Poor little thing Finding herself
nerched nm so high she thoupht she
was at least as big as the world.
Suddenly the wind freshened; the
mountain turned purple; it was even