"PIGS IS PIGS"

By Ellis Parker Butler

Mike Flannery, the Westcote agent of the Interurban Express Company, leaned over the counter of the express office and shook his fist. Mr. Morehouse, angry and red, stood on the other side of the counter, trembling with rage. The argument had been long and heated, and at lastMr. Morehouse had talked himself speechless. The cause of the troublestood on the counter between the two men. It was a soap box acrossthe top of which were nailed a number of strips, forming a rough butserviceable cage. In it two spotted guinea-pigs were greedily eatinglettuce leaves. 

"Do as you loike, then!" shouted Flannery, "pay for thim an' takethim, or don't pay for thim and leave thim be. Rules is rules, MistherMorehouse, an' Mike Flannery's not goin' to be called down fer breakin'of thim. "

"But, you everlastingly stupid idiot!" shouted Mr. Morehouse, madlyshaking a flimsy printed book beneath the agent's nose, "can't you readit here-in your own plain printed rates? 'Pets, domestic, Franklin toWestcote, if properly boxed, twenty-five cents each. '" He threw the bookon the counter in disgust. "What more do you want? Aren't they pets?Aren't they domestic? Aren't they properly boxed? What?"

He turned and walked back and forth rapidly; frowning ferociously. 

Suddenly he turned to Flannery, and forcing his voice to an artificialcalmness spoke slowly but with intense sarcasm. 

"Pets, " he said "P-e-t-s! Twenty-five cents each. There are two of them. One! Two! Two times twenty-five are fifty! Can you understand that? Ioffer you fifty cents. "

Flannery reached for the book. He ran his hand through the pages andstopped at page sixty four. 

"An' I don't take fifty cints, " he whispered in mockery. "Here's therule for ut. 'Whin the agint be in anny doubt regardin' which of tworates applies to a shipment, he shall charge the larger. The con-sign-eymay file a claim for the overcharge. ' In this case, Misther Morehouse, I be in doubt. Pets thim animals may be, an' domestic they be, but pigsI'm blame sure they do be, an' me rules says plain as the nose onyer face, 'Pigs Franklin to Westcote, thirty cints each. ' An' MisterMorehouse, by me arithmetical knowledge two times thurty comes to sixtycints. "

Mr. Morehouse shook his head savagely. "Nonsense!" he shouted, "confounded nonsense, I tell you! Why, you poor ignorant foreigner, thatrule means common pigs, domestic pigs, not guinea pigs!"

Flannery was stubborn. 

"Pigs is pigs, " he declared firmly. "Guinea-pigs, or dago pigs or Irishpigs is all the same to the Interurban Express Company an' to MikeFlannery. Th' nationality of the pig creates no differentiality in therate, Misther Morehouse! 'Twould be the same was they Dutch pigs orRooshun pigs. Mike Flannery, " he added, "is here to tind to the exprissbusiness and not to hould conversation wid dago pigs in sivinteenlanguages fer to discover be they Chinese or Tipperary by birth an'nativity. "

Mr. Morehouse hesitated. He bit his lip and then flung out his armswildly. 

"Very well!" he shouted, "you shall hear of this! Your president shallhear of this! It is an outrage! I have offered you fifty cents. Yourefuse it! Keep the pigs until you are ready to take the fifty cents, but, by George, sir, if one hair of those pigs' heads is harmed I willhave the law on you!"

He turned and stalked out, slamming the door. Flannery carefully liftedthe soap box from the counter and placed it in a corner. He was notworried. He felt the peace that comes to a faithful servant who has donehis duty and done it well. 

Mr. Morehouse went home raging. His boy, who had been awaiting theguinea-pigs, knew better than to ask him for them. He was a normal boyand therefore always had a guilty conscience when his father wasangry. So the boy slipped quietly around the house. There is nothing sosoothing to a guilty conscience as to be out of the path of the avenger. Mr. Morehouse stormed into the house. "Where's the ink?" he shouted athis wife as soon as his foot was across the doorsill. 

Mrs. Morehouse jumped, guiltily. She never used ink. She had not seenthe ink, nor moved the ink, nor thought of the ink, but her husband'stone convicted her of the guilt of having borne and reared a boy, andshe knew that whenever her husband wanted anything in a loud voice theboy had been at it. 

"I'll find Sammy, " she said meekly. 

When the ink was found Mr. Morehouse wrote rapidly, and he read thecompleted letter and smiled a triumphant smile. 

"That will settle that crazy Irishman!" he exclaimed. "When they getthat letter he will hunt another job, all right!"

A week later Mr. Morehouse received a long official envelope with thecard of the Interurban Express Company in the upper left corner. He toreit open eagerly and drew out a sheet of paper. At the top it bore thenumber A6754. The letter was short. "Subject--Rate on guinea-pigs, "it said, "Dr. Sir--We are in receipt of your letter regarding rate onguinea-pigs between Franklin and Westcote addressed to the presidentof this company. All claims for overcharge should be addressed to theClaims Department. "

Mr. Morehouse wrote to the Claims Department. He wrote six pages ofchoice sarcasm, vituperation and argument, and sent them to the ClaimsDepartment. 

A few weeks later he received a reply from the Claims Department. Attached to it was his last letter. 

"Dr. Sir, " said the reply. "Your letter of the 16th inst. , addressed tothis Department, subject rate on guinea-pigs from Franklin to Westcote, ree'd. We have taken up the matter with our agent at Westcote, and hisreply is attached herewith. He informs us that you refused to receivethe consignment or to pay the charges. You have therefore no claimagainst this company, and your letter regarding the proper rate on theconsignment should be addressed to our Tariff Department. "

Mr. Morehouse wrote to the Tariff Department. He stated his caseclearly, and gave his arguments in full, quoting a page or two from theencyclopedia to prove that guinea-pigs were not common pigs. 

With the care that characterizes corporations when they aresystematically conducted, Mr. Morehouse's letter was numbered, O. K'd, and started through the regular channels. Duplicate copies of the billof lading, manifest, Flannery's receipt for the package and severalother pertinent papers were pinned to the letter, and they were passedto the head of the Tariff Department. 

The head of the Tariff Department put his feet on his desk and yawned. He looked through the papers carelessly. 

"Miss Kane, " he said to his stenographer, "take this letter. 'Agent, Westcote, N. J. Please advise why consignment referred to in attachedpapers was refused domestic pet rates. "'

Miss Kane made a series of curves and angles on her note book and waitedwith pencil poised. The head of the department looked at the papersagain. 

"Huh! guinea-pigs!" he said. "Probably starved to death by this time!Add this to that letter: 'Give condition of consignment at present. '"

He tossed the papers on to the stenographer's desk, took his feet fromhis own desk and went out to lunch. 

When Mike Flannery received the letter he scratched his head. 

"Give prisint condition, " he repeated thoughtfully. "Now what do thimclerks be wantin' to know, I wonder! 'Prisint condition, 'is ut? Thimpigs, praise St. Patrick, do be in good health, so far as I know, but Iniver was no veternairy surgeon to dago pigs. Mebby thim clerks wantsme to call in the pig docther an' have their pulses took. Wan thing Ido know, howiver, which is they've glorious appytites for pigs of theirsoize. Ate? They'd ate the brass padlocks off of a barn door I If thepaddy pig, by the same token, ate as hearty as these dago pigs do, there'd be a famine in Ireland. "

To assure himself that his report would be up to date, Flannery wentto the rear of the office and looked into the cage. The pigs had beentransferred to a larger box--a dry goods box. 

"Wan, -- two, -- t'ree, -- four, -- five, -- six, -- sivin, -- eight!"he counted. "Sivin spotted an' wan all black. All well an' hearty an'all eatin' loike ragin' hippypottymusses. He went back to his desk andwrote. 

"Mr. Morgan, Head of Tariff Department, " he wrote. "Why do I say dagopigs is pigs because they is pigs and will be til you say they ain'twhich is what the rule book says stop your jollying me you know it aswell as I do. As to health they are all well and hoping you are thesame. P. S. There are eight now the family increased all good eaters. P. S. I paid out so far two dollars for cabbage which they like shall I putin bill for same what?"

Morgan, head of the Tariff Department, when he received this letter, laughed. He read it again and became serious. 

"By George!" he said, "Flannery is right, 'pigs is pigs. ' I'll have toget authority on this thing. Meanwhile, Miss Kane, take this letter:Agent, Westcote, N. J. Regarding shipment guinea-pigs, File No. A6754. Rule 83, General Instruction to Agents, clearly states that agentsshall collect from consignee all costs of provender, etc. , etc. , required for live stock while in transit or storage. You will proceed tocollect same from consignee. "

Flannery received this letter next morning, and when he read it hegrinned. 

"Proceed to collect, " he said softly. "How thim clerks do loike to betalkin'! Me proceed to collect two dollars and twinty-foive cints offMisther Morehouse! I wonder do thim clerks know Misther Morehouse?I'll git it! Oh, yes! 'Misther Morehouse, two an' a quarter, plaze. ''Cert'nly, me dear frind Flannery. Delighted!' Not!"

Flannery drove the express wagon to Mr. Morehouse's door. Mr. Morehouseanswered the bell. 

"Ah, ha!" he cried as soon as he saw it was Flannery. "So you've come toyour senses at last, have you? I thought you would! Bring the box in. "

"I hev no box, " said Flannery coldly. "I hev a bill agin Misther JohnC. Morehouse for two dollars and twinty-foive cints for kebbages aten byhis dago pigs. Wud you wish to pay ut?"

"Pay--Cabbages--!" gasped Mr. Morehouse. "Do you mean to say that twolittle guinea-pigs--"

"Eight!" said Flannery. "Papa an' mamma an' the six childer. Eight!"

For answer Mr. Morehouse slammed the door in Flannery's face. Flannerylooked at the door reproachfully. 

"I take ut the con-sign-y don't want to pay for thim kebbages, " he said. "If I know signs of refusal, the con-sign-y refuses to pay for wan dangkebbage leaf an' be hanged to me!"

Mr. Morgan, the head of the Tariff Department, consulted the presidentof the Interurban Express Company regarding guinea-pigs, as to whetherthey were pigs or not pigs. The president was inclined to treat thematter lightly. 

"What is the rate on pigs and on pets?" he asked. 

"Pigs thirty cents, pets twenty-five, " said Morgan. 

"Then of course guinea-pigs are pigs, " said the president. 

"Yes, " agreed Morgan, "I look at it that way, too. A thing that can comeunder two rates is naturally due to be classed as the higher. But areguinea-pigs, pigs? Aren't they rabbits?"

"Come to think of it, " said the president, "I believe they are more likerabbits. Sort of half-way station between pig and rabbit. I think thequestion is this--are guinea-pigs of the domestic pig family? I'll askprofessor Gordon. He is authority on such things. Leave the papers withme. "

The president put the papers on his desk and wrote a letter to ProfessorGordon. Unfortunately the Professor was in South America collectingzoological specimens, and the letter was forwarded to him by his wife. As the Professor was in the highest Andes, where no white man had everpenetrated, the letter was many months in reaching him. The presidentforgot the guinea-pigs, Morgan forgot them, Mr. Morehouse forgot them, but Flannery did not. One-half of his time he gave to the duties ofhis agency; the other half was devoted to the guinea-pigs. Long beforeProfessor Gordon received the president's letter Morgan received onefrom Flannery. 

"About them dago pigs, " it said, "what shall I do they are great infamily life, no race suicide for them, there are thirty-two now shallI sell them do you take this express office for a menagerie, answerquick. "

Morgan reached for a telegraph blank and wrote:

"Agent, Westcote. Don't sell pigs. "

He then wrote Flannery a letter calling his attention to the fact thatthe pigs were not the property of the company but were merely being heldduring a settlement of a dispute regarding rates. He advised Flannery totake the best possible care of them. 

Flannery, letter in hand, looked at the pigs and sighed. The dry-goodsbox cage had become too small. He boarded up twenty feet of the rearof the express office to make a large and airy home for them, and wentabout his business. He worked with feverish intensity when out on hisrounds, for the pigs required attention and took most of his time. Somemonths later, in desperation, he seized a sheet of paper and wrote"160" across it and mailed it to Morgan. Morgan returned it asking forexplanation. Flannery replied:

"There be now one hundred sixty of them dago pigs, for heavens sake letme sell off some, do you want me to go crazy, what. "

"Sell no pigs, " Morgan wired. 

Not long after this the president of the express company received aletter from Professor Gordon. It was a long and scholarly letter, butthe point was that the guinea-pig was the Cava aparoea while the commonpig was the genius Sus of the family Suidae. He remarked that they wereprolific and multiplied rapidly. 

"They are not pigs, " said the president, decidedly, to Morgan. "Thetwenty-five cent rate applies. "

Morgan made the proper notation on the papers that had accumulated inFile A6754, and turned them over to the Audit Department. The AuditDepartment took some time to look the matter up, and after the usualdelay wrote Flannery that as he had on hand one hundred and sixtyguinea-pigs, the property of consignee, he should deliver them andcollect charges at the rate of twenty-five cents each. 

Flannery spent a day herding his charges through a narrow opening intheir cage so that he might count them. 

"Audit Dept. " he wrote, when he had finished the count, "you are way offthere may be was one hundred and sixty dago pigs once, but wake up don'tbe a back number. I've got even eight hundred, now shall I collectfor eight hundred or what, how about sixty-four dollars I paid out forcabbages. "

It required a great many letters back and forth before the AuditDepartment was able to understand why the error had been made of billingone hundred and sixty instead of eight hundred, and still more time forit to get the meaning of the "cabbages. "

Flannery was crowded into a few feet at the extreme front of theoffice. The pigs had all the rest of the room and two boys were employedconstantly attending to them. The day after Flannery had counted theguinea-pigs there were eight more added to his drove, and by the timethe Audit Department gave him authority to collect for eight hundredFlannery had given up all attempts to attend to the receipt or thedelivery of goods. He was hastily building galleries around the expressoffice, tier above tier. He had four thousand and sixty-four guinea-pigsto care for! More were arriving daily. 

Immediately following its authorization the Audit Department sentanother letter, but Flannery was too busy to open it. They wrote anotherand then they telegraphed:

"Error in guinea-pig bill. Collect for two guinea-pigs, fifty cents. Deliver all to consignee. "

Flannery read the telegram and cheered up. He wrote out a bill asrapidly as his pencil could travel over paper and ran all the way to theMorehouse home. At the gate he stopped suddenly. The house stared athim with vacant eyes. The windows were bare of curtains and he could seeinto the empty rooms. A sign on the porch said, "To Let. " Mr. Morehousehad moved! Flannery ran all the way back to the express office. Sixty-nine guinea-pigs had been born during his absence. He ran outagain and made feverish inquiries in the village. Mr. Morehouse had notonly moved, but he had left Westcote. Flannery returned to the expressoffice and found that two hundred and six guinea-pigs had entered theworld since he left it. He wrote a telegram to the Audit Department. 

"Can't collect fifty cents for two dago pigs consignee has left townaddress unknown what shall I do? Flannery. "

The telegram was handed to one of the clerks in the Audit Department, and as he read it he laughed. 

"Flannery must be crazy. He ought to know that the thing to do is toreturn the consignment here, " said the clerk. He telegraphed Flannery tosend the pigs to the main office of the company at Franklin. 

When Flannery received the telegram he set to work. The six boys hehad engaged to help him also set to work. They worked with the haste ofdesperate men, making cages out of soap boxes, cracker boxes, and allkinds of boxes, and as fast as the cages were completed they filled themwith guinea-pigs and expressed them to Franklin. Day after day the cagesof guineapigs flowed in a steady stream from Westcote to Franklin, and still Flannery and his six helpers ripped and nailed andpacked--relentlessly and feverishly. At the end of the week they hadshipped two hundred and eighty cases of guinea-pigs, and there were inthe express office seven hundred and four more pigs than when they beganpacking them. 

"Stop sending pigs. Warehouse full, " came a telegram to Flannery. Hestopped packing only long enough to wire back, "Can't stop, " and kepton sending them. On the next train up from Franklin came one ofthe company's inspectors. He had instructions to stop the stream ofguinea-pigs at all hazards. As his train drew up at Westcote stationhe saw a cattle car standing on the express company's siding. When hereached the express office he saw the express wagon backed up to thedoor. Six boys were carrying bushel baskets full of guinea-pigs from theoffice and dumping them into the wagon. Inside the room Flannery, with'his coat and vest off, was shoveling guinea-pigs into bushel basketswith a coal scoop. He was winding up the guinea-pig episode. 

He looked up at the inspector with a snort of anger. 

"Wan wagonload more an, I'll be quit of thim, an' niver will ye catchFlannery wid no more foreign pigs on his hands. No, sur! They near wasthe death o' me. Nixt toime I'll know that pigs of whaiver nationalityis domistic pets--an' go at the lowest rate. "

He began shoveling again rapidly, speaking quickly between breaths. 

"Rules may be rules, but you can't fool Mike Flannery twice wid the samethrick--whin ut comes to live stock, dang the rules. So long as Flanneryruns this expriss office--pigs is pets--an' cows is pets--an' horsesis pets--an' lions an' tigers an' Rocky Mountain goats is pets--an' therate on thim is twinty-foive cints. "

He paused long enough to let one of the boys put an empty basket in theplace of the one he had just filled. There were only a few guinea-pigsleft. As he noted their limited number his natural habit of looking onthe bright side returned. 

"Well, annyhow, " he said cheerfully, "'tis not so bad as ut might be. What if thim dago pigs had been elephants!"