VI NED DOG AND BILLY GOAT

Phyllis was dozing on the top step of the side veranda while little Willis, in the gravel walk below, was playing with a Noah’s Ark. The animals were in grand parade when one of them met with an accident. Willis thought a moment, then, taking the loose ends of a string tied to one of the fuzzy toys, he climbed the steps to where Phyllis had just fallen in a peaceful nod against the pillar. He clumsily slipped the string between her open lips, and, with a slap and sputter, Mammy opened her eyes.

“Name er de Lawd, boy, whut is you tryin’ ter do?”

“I want you ter be er billy goat.”

“You wants sumthin’ I nuv’r is ter be. I’m willin’ ter be er hoss an’ on er pinch I’ll be er mule, but dey ain’t no time I’m willin’ ter be no ole billy goat fur nobody.”

“Please, Mammy,” laying a hand on her cheek in an effort to pull her face to him, “m’ billy goat’s got his legs broke, an’ I won’t have any goat if you don’t be one.”

“How come you don’t tu’n one dem dogs in er goat?” suggested Phyllis, her face obstinately averted.

“They haven’t got any horns!”

“I ain’t got no horns neether,” asserted Mammy.

“But you can make some,” persisted Willis.

“You think I’m gwineter pull dis bandanner off an’ roll my ole gray wool inter horns, does you?” chuckled the old nurse.

Willis nodded.

“Well, you foolin’ yo’se’f, dat’s all I got ter say.” But when Willis began to fret, Mammy relented: “I tell yer dat dog won’t know ’esse’f fum er goat, ef you calls him goat; ’caze I knows erbout er dog an’ er goat dat can’t tell t’other fum which.”

“No you don’t,” objected the tormentor tugging at her arm.

“I tells you I does, ’caze one day Mister Man went out ter hunt er dog an’ er goat fur his lit’le boy. He see Sis’ Dog an’ her fambly on de side er de road, an’ dey ’pears ter be in er mouty commotion ’bout sump’n. Mister Man holler’ an’ ax whut ail ’em. Sis’ Dog say she foun’ one er Sis’ Nanny Goat’s chilluns layin’ out in de pastur’ des er blatin’ all by ’esse’f, an’ she dunno whut ter do wid it. Mister Man say, ‘I’ll take keer uv it, an’ I’d like moutily ter take keer er one er yo’ chilluns, too.’ Sis’ Dog tell him ‘surtiny,’ dat it ’ud make her turr’bul proud fur one er her chilluns ter live up at his fine house. So Mister Man liftes de goat an’ de puppy up on Miss Race Hosses back ’long side er him an’ flies ’crost de country ter his house. When Mister Man’s ole lady see him, she th’ow up her han’s an’ say, ‘Name er de Lawd, Mister Man, whut you specks ter do wid dat goat?’ Mister Man say: ‘Oh! I’ll des put it out hyah wid de puppy an’ raise ’em bofe tergether.’”

“Wasn’t the little boy glad his papa kept the goat?” interrupted Willis.

“Is you glad I’m tellin’ dis tale?”

“Yes’m.”

“Dat’s ’zackly de way Mister Man’s boy feel, ’ceptin’ mo’ so. Dey puts er pan er milk out in de cow house, an’ bofe uv ’em eats outen it tergether. When dey gits big ernuf ter eat like sho’ nuf beastes, de little boy puts goat feed fur de goat an’ dog vit’als fur de dog.”

“What’s the dog’s name?”

“He wus jes’ name Collie Dog when he live wid his mammy, but when he start ter livin’ wid white fokes, de lit’le boy name ’im Ned.”

“An’ what’s the goat’s name?”

“He ain’t got nuthin’ ter do wid dat, ’caze de Lawd done already name him Billy. Well, when Billy Goat look’ at his feed, an’ Ned Dog look’ at his vit’als, dey bofe feels mouty proud, ’ceptin’ dey don’t seem ter make out howcum it ain’t mix’d tergether; so Billy he take an’ run over an’ try ter eat bones an’ meat, an’ Ned he run ter Billy’s box an’ try ter eat hay an’ bran mash; an’ dey keep on tryin’ ter eat one nuthers vit’als long es dey live’. Pres’ntly, Billy grow so big dat he ’gun ter grazin’ roun’ ’mongst de flow’rs an’ grass, an’ I speck he run in de house sumtimes, too, but it ’pears dat flow’r buds tas’e mo’ nicer ter ’im dan grass; so Mister Man’s old lady ’gun ter quoil an’ mirate an’ tell him, ‘You des got ter tetter dat goat!’”

“I don’t want ’im ter tetter Billy!” exclaimed the child, and his brown eyes filled with tears.

“Pshaw, boy, er tetter ain’t nuthin’ ter hu’t nobody! It’s des er rope you ties roun’ de horns er beastes an’ de uther een’ you ties ter er stob in de groun’! Well, when Billy find ’esse’f tied ter dat rope so he can’t go in de house and can’t go in de flow’r gyarden, he des cry an’ cry. Ned Dog try ter stay wid ’im much es he kin; but when he see Mister Man an’ de little boy settin’ off down de road on Miss Race Hoss an’ de little colt, his foots des nachelly go bookety! bookety! b’hime ’im ’d’out knowin’ it. His heart tell him ter g’long back an’ stay wid Billy, but his foots say dey ain’t er gwine do no sich er thing. ’Cose he cudn’t hep ’esse’f ef his foots ’fuse ter take ’im home. Atter while, when he gits back, Billy done cry ’esse’f plum sick. He say he don’t see howcum he tied up an’ Ned Dog ain’t; an’ Ned Dog say he don’t neether; ’caze you see Ned think Billy’s er dog an’ Billy think ’esse’f er dog, too. Dat’s de way wid some fokes. Heap uv ’em thinks dey’s big dogs when dey ain’t nuthin’ but er old goat!” Mammy concluded with emphasis.

“Go on, Mammy,” demanded Willis, pushing her hand off of the curl she was trying to straighten.

“Ain’t dat ernuf? I done prove’ you kin make er goat outen dat Noah’s ark dog.”

“Yes, but I want the little boy ter let Billy loose.”

“Well, his ma’ll give him er spankin’ ef he do. Dat boy darsent ter tech dat tetter. Long ’bout atter dinner time, Ned he git so miserbul lis’nin’ ter Billy hollerin’ dat he ’gun ter gnaw an’ pull at de stob; den he try ter scratch it up; but it was too deep; so he take an’ go ter pullin’ at de rope ergin’; an’ bimeby de knot come off. He ketch de knot in his teef and den he tell Billy ter g’long whar he’s er mind ter. Billy kick up es b’hime legs an’ fly down de road wid Ned Dog b’hime him holdin’ on ter de rope. Billy he eat all ’long de road, an’ Ned Dog foll’r ’long b’hime wharsomever Billy choose ter go, ’caze yer see Ned feel de ’sponsibility er loosin’ Billy. Atter while, Ned Dog beg Billy ter come on an’ go home! He tell ’im his jaws nigh ’bout broke clampin’ on dat knot. But Billy say he ain’t er gwine, tell he eat ’esse’f plum full er dem flow’r buds. No, Lawd, Billy ain’t thinkin’ bout Ned long es he kin joy es own sef. Ned he ’gun ter howl an’ bark wid de jaw ache, but Billy too full er ’esse’f ter notice Ned. Yes, Lawd, Billy des like some fokes I knows, too.”

“Me, Mammy?” demanded the intent little boy.

“Yes, I speck de cap fit you er heap er times, but you wusn’t de pusson I had m’ mine on des den,” replied Mammy complacently. “Billy keep er gwine on, an’ Ned des er draggin’ ’esse’f erlong wid de jaw ache tell bimeby, dey comes ter de old log fence ’roun’ de pastur’. Billy he try ter jump de fence, but Ned he crawl thu; but yer see Billy can’t jump high ernuf ’caze Ned’s pullin’ de rope on de uther side, so Billy gits tangled up on one er de rails. Ned he run back when he see Billy’s hangin’; but he gits back thu er diffunt hole ergin, an’ dat twistes de rope so tight dat Billy gits in er mouty bad fix ’fo’ you knows it. He ’gun ter blate an’ holl’r an’ Ned drop’ de rope an’ ’gun ter howl; but dat nuv’r done no good, an’ it nuv’r do, do no good in dis woel.”

“What, Mammy?”

“Jes’ ter stan’ up an’ holler an’ cry like you does sometimes! You got ter go ter work an’ do sumthin’ ef you ’specks ter ontangle yo’se’f in dis woel’, an’ dat’s whut come ’cross Ned’s mind atter he stan’ up an’ holler hisse’f hoarse. He lope out an’ run home, he do, an’ he bark at Mister Man an’ run out to’ards de road. He bark’ at de lit’le boy an’ run out ergin; but none uv ’em can’t make out howcum he act so cur’us. He run out in de back yard an’ howl an’ bark, an’ de lit’le colt ax him whut ails him, he tell ’im Billy’s mos’ chok’d ter death, hangin’ on de pastur’ fence. De colt give er jump ov’r de back fence an’ him an’ Ned take out, jes’ er t’arin’ down de big road. De lit’le boy an’ Mister Man seed de colt break loose an’ dey flew atter him an’ all uv ’em got ter Billy jes’ in time ter keep ’im fum chokin’ ter death.”

“Did Billy die?” asked the little boy in anxiety.

“Nor, honey, ’caze he nuv’r had rope ernuf; but ef he had er had er little mo’ rope him an’ all de uther foolish folks like ’im wud er bin dead long ergo!”