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!"
Pigs is Pigs Page 3
