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 and wrote.     

       “Mr. Morgan, Head of Tariff Department,” he wrote. “Why do I say dago pigs is pigs because they is pigs and will be til you say they ain't which is what the rule book says stop your jollying me you know it as well as I do. As to health they are all well and hoping you are the same. 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 put in 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 to get 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 agents shall collect from consignee all costs of provender, etc., etc., required for live stock       while in transit or storage. You will proceed to collect same from consignee.”      

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

       “Proceed to collect,” he said softly. “How thim clerks do loike to be talkin'! Me proceed to collect two dollars and twinty-foive cints off Misther 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. Morehouse answered the bell.     

       “Ah, ha!” he cried as soon as he saw it was Flannery. “So you've come to your 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 John C. Morehouse for two dollars and twinty-foive cints for kebbages aten by his dago pigs. Wud you wish to pay ut?”      

       “Pay—Cabbages—!” gasped Mr. Morehouse. “Do you mean to say that 

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