Rules are Rules?
By Ellis Parker Butler

　Mike Flannery,/the agent of the Interurban Express Company,/leaned over the counter/in the company’s office in Westcote/and shook his fist.// Mr. Morehouse,/angry and red,/stood on the other side of the counter,/shaking with fury.// The argument had been long and hot.// At last/Mr. Morehouse had become speechless.//
　The cause of the trouble/lay on the counter/between the two men.// It was a box/with two guinea pigs inside.//
　“Do as you like, then!”/shouted Flannery.// “Pay for them and take them.// Or don’t pay for them/and leave them here.// Rules are rules, Mr. Morehouse.// And Mike Flannery is not going to break them.”//
　“What are you talking about?”/shouted Mr. Morehouse,/madly shaking a thin book/beneath the agent’s nose.// “Can’t you read it here/— in your own book of transportation rates?// ‘Pets, domestic, Franklin to Westcote,/if properly boxed,/twenty-five cents each.’”//
　He threw the book on the counter.// “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,/with a furious look on his face.// “Pets,”/he said.// “P-E-T-S!// Twenty-five cents each.// Two times twenty-five is 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.//
　“I won’t accept fifty cents,”/he whispered in an unpleasant voice.// “Here’s the rule for it:/‘When the agent is in any doubt/about which of two rates should be charged/on a shipment,/he shall charge the larger.// The person receiving the shipment/may put in a claim/for the overcharge.’// In this case, Mr. Morehouse,/I am in doubt.// Those animals may be pets.// And they may be domestic,/but I’m sure they are pigs.// And the rulebook says clearly,/‘Pigs, Franklin to Westcote, thirty cents each.’”//
　Mr. Morehouse shook his head bluntly.// “Nonsense!”/he shouted.// “Complete nonsense, I tell you!// That rule means common pigs,/not guinea pigs!”//
　“Pigs are pigs,”/Flannery said firmly.//
　Mr. Morehouse bit his lip/and then flung his arms out wildly.// “Very well!”/he shouted.// “You shall hear of this!// Your president shall hear of this!// It is an outrage!// I have offered you fifty cents.// You refuse it.// Keep the pigs/until you are ready to take the fifty cents.// But,/if one hair of those pigs’ heads is harmed,/I will have the law on you!”// He turned and walked out,/slamming the door.// Flannery carefully lifted the box/from the counter/and put it in a corner.//

　Mr. Morehouse quickly wrote a letter/to the president of the transportation express company.// The president answered,/informing Mr. Morehouse/that all claims for overcharge/should be sent to the Claims Department.//
　Mr. Morehouse wrote to the Claims Department.// One week later/he received an answer.// The Claims Department said/it had discussed the matter/with the agent at Westcote.// The agent said/Mr. Morehouse had refused/to accept the two guinea pigs/shipped to him.// Therefore,/the department said,/Mr. Morehouse had no claim against the company/and should write to its Tariff Department.//
　Mr. Morehouse wrote to the Tariff Department.// He stated his case clearly.// The head of the Tariff Department/read Mr. Morehouse’s letter.// “Huh!// Guinea pigs,”/he said.// “Probably starved to death/by this time.”// He wrote to the agent/asking why the shipment was held up.// He also wanted to know/if the guinea pigs were still in good health.//
　Before answering,/Agent Flannery wanted to make sure/his report was up to date.// So/he went to the back of the office/and looked into the cage.// Good Lord!// There were now eight of them!// All well and eating like hippopotamuses.//
　He went back to the office/and explained to the head of the Tariff Department/what the rules said about pigs.// And as for the condition of the guinea pigs,/said Flannery,/they were all well.// But there were eight of them now,/all good eaters.//

　The head of the Tariff Department laughed/when he read Flannery’s letter.// He read it again/and became serious.//
　“Oh, no!”/he said.// “Flannery is right.// Pigs are pigs.// I’ll have to check officially on this.”// He spoke to the president of the company.// The president treated the matter lightly.// “What is the rate on pigs and on pets?”/he asked.//
　“Pigs thirty cents,/pets twenty-five,”/the head of the Tariff Department answered.// “Then of course/guinea pigs are pigs,”/the president said.//
　“Yes,”/the head of the Tariff Department agreed.// “I look at it that way, too.// A thing/that can come under two rates/is naturally to be charged/at the higher one.// But are guinea pigs, pigs?// Aren’t they rabbits?”//
　“Come to think of it,”/the president said,/“I believe/they’re more like rabbits.// Sort of halfway between pig and rabbit.// I think/the question is this/— are guinea pigs of the domestic pig family?// I’ll ask Professor Gordon.// He’s an expert about such things.”//
　The president wrote to Professor Gordon.// Unfortunately,/the professor was in South America/collecting zoological samples.// His wife forwarded the letter to him.//
　The professor was in the Andes.// The letter took many months to reach him.// In time,/the president forgot the guinea pigs.// The head of the Tariff Department forgot them.// Mr. Morehouse forgot them.// But Agent Flannery did not.// The guinea pigs had increased to thirty-two.// He asked the head of the Tariff Department/what he should do with them.//

　“Don’t sell the pigs,”/Agent Flannery was told.// “They are not your property.// Take care of them/until the case is settled.”//
　The guinea pigs needed more room.// Flannery made a large and airy room for them/in the back of his office.//
　Some months later/he discovered/he now had one hundred and sixty of them.// He was going out of his mind.//
　Not long after this,/the president of the express company/heard from Professor Gordon.// It was a long and scholarly letter.// It pointed out/that the guinea pig was not related to the common pig.//
　The president then told/the head of the Tariff Department/that guinea pigs are not pigs/and must be charged only twenty-five cents/as domestic pets.// The Tariff Department informed Agent Flannery/that he should take the one hundred and sixty guinea pigs/to Mr. Morehouse/and collect twenty-five cents for each of them.//
　Agent Flannery wired back.// “I’ve got eight hundred now.// Shall I collect for eight hundred?// How about the sixty-four dollars/I paid for cabbages to feed them?”//
　Many letters went back and forth.// Flannery was pushed into a few feet/at the extreme front of the office.// The guinea pigs had all the rest of the room.// Time kept moving on/as the letters continued to go back and forth.//
　Flannery now had four thousand and sixty-four guinea pigs.// He was beginning to lose control of himself.// Then,/he got a telegram from the company,/which said/“Error in guinea pig bill.// Collect for two guinea pigs/— fifty cents.”//

　Flannery ran all the way/to Mr. Morehouse’s home.// But Mr. Morehouse had moved.// Flannery searched for him in town/but could not find him.// He returned to the express office/and found/that two hundred and six guinea pigs/had entered the world/since he had left the office.//
　At last,/he got an urgent telegram/from the main office:/“Send the pigs to the main office of the company/at Franklin.”// Flannery did so.// Soon,/came another telegram.// “Stop sending pigs.// Warehouse full.”// But he kept sending them.//
　Agent Flannery finally got free of the guinea pigs.// “Rules may be rules,”/he said,/“but so long as Flannery runs this express office,/pigs are pets,/and cows are pets,/and horses are pets,/and lions and tigers and Rocky Mountain goats are pets.// And the rate on them/is twenty-five cents.”//
　Then/he looked around/and said cheerfully,/“Well, anyhow,/it is not/as bad as it might have been.// What if those guinea pigs had been elephants?”//