"Are they near by, Mike?" asked Casey, much interested.

"Naw," said Toole. "'Twill be some time till I git thim. Th'
last he heard of thim they were swimmin' in th' Lake of Geneva."

"Is it far, th' lake?" asked Casey.

"I disremimber how far," said Toole. "'Tis in Africa or Asia,
or mebby 'tis in Constantinople. Wan of thim countries it is,
annyhow."

But to his cousin Dennis he wrote:


"Dear Dennis--I will take them two dongolas. Crate them good
and solid. Do not send them till I tell you. Send the bill to me.
Your affectionate cousin alderman Michael Toole. Ps Make bill for
two hundred dollars a piece. Business is business. This is
between us two. M. T."


A Keeper of the Water Goats had been selected with the utmost
care, combining in the choice practical politics with a sense of
fitness. Timothy Fagan was used to animals--for years he had
driven a dumpcart. He was used to children--he had ten or eleven
of his own. And he controlled several votes in the Fourth Ward.
His elevation from the dump-cart of the street cleaning
department to the high office of Keeper of the Water Goats was
one that Dugan believed would give general satisfaction.