But he wasn't joking when he came home at noon. He turned in at the front gate and the goat blocked his passage. The Cadaras had been willing to let the goat call upon the Doanes and graze while calling. "Get out of my way!" called Joe Doane in a surly way not like Joe Doane. "Pa!" said young Joe in an awed whisper, "it's a _government_ goat." "What do I care if it is?" retorted his father. "_Damn_ the government goat!" Every one fell back, as when blasphemy--as when treason--have been uttered. These Portuguese kids looking at _him_ like that--as if _they_ were part of the government and he outside. He was so mad that he bawled at Tony Cadara, "To _hell_ with your government goat!" From her side of the fence, Mrs. Cadara called, "Tony, you bring the goat right home," as one who calls her child--and her goat--away from evil. "And keep her there!" finished Joe Doane. The Doanes ate their meal in stricken silence. Finally Doane burst out, "What's the matter with you all? Such a fuss about the orderin' off of a _goat_." "It's a _government_ goat," lisped Edgar. "It's a _government_ goat," repeated his wife in a tense voice. "What do you mean--government goat? There's no such animal." But it seemed there was, the Cadaras had, not only the goat, but a book about the goat. The book was from the government. The government had raised the goat and had singled the Cadaras out as a family upon whom a government goat should be conferred. The Cadaras held her in trust for the government. Meanwhile they drank her milk. "Tony Cadara said, if I'd dig clams for him this afternoon he'd let me help milk her to-night," said young Joe. This was too much. "Ain't you kids got no _spine_? Kowtowing to them Portuguese because a few folks that's sorry for them have made them presents. They're _ginnies_. You're Doanes." "I want a goat!" wailed Edgar. His father got up from the table. "The children are all right," said his wife, in her patient voice that made you impatient. "It's natural for them to want a few of the things they see other children having." He'd get _away_! As he went through the shed he saw his line and picked it up. He'd go out on the breakwater--maybe he'd get some fish, at least have some peace. The breakwater wasn't very far down the beach from his house. He used to go out there every once in a while. Every once in a while he had a feeling he had to get by himself. It was half a mile long and of big rocks that had big gaps. You had to do some climbing--you could imagine you were in the mountains--and that made you feel far off and different. Only when the tide came in, the sea filled the gaps--then you had to "watch your step."