The Water Goats, and Other TroublesButler, Ellis Parker
General
The Water Goats, and Other Troubles
Butler, Ellis Parker
Fiction; Humorous stories; Short stories, American
“But we are not so silly as that,” said the other father. “We will stay
right here and wait until they come down.”
At that Lemuel and I settled ourselves more comfortably, for there was
nothing else to do. I cursed inwardly as I felt the minutes slip by and
knew that half-past six had come and gone, but I was sure you would not
like to have me desert those two poor lovers who were fighting to ward
off the statistics, so I sat still and silent. So did Lemuel.
I do not know how long I sat there, for it was already dark in the
narrow stairway, but it must have been a long time. I drowsed off, and
I was finally awakened by Lemuel tugging at my sleeve, and I knew that
Henry had managed to start the elevator again. Lemuel and I hastened our
steps, and just as the elevator was coming into sight below the second
floor we were seen by the two fathers. For an instant they hesitated,
and then they seized us. At the same time the elevator door opened and
Henry and Madge came out, and the two fathers hardly glanced at them as
they went out of the door into the street.
As soon as I saw that they were safe I feigned great indignation, and so
did Lemuel.
“Unhand me, sir!” I cried. “Who do you think I am? I am a respectable
married lady, leaving the building with her husband. Unhand me!”
Instead of doing so, however, the father that had me by the arm drew me
nearer to the hall light. As he did so he stared closely at my face.
“Morgan,” he said to the other father, “this is not my daughter. My
daughter did not have a moustache.”
“Indeed, I am not your daughter,” I said; “I am a respectable married
lady, and here is the proof.”
With that I reached for the package Madge had given me, but it was in my
coat-pocket, underneath the dress I had on, and it was only with great
difficulty and by raising one side of the skirt that I was able to get
it. I unwrapped it and showed it to the father that had me by the arm.
It was the patent nursing-bottle.
When Mr. Billings had finished his relation his wife sat for a moment in
silence. Then she said:
“And he let you go?”
“Yes, of course,” said Mr. Billings; “he could not hold me after such
proof as that, and Lemuel ran me up to my office, where I changed my
hat and took off the dress. I knew it was late, and I did not know
what train I could catch, but I made haste, and, on the way down in the
elevator, I felt in my pocket to see if I had my commutation ticket,
when my hand struck the patent nursing-bottle. My first impulse was to
drop it in the car, but on second thought I decided to keep it, for
I knew that when you saw it and heard the story you would understand
perfectly why I was detained last night.”
“Yes?” said Mrs. Billings questioningly. “But, my dear, all that does
not account for these.”
As she said that she drew from her workbasket the three auburn-red
curls.
“Oh, those!” said Mr. Billings, after a momentary hesitation. “I was
about to tell you about those.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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