The two water goats stood at the side of the lake, wet and
mournful, tied to two strong stakes. They looked weary and meek,
for they had had a hard morning, but as soon as they saw Tim
Fagan they brightened up. They arose simultaneously on their hind
legs and their eyes glittered with deadly hatred. They strained
at their ropes, and then, suddenly, panic-stricken, they turned
and ran, bringing up at the ends of their ropes with a shock that
bent the stout stakes to which they were fastened. They stood
still and cowered, trembling.
"Lay hold!" commanded Toole. "Lay hold of a horn of th' brute
till I show ye how t' make him swim."
Through the fresh gravel of the beach the four feet of the
reluctant goat ploughed deep furrows. It shook its head from side
to side, but Toole and Fagan held it fast, and into the water it
went."
"Now!" cried Alderman Toole. "Git behind an' push, Tim! Wan!
Two! Three! Push!"
Alderman Toole released his hold and Keeper of the Water Goats
Fagan pushed. Then they tried the other goat. It was easier to
try the other water goat than to waste time hunting up the one
they had just tried, for it had gone away.
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