the Billy Goat Team, two carrot cents for yourself, and three carrot cents for each passenger,” answered the old lady duck.
“Dear me,” whined the Old Dog Driver, “it will take some time to count it all up. How will a lettuce leaf dollar bill suit you?”
“Won’t do,” answered the old lady duck. My, wasn’t she particular, though?
“Well then, let’s start counting,” sighed the Old Dog Driver. “You count those on top and I’ll count those inside, and who gets done first, wins.”
“Wins what?” asked the old Lady Duck.
“A Little Jack Rabbit Book,” laughed the Old Dog Driver. “I have one in my pocket for your little grand duckling. Hurry up and win.”
Then, goodness me! How that lady duck did count! In less than five hundred short seconds she had finished and the Old Dog Driver had only just begun.
Well, sir, when it came to pay, the toll was more than a lettuce leaf dollar bill. Dear me, yes. But what it was I won’t bother to tell you, for I haven’t had time to count the passengers. Have you?
As soon as the toll gate swung open, over the bridge, pranced the billy goats, rapperty rap, rapperty rap, and before very long they were galloping up a steep hill, for those billy goats didn’t mind that. No, siree! They were used to climbing mountains and, besides, everybody was singing: “I want to go to the Circus, To see the elephants dance. I want to run round the sawdust ring In my very best Sunday pants.”I’m crazy to sip the pink lemonade,
 Oh, get me in time for the Big Parade!
 Oh, hurry up faster, for I am afraid
 I’ll surely go crazy if we are delayed!”My goodness! how that Billy Goat Coach rolled over the pebbles and
over the stones. And how those billy goats pranced and threw out
their heels, shook their heads and their long horns.“Gid-ap!” barked the Old Dog Driver.“Let ’er go!” shouted dear Uncle Lucky.Away, faster than ever, and faster still, went the billy goats up the
big steep hill, and down the other side to Rabbitville.Along Lettuce Avenue they clattered, past the Three-in-One Cent
Store, past the Welsh Rarebit Club and the Post Office, from the
doorway of which the Old Maid Grasshopper waved a white pocket
handkerchief; past the Old Mill where the Dusty Moth Miller ground
the corn for the farmer bunnies; past the house of Dr. Quack, the
famous duck doctor, and the little green house in which Mrs. Mouse
lived.Dear me! I could go on and on just like the old coach, and say so
much that I’d have no room to put in what happened when it finally
drew up in Turnip City.“Whoa there, my good little billy goats!” shouted the Old Dog Driver,
as the big Policeman Dog held up his paw to stop the taxis and wagons
until everybody was safe on the sidewalk. Then the Old Dog Driver
gave the billy goats a nice drink of water at the fountain and drove

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