Mike Flannery On Duty and Off by Ellis Parker Butler
page 7 of 57 (12%)
page 7 of 57 (12%)
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It doesn't interest us any more. And another thing: You gave us a
receipt for that cat in good order; if it was damaged in transit it is none of our affair, is it?" "Owner's risk," said the Interurban clerk. "You know we only accept live animals for transportation at owner's risk." "That lets us out, then," said the Hibbert & Jones clerk. "Mrs. Warman is the owner. Ring off, please." Westcote is merely a suburb of New York, and mails are frequent, and Mike Flannery found a letter waiting for him when he opened the office the next morning. It was brief. It said: "Regarding cat, W.B. 23645, this was sent at owner's risk, and Mrs. Warman seems to be the owner. Cat should be delivered to her. We are writing her from this office, but in case she does not call for it immediately, you will keep it carefully in your office. You had better have a veterinary look at the cat. Feed it regularly." Mike Flannery folded the letter slowly and looked down at the cat. "Feed it!" he exclaimed. "I wonder, now, was that a misprint fer fumigate it, fer that is what it will be wantin' mighty soon, if I know anything about deceased cats. I wonder do thim dudes in New Yorrk be thinkin, th' long-haired cat is only fainted, mebby? Do they think they see Mike Flannery sittin' be th' bedside av th' cat, fannin' it t' bring it back t' consciousness? Feed it! Niver in me life have I made a specialty av cats, long-haired or short-haired, an' I do not be pretindin' t' be a profissor av cats, but 'tis me sittled belief that whin a cat is as dead as that wan is it stops eatin'." |
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