Richard Connell

“ To the task of civilizing Ug, the teacher, a zealous soul, gave particular attention. It was a matter of pride with that teacher that the civilizing job should be a thorough one, neat, efficient, and with no rough edges; for Ug, it seemed quite probable, was destined to be the last of the Flatfeet. To civilize a Flatfoot! That was an ambition worthy of any man, thought the teacher. ”

“ Wigmore blandly, ““my advice to you is—drop the case.”
Ug stared.
“And not get my pig back?” he quavered.
“What,” said Mr. Wigmore philosophically, “is a pig more or less in the cosmic scheme?”
“But he's mine! I want my pig!” Ug was nearly in tears.
“Possession,” remarked Mr. Wigmore, showing impatience, “is nine points of the law. You came to me for advice. I gave it to you. You have received it. The law says nothing that would help you. Forget the pig.”
“But that isn't fair! He's mine! Patsy Duffy is a thief!”
Mr. Wigmore grew stern. ”

“ To his teacher, as the nearest representative of Uncle Sam, Ug went and stated the case of the kidnaped General Grant. The teacher listened sympathetically, but he shook his gray head; he knew Patsy Duffy, his gusty temper, his heavy fist, his plethoric bank roll, his political power. He pointed out to Ug that the recovering of kidnaped pigs was not a pedagogical function; furthermore, Ug was no longer a schoolboy, but a man of the world. Ug suggested a direct appeal to Uncle Sam. The teacher said emphatically that that would never do. Uncle Sam was much too busy to be bothered about one pig. ”

“ Good afternoon. What a bright warm day it is, isn't it?”
Ug found himself on Main Street, stunned. He had appealed to the law and it had failed him. It didn't seem possible that so learned a man as Marcellus Q. Wigmore could be wrong, and yet Ug found himself embracing that heresy. It seemed to him that he had a right to get his pig back. He decided to appeal to another of Uncle Sam's representatives, the superintendent of the reservation.
He was a genial soul, the superintendent, who professed often and loudly a love for the Indians. ”

“ It was natural, as one of the fruits of civilization, that Ug should aspire to be a capitalist. Accordingly he saved his dimes and, after prayer and meditation, invested them in a pig. It was not much of a pig, and it was given to whimpering. Ug had no special fondness for dumb animals, especially pigs; but he kept his charge under his bed and waited for him to increase and multiply. It was Ug's hope and plan that the pig would be the nucleus of a far-flung pig ranch. After consulting his school history book Ug named the animal General Grant. ”

“ Indeed, in darker moments the teacher sometimes opined that the only way to implant seeds of knowledge in that brown head was by means of a major operation involving trepanning. It was not that Ug preferred sin to syntax; docilely enough, and readily, he accepted the leading facts of an elementary education—to wit: That in 1492 Columbus sailed the ocean blue; that six times nine is invariably fifty-four; that one must spell “separate” with an “a” till one's hair turns gray; that homicide is not only illegal but unethical; that the femur is the longest bone in the human body ”

“ The last of the Flatfeet is going to be the best of the Flatfeet. I'll train Ug so that he will never want to take off his derby hat. After all, the derby hat is the symbol of civilization. No man can possibly be wild in a derby hat.”
So he labored over Ug. Time passed, as it is apt to, and Ug's chest measurement and appetite increased, and the teacher watched hopefully for signs of mental and moral development. That Ug would ever become a profound thinker, the teacher harbored grave doubts; there was scant indication that the chunky, square-faced boy would ever become a Flatfoot Aristotle. ”

“ A man can be civilized without being a mental Hercules.”
He continued most earnestly to train Ug in the way, by civilized canons, he should go. When Ug was fourteen a most encouraging event happened. With his own delighted eyes the teacher observed the behavior of Ug that day at recess in the school yard when Ug became involved in a quarrel with Henry James Curly Bear, a sprig of the Blackfoot tribe, and a youth of superior size and brawn. ”

“ He took himself, his dismay and his café-au-lait face to the teacher.
“What is Uncle Sam's last name?” he asked.
The teacher didn't know. Ug had caught him in an unguarded moment; the admission had slipped out; the teacher flushed, flustered.
“What is Uncle Sam's street and number?” asked Ug. His small eyes now held suspicion.
The teacher didn't know.
“Ug,” he said in his most kindly manner, “you're a grown man now. I think, perhaps, I ought to tell you. Uncle Sam isn't a man; that is to say, he isn't like you or me. He's a sort of—well, a sort of spirit.”
“Like God?” asked Ug. ”

“ Then Ug, with a movement of resolution, replaced the derby hat on his black locks.
“All right, Patsy Duffy,” he said with dignity. “Just you wait! I'm going to tell my uncle on you.” And Ug turned away.
“You can tell your aunt, too,” Mr. Duffy called after him, “and all your cousins. But the pig stays here, and if I ketch you pesterin' around here, Injin, I'll boot you for a gool.”
Ug made his way cabinward with cloudy brow. Here was injustice, flagrant injustice. He was a ward of Uncle Sam and he didn't propose to be treated like that, even by Patsy Duffy.
“It's not the pig ”

“ The longest-living author of this work died in 1949, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 74 years or less. This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works. ”

“ He say G. Grant et his parsnips. This is a fib. I keep all laws and teacher says I am sibbleized. Please tell Uncle Sam I want back my pig.
Your loving son,
George Washington Ug,
Flatfoot Indian.
Ten days later a very fat letter came for Ug. and he took it triumphantly. He even bought a can of condensed milk for General Grant's home-coming party. In his cabin he opened the letter. it read:
Dear sir: In reply refer to No. 4399768554333; section 29, subsection 9.
Your communication has been received and placed on file. Nothing can be done because of insufficient information. ”