ing, Mrs. Bobbsey saw a postal
card that made her smile as she read it.

"What's it about, Momsie?" asked Freddie, when he noticed his mother's
happy face. "Are we going back to New York?"

"No, but this postal has something to do with something that happened in
New York," was Mrs. Bobbsey's answer. "It is from the express company to
your father, and it says there is, at the express office, a----"

Just then Mrs. Bobbsey dropped the postal, and as Nan picked it up to
hand to her mother the little girl saw one word.

"Oh!" cried Nan, "it's a postal about a goat!"

"A--a goat?" gasped Flossie.

"A goat!" shouted Freddie. "A live goat?"

"Why--er--yes--I guess so," and Nan looked at the postal again.

"Oh, I know!" cried Freddie. "It's that goat I almost bought in New
York--Mike's goat! Oh, did daddy get a goat for us as he promised?"
asked the little boy of his mother.

CHAPTER V

A BUMPY RIDE

The Bobbsey twins--all four of them--stood in a circle about their
mother, looking eagerly at her and at the postal card which Nan had
handed to her. Freddie and Flossie were smiling expectantly while Nan
and Bert looked as though they were not quite sure whether or not it was
a joke.

"Is it really a goat, Mother?" asked Bert.

"Well, that's what this postal says," answered Mrs. Bobbsey. "A goat and
cart have arrived at the express office, and your father is asked to
come to get them and take them away."

"Course he's got to take 'em away," said Freddie. "The goat'll be hungry
there, for he can't get anything to eat."

"And he might butt somebody with his horns," added Flossie.

"Daddy wouldn't buy a butting goat," Freddie declared. "Anyhow, let's go
and get him. I want to have a ride."

"If there really is a goat outfit at the express office for us," said
Bert, "we'd better get it I think. I'll take the postal down to the
lumberyard office and ask daddy----"

"I'm going with you!" cried Freddie.

"I'm comin', too!" added Flossie.

"Suppose you all go," suggested Mrs. Bobbsey. "Your father will tell you
what to do, for I'm sure I don't know what to say. I never had a goat.
Four twins, a dog and a cat are about all I can manage," she said
laughingly, as fat Dinah came waddling into the room to ask what to
order from the grocery.

"A goat! Good lan' ob massy!" exclaimed the colored cook. "Dere suah
will be trouble if de honey lambs takes t' playin' wif goats! Um! Um!
Um! A goat! Oh, landy!"

"I