Santa Fe daily New Mexican. [volume] (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1885-1897, 1897-08-06
A FRENCHMAN'S GOAT

The Frenchman had never been lucky
with his goats.
He lost them all the same way. One
fine day they would break their rope
and run up the mountain side, where
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 Frenohman, who did not
understand the nature of his animals
in the least, was bewildered. He would
say: "It is all over. My goats don't
like to stay with me. I shan't keep any
more.
All the same, he did not get discour-
aged, for after having host 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, madoap! She was dear crea-
ture, that little goat Of the Frenchman!
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 affec-
tionate, allowing herself to be MIXED
without stirring, without ever putting
her foot into the bucket. A darling lit
tie goatl
Behind his house the Frenchman had
lot with hawthorn hedge around it.
This is where he put his new boarder.
He tied her toa stake on the most beau
tiful spot in the meadow, taking care
to give her good deal of rope, and
from time to time he came out to see
whether she were doing WE'LL 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:
GLOW happy one must be up there!
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 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 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. 7 am very miser-
able here. Let me run up the noun
tain.
Gracious mel She, too9" 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 you?"
"Yes, SIR" answered Daisy.
Isn't there grass enough?"
"Oh, yes, sir. "
Perhaps your rope is too tight Shall
lengthen it a little?"
'Tisn't worth while, sir.
"Well, then, what is the trouble?
What do you want?"
"Iwant to run up the mountain side. !"
MY poor love, don't you know that
there, is wolf up in the mountains?
What will you do when he comes?"
II can butt him with my horns, sir. :"
"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 OH earth have they done
to all my goats? Another one which
the wolf will take from me. No, no. I
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. I"
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 q creature. She was well
coined % 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 q
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, arsss