m
swim? I wonder does Cousin Mike take th' goat t' be a fish, or what?
I wonder does he take swimmin' to be wan of th' accomplishments of th'
goat?" He shook his head in puzzlement, and frowned at the telegram.
"Would he be havin' a goat regatta, I wonder, or was he expectin' th'
goat t' be a web-footed animal? 'Won't swim!' he repeated angrily.
'Won't swim!' An' what is it to me if they won't swim? Nayther would
I swim if I was a goat. 'Tis none of me affair if they will not swim.
There was nawthin' said about 'swimmin' goats.' Goats I can give him,
an' dongola goats I can give him, an jumpin' goats, an' climbin' goats,
an' walkin' goats, but 'tis not in me line t'furnish submarine goats.
No, nor goats t' fly up in th' air! Would anny one," he said with
exasperation, "would anny one that got a plain order for goats ixpict t'
have t' furnish goats that would hop up off th' earth an' make a balloon
ascension? 'Tis no fault of Dennis Toole's thim goats won't swim. What
will Mike be telegraphin' me nixt, I wonder? 'Dear Dennis: Th' goats
won't lay eggs. How do ye make thim?' Bye, have ye a piece of paper t'
write an answer t' me cousin Mike on?"

The Keeper of the Water Goats and Alderman Toole were sitting on a
rustic bench looking sadly at the water goats when the Jeffersonville
telegraph messenger brought them Dennis Toole's answer. Alderman Toole
grasped the envelope eagerly and tore it open, and Fagan leaned over his
shoulder as he read it:

"Michael Toole, Alderman, Jeffersonville," they read. "Put them in the
water and see if they will swim. Dennis Toole."

"Put thim in th' wather!" exclaimed Alderman Toole angrily. "Why don't
ye put thim in th' wather, Fagan? Why did ye not think t' put thim
in th' wather?" He looked down at his soaking clothes, and his anger
increased. "Why have ye been tryin' t' make thim dongolas swim on land,
Fagan?" he asked sarcastically. "Or have ye been throwin' thim up in th'
air t' see thim swim? Why don't ye put thim in th' wather? Why don't
ye follow th' instructions of th' expert dongola water goat man an' put
thim in th' wather if ye want thim t' swim?"

Fagan looked at the angry alderman. He looked at the dripping goats.

"So I did, Mike," he said seriously. "We both of us did."

"An' did we!" cried Alderman Toole in mock surprise. "Is it possible we
thought t' put thim in th' wather whin we wanted thim t' swim? It was in
me mind that we tied thim to a tree an' played ring-