The Water Goats, and Other Troubles

In Short

This volume presents a series of humorous short stories centered on the frantic, often surreal predicaments of ordinary men. Whether it is a bumbling city council attempting to beautify a park with non-existent "water goats" or a suburban husband constructing elaborate mechanical traps to thwart burglars, the characters are defined by their persistent, earnest attempts to manage impossible situations. Characterized by a droll wit and a penchant for the preposterous, these tales endure as a snapshot of early 20th-century American suburban anxiety, elevated through the author's mastery of the escalating comic blunder.

The Story

The narrative journey begins in the town of Jeffersonville, where Mayor Dugan and his city council, desperate to improve their political standing, commission a new park. Driven by a misunderstanding of a landscape gardener’s advice, Alderman Toole becomes obsessed with procuring "dongolas"—a mythical, water-proof variety of goat supposedly suited for the park's lake. Toole’s ignorance is compounded by a local tavern owner who feeds him nonsense, leading Toole to order two common, miserable goats from his cousin in an Iowa zoo. When the goats arrive, they display a profound, stubborn hatred for water, forcing Toole and his appointed "Keeper of the Water Goats," Tim Fagan, into a series of increasingly frantic, futile attempts to force the animals to swim. The goats eventually perish from their ordeals, leaving the council to hide the evidence and scramble to save face as the park's opening looms.

The focus then shifts to the domestic life of Mr. Rollin Billings, a man whose seemingly quiet suburban existence is a magnet for bizarre entanglements. After returning home in the early hours of the morning, Billings is confronted by his wife, who has discovered strange items in his pockets—a nursing bottle, red curls, and acorns. His explanation is a whirlwind of altruism gone wrong: he recounts a night spent helping a young couple evade their overbearing fathers, aiding a homeless woman and her starving infant, and accidentally becoming embroiled in the troubles of a stranded chauffeur. Billings presents himself as a man of steady, fatherly character, despite the chaos that follows him.

Finally, the collection explores Billings’s inventive approach to home security. Driven by his wife's fear of burglars and his own desire to avoid the messiness of violence, he installs an elaborate "silver-elevator"—a motorized system of tracks and pulleys designed to move family silver between floors. When a burglar inevitably breaks in, Billings treats the event as an exercise in mechanical ingenuity rather than a crime. He uses the elevator to lead the thief on a relentless, exhausting chase up and down the house's stairs. By the time the burglar is caught, the man has run himself into a state of total physical exhaustion, having literally lost over a hundred pounds in the process. The story concludes with the suburban protagonist returning to sleep, satisfied that his cleverness has resolved the threat without damaging his rugs.

How It Unfolds

The council's folly Mayor Dugan and his associates, seeking to salvage their reputations, blindly agree to purchase "dongolas" for a public park. They rely entirely on the misplaced confidence of Alderman Toole, who creates an elaborate, fabricated history for the beasts.

The water goat ordeal Toole and Fagan attempt to force the terrified, land-bound goats into the park’s lake, ignoring the animals' clear distress. As the situation spirals, Toole frantically exchanges telegrams with his cousin, receiving increasingly useless advice about "soaking" the creatures to improve their swimming.

The death of the dream The goats succumb to the repeated, forced immersions, and the panicked men must hide the bodies before the public arrives. The grand plan for the park collapses into a quiet, desperate cover-up.

Billings's midnight escapade Mr. Billings arrives home at 3:00 a.m. with his pockets full of oddities, setting the stage for a long-winded, defensive explanation to his wife. He weaves a tale of noble, if improbable, interventions that kept him out all night.

The burglar trap The final narrative centers on the innovative home security system Billings installs to protect his silver from thieves. He outsmarts an intruder not with a weapon, but with a pulley system that turns his home into an exhausting, multi-story treadmill.

The People

Alderman Toole is the driving force behind the park’s absurdity. He is a man of limited knowledge but boundless, unearned confidence, whose desire to appear important leads him to invent a reality for the "dongola" that he eventually believes himself. Mayor Dugan serves as his foil—equally corrupt and equally ignorant, he relies on Toole to handle the practical matters of the park, only to be left holding the bag when the plan fails.

Mr. Rollin Billings stands in stark contrast to the bumbling politicians. He is a self-assured, fastidious suburbanite who frames his own chaotic adventures as the natural result of his calm, benevolent nature. He is a man who treats his wife’s suspicion with a polite, detached air of moral superiority, maintaining his own narrative of virtue regardless of the evidence found in his pockets. Together, these figures illustrate a world where authority and normalcy are constantly threatened by the sheer, stubborn persistence of human foolishness.

In Its Own Voice

“Wan minute ago I knew as well anny other man what a dongola is like, an' now I have no mimory of anny dongolas at all.”

Toole justifies his confusion about the mythical goat by blaming the tavern owner’s drink for robbing him of his knowledge.

“Until burglarizing is properly regulated and burglars are educated, as they should be, in technical burglary schools, we cannot hope that a shot burglar will staunch his wound until he can find a red rug to lie down on.”

Billings explains his aversion to shooting intruders, revealing his absurdly bureaucratic approach to home defense.

What It's Really About

At its core, the book examines the thin veneer of competence that people project to mask their profound ignorance. Whether it is the political "ring" in Jeffersonville or the domestic strategist Billings, the characters are united by their refusal to admit they are out of their depth. The stories argue that when human ego meets an impossible or misunderstood situation, the result is rarely a measured response; instead, it is an escalation of absurdity. Through the lens of humor, the text questions the value of "expertise" in a world where a well-told lie—or a sufficiently complicated machine—is often mistaken for genuine intelligence or moral rectitude.

Why Read It Today

This collection is best suited for readers who enjoy the droll, observational humor of the early 20th century, where characters speak in a clipped, earnest rhythm and scenarios are built on a foundation of "what if" absurdity. The stories feel like refined, elongated versions of the tall tales found in turn-of-the-century newspapers.

Readers should be prepared for the heavy use of Irish-American dialect in the Jeffersonville stories, which reflects the author's period but may require a moment of adjustment. Additionally, the casual approach to political corruption and the dismissive attitude toward domestic distress are products of the era. However, for those who appreciate a narrative that treats the most preposterous events with total, deadpan gravity, this book is a treasure. It lingers in the mind not for deep philosophical insight, but for its sharp, precise depiction of the human tendency to double down on a bad idea until it becomes a catastrophe. It remains a masterclass in comic pacing, particularly in the way Billings describes his burglar trap with the calm, precise tone of a man explaining an everyday household chore.