"Hear that, now!" said Flannery, "and did they really come all th' way from France, professor? Or is this a joke ye are playin' on me?" "The truly French flea!" explained the professor. "From Paris herselfs. The genuine. The import flea." "And to think ye brought thim all th' way yerself, professor! For ye did, I believe?" "Certain!" cried all three. "An' t' think of a flea bein' worth a dollar!" said Flannery. "Thim can't be crude fleas at sich a price, professor." "No! Certain, no!" cried the three men again. "Not crude," said Flannery, "and imported by th' professor! 'T is odd I should have seen a refirince t' them very things this very day, professor. 'T is in this book here." He took the list of customs duties from his pocket and leaned his elbows on his knees, and ran his hand down the pages. "'Cattle, if less than one year old, per head, two dollars. All other, if valued less than $14 per head, $3.75; if valued more than $14 per head, twinty-sivin and one half per cent.,'" read Flannery. "Sure, fleas does not count as cattle, professor. Nor does they come in as swine, th' duty on which is one dollar an' fifty cints per head. I know th' pig, an' I am acquainted with th' flea, an' there is a difference between thim that annyone would recognize. Nor do they be 'Horses an' Mules' nor yet 'Sheep,' Some might count them in as 'All other live animals not otherwise specified, twinty per cent.,' but 't was not there I saw refirince t' thim. 'Fish,'" he read, "th' flea is no more fish than I am--" He turned the pages, and continued down through that wonderful list that embraces everything known to man. The three Frenchmen sat on the edges of their chairs, watching him eagerly. "Ho, ho!" Flannery sang out at length. "Here it is! 'Insects, not crude, one quarter cent per pound and tin per cint. ad valorum.' What is ad valorum, I dunno, but 't is a wonderful thing th' tariff is. Who would be thinkin' tin years ago that Professor Jocolino would be comin' t' Ameriky with one hundred fleas, not crude, in his dress-suit portmanteau? But th' Congress was th' boy t' think of everything. 'No free fleas!' says they. 'Look at th' poor American flea, crude an' uneducated, an' see th' struggle it has, competin' with th' flea of Europe, Asia, an' Africa. Down with th' furrin flea,' says Congress, 'protect th' poor American insect. One quarter cent per pound an' tin per cint. ad valorum for th' flea of Europe!" Mike Flannery brought his hand down on the book he held, and the three men, who had been watching him with a fascinated stare, jumped nervously.