The Daily Dispatch: August 17, 1863., [Electronic resource]

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Death from Dissipation.

--Frequenters of the Powhatan Hotel all remember a venerable goat of the male persuasion which stood sentinel at the back porch — a most remarkable animal, that took his chew of tobacco, knocked small boys down the steps, and in other ways imitated that noble animal, man. Recently he acquired the habit of taking his "tod," and would go up every morning to a boarder's room, where he was welcome, and take his morning invigorator. If his friend did not get up to do the honors the goat would testify his displeasure by pulling off the bed clothes and butting things around generally. He would often get so tight that he would fall down stairs. Of course this reckless life on the part of a respectable goat could have but one termination, and that was death, and Billy, taking that view of the case, laid down on Saturday and yielded up his life in a quiet and gentleman-like manner. His spirit fled to that goat receptacle of goats where there is very little tobacco and no toddy. The chief mourners on the occasion were a one-eyed rooster and a terrier. The former took a brief but melancholy survey of the defunct, and went on chasing a grasshopper that was making a living in the vicinity. Such is life.