The Project Gutenberg EBook of "Pigs is Pigs", by Ellis Parker Butler

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org

Title: "Pigs is Pigs"

Author: Ellis Parker Butler

Posting Date: October 30, 2008 [EBook #2004]
Release Date: December, 1999

Language: English

Character set encoding: ASCII

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK "PIGS IS PIGS" ***

Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer

"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 last
Mr. Morehouse had talked himself speechless. The cause of the trouble
stood on the counter between the two men. It was a soap box across
the top of which were nailed a number of strips, forming a rough but
serviceable cage. In it two spotted guinea-pigs were greedily eating
lettuce leaves.

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

"But, you everlastingly stupid idiot!" shouted Mr. Morehouse, madly
shaking a flimsy printed book beneath the agent's nose, "can't you read
it here-in your own plain printed rates? 'Pets, domestic, Franklin to
Westcote, if properly boxed, twenty-five cents each.'" He threw the book
on 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 artificial
calmness 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? I
offer you fifty cents."

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

"An' I don't take fifty cints," he whispered in mockery. "Here's the
rule for ut. 'Whin the agint be in anny doubt regardin' whi