“In my pen,” responded Mr. Duffy.
“I’ll take him away,” said Ug.
“You will not,” said Mr. Duffy.
“But he’s mine,” protested Ug.
“He was,” corrected Mr. Duffy. “Now he’s mine.”
“Since when, Patsy Duffy?” Ug was growing agitated; he had heard tales of Mr. Duffy.
“Your thievin’ pig,” declared Mr. Duffy, “come over and et my prize parsnips. I was goin’ to show ’em at the state fair. They was worth eleven dollars—to me, anyhow—not countin’ the honor an’ glory. Now they’re et. I’ll be keeping the pig.”
“You give me back my pig, Patsy Duffy!” cried Ug.
“You give me back my parsnips,” returned Mr. Duffy coldly.
“But General Grant didn’t eat your parsnips,” said Ug. “He hates parsnips. And, anyhow, he was home all day. You took——”