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The church clerk stood in the choir door and
led the singing; one of his arms was of no use;
I had heard of that. All at once there in the
open church door stood a goat. I wonder
what’s going to happen now, thought I.
The goat turned his head first one way, then
the other,—then as true as you live he came
pattering in. Patter, patter, sounded short
and sharp over the church floor. Every one
turned to look, and the singing died away, little
by little, but no one got up to put the goat out.
Farther and farther up towards the choir
pattered the goat. Suddenly the clerk saw him.
For a moment he looked terribly bewildered,
then very thoughtfully he laid his psalm-book
aside and walked down the aisle.
Then you should have seen the clerk
engi-neer the goat out with his one arm. He had
hold of one horn, and the goat resisted, and the
clerk shoved, and so, little by little, they
worked themselves down the church. Oh, I
shall never forget it!
The singing stopped altogether, except that
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