Mike Flannery On Duty and Off

by Ellis Parker Butler

"An' th' reason I'm thinkin' so," said Flannery slowly, and leaning toward Mrs. Muldoon across the table, "is that, if I be not mistaken, Missus Muldoon, th' professor's educated flea spent last night with Mike Flannery!"

Mrs. Muldoon raised her hands with a gesture of wonderment.

"And listen to that, now!" she cried, in astonishment. "Mike Flannery, do you be thinkin' th' professor has two of them? Sure, and he must have two of them, for was it not mesilf was thinkin' all last night I had th' same educated flea for a bed-felly? I would have caught him," she added, sadly, "but he was too brisk for me."

"There was forty-sivin times I thought I had mine," admitted Flannery, "but every time whin I took up me thumb he had gone some other place. But I will have him to-night!"

"But mebby he has gone by now," said Mrs. Muldoon.

"Never fear, mam," said Flannery. "He's not gone, mam, for he has been close to me every minute of th' day. I could put me thumb on him this minute, if he would but wait 'till I did it."

"Well, as for that, Mike Flannery," said Mrs. Muldoon, mischievously, as she arose from the table, "go on along with ye, and don't be bringin' th' blush t' me face, but whin I want t' find th' one I was speakin' of, I won't have t' walk away from meself t' find him this minute!"

The trained flea is one of nature's marvels. Everyone says so. A Bobby Burns might well write a poem on this "wee, timorous, cowerin' beastie," except that the flea is not, strictly speaking, timorous or cowering. A flea, when it is in good health and spirits, will not cower worth a cent. It has ten times the bravery of a lion—in fact, one single little flea, alone and unaided, will step right up and attack the noisiest lion, and never brag about it. A lion is a rank coward in comparison with a flea, for a lion will not attack anything that it has not a good chance of killing, while the humble but daring flea will boldly attack animals it cannot kill, and that it knows it cannot kill. David had at least a chance to kill Goliath, but what chance has a flea to kill a camel? None at all unless the camel commits suicide. And dogs! A flea will attack the most ferocious dog and think nothing of it at all. I have seen it myself. That is true bravery. And not only that—not only will one flea attack a dog—but hundreds of fleas will attack the same dog at the same time. I have seen that myself, too. And that multiplies the bravery of the flea just that much. One flea attacking a dog is brave; one hundred fleas attacking the same dog are therefore one hundred times as brave. We really had to give the dog away, he was carrying so much bravery around with him all the time.

Think of educating an animal with a brain about the size of the point of a fine needle! And that was what Professor Jocolino had done. The flea is really one of nature's wonders, like Niagara Falls, and Jojo the dog-faced man, and the Cañon of the Colorado. Pull? For its size the educated flea can pull ten times as much as the strongest horse. Jump? For its size the flea can jump forty times as far as the most agile jack-rabbit. Its hide is tougher than the hide of a rhinoceros, too. Imagine a rhinoceros standing in Madison Square, in the City of New York, and suppose you have crept up to it, and are going to pat it, and your hand is within one foot of the rhinoceros. And before you can bring your hand to touch the beast suppose it makes a leap, and goes darting through the air so rapidly that you can't see it go, and that before your hand has fallen to where the rhinoceros was, the rhinoceros has alighted gently on top of the City Hall at Philadelphia. That will give you some idea of the magnificent qualities of the flea. If we only knew more of these ordinary facts about things we would love things more.

At the breakfast table the next morning Professor Jocolino sat silent and moody in his place, his head, bent over his breakfast, but the nine other men at the table eyed him suspiciously. So did Mrs. Muldoon. There was no question now that Professor Jocolino had lost his educated flea. There was, in fact, ground for the belief that the professor had had more than one educated flea, and that he had lost all of them. There was also a belief that, however well trained the lost might be in some ways, their manners had not been carefully attended to, and that they had not been trained to be well behaved when making visits to utter strangers. A beast or bird that will force itself upon the hospitality of an utter stranger unasked, and then bite its host, may be well educated, but it is not polite. The boarders looked at Professor Jocolino and frowned. The professor looked stolidly at his plate, and ate hurriedly, and left the table before the others had finished.