The officer goes on to say that “the same goat which threw the drummer accompanied the regiment into action at Bunker’s Hill, when the Welsh Fusileers had all their officers except one placed _hors de combat_. What became of the Bunker’s Hill goat, we do not know; nor can we say how many successors he had between the years 1775 and 1844. In the latter year the regimental goat died, and to compensate the Twenty-third for its loss, Her Majesty presented the regiment with two of the finest goats belonging to a flock--the gift of the Shah of Persia--in Windsor Park. Since that date the queen has continued to supply the Royal Welsh Fusileers with goats as occasion has required. Billy--‘Her Majesty’s Goat,’ as he is styled--bears between his horns a handsome silver shield or frontlet, surrounded by the Prince of Wales’ plumes and motto, with the inscription: ‘The gift of Her Majesty, Queen Victoria, to the Royal Welsh Fusileers. A. D., MDCCCXLVI. _Duw a Cadwo y Frenhines._’ [Illustration: THE WELSH FUSILEERS’ GOAT.] “Billy always marches at the head of his battalion, alongside of the drum-major.” From this account, it would almost seem as though Billy had a share in placing all his officers but one _hors de combat_ at Bunker’s Hill. If such was the case, then he undoubtedly contributed to the American victory on that occasion, and I do not see why a grateful nation should not place his portrait in the Old South. Billy as a corner-stone of American Independence--that is certainly a new side-light upon history! Of all creatures, the most unfit for war appear to be birds; yet they, too, have had their share of military vicissitudes and military fame. Geese have shown a genuine vocation for soldiering, and often have been seen waddling over a battle field with derisive composure, as though it were no more than a quarrelsome barnyard. The Romans honored them hardly less than their national eagle, ever after the geese of the Capitol gave the alarm, and enabled them to drive back the Gauls. If Rome was saved, to the geese was the glory! A modern goose for twenty-three years accompanied an Uhlan regiment, and yet another, Jacob by name, joined the Coldstream Guards in Canada. He had been living in the usual barnyard retirement of fowls when one evening, as he was returning home from a little trip outside, a fox gave chase. All would soon have been over with Jacob had he not spied a sentry near by and taken refuge between his feet. The fox was shot, and henceforth, so long as a sentry was stationed at this place, the grateful bird would join him on his beat. Some two months later he repaid his preserver by saving the latter’s life, when he in turn was attacked. Flying at the enemy, and beating his wings in their faces, he so disconcerted them that his friend was enabled to kill part and beat off the rest.