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Updated: April 30, 2025
"This has ceased to be amusing," said Captain von Zeiglemann, emerging from his bomb-proof shelter, and wired a requisition for three machines to replace those "destroyed by enemy action," and approval for certain measures of reprisal. "As for that pig-dog von Mahl...." "He has received his fifth warning," said his unsmiling junior, "and he is not happy." Von Mahl was decidedly not happy.
He had served, when only seventeen, in the Franco-Prussian War as a hussar, and was a noted sharp-shooter being "the little baron" who is the hero of Archibald Forbes's true story of "The Pig-dog." He and I had for years talked over the possibilities of just such a regiment as the one I was commanding, and he was greatly interested in it.
I'd known him in a very different milieu." "Ah, yes!" she said, reflectively. "Yes, he does go into the world also, doesn't he? But this is what he likes, you know." Her lips drew back for an instant, and she said: "He is a pig-dog!" Ste. Marie looked at her gravely. She had used that offensive name with a little too much fierceness.
"It is not thy pig-dog of a husband I wish to kill!" he said, after one hour had gone by in inarticulate murmurings.
The man swore in German under his breath. "Of a lightness always, Harietta! No devouement, no patriotism.... Should I have agreed to the divorce, loving your body as I do, had it not been a serious matter? The pig-dog who now owns you must be sucked dry of information and then I shall take you back again." A cunning look came into Madame Boleski's hazel eyes.
Marie, practically and the speech sounded rather like one of Hartley's speeches "I think it was not quite the world that Samson pulled down, but a temple or a palace something of that kind." "Well," said the golden lady, "this place is rather like a temple a Chinese temple, with the pig-dog for high-priest." Ste. Marie frowned at her. "What are you going to do?" he demanded, sharply.
What have you to say, eh?" There was a silence; Burley ceased struggling. "Answer, do you hear? What are you?" "American." "Pig-dog!" shouted the gaunt officer. "So you are one of those Yankee muleteers in your uniform, and armed! It is sufficient that you are American. If it had not been for America this war would be ended!
There was that in Pollyooly's deep blue eyes which gave him pause. He advanced another step, and stopped again. Then he called her "pig-dog," in his native tongue, turned aside, and pursued his way. As he went he kept looking back at her, scowling malevolently. Pollyooly gazed after him with unchanging face.
All of a sudden, in the same hoarse sinister tone, he proceeded to call Heyst many names, of which "pig-dog" was not the worst, with such vehemence that he actually choked himself. Profiting from the pause, Davidson, whose temperament could withstand worse shocks, remonstrated in an undertone: "It's unreasonable to get so angry as that. Even if he had run off with your cash-box "
The Herr Professor sweated and panted as he tugged at the silk handkerchief with which he was busily knotting the arms of the unconscious American behind his back. "Pouf! Ugh! Pig-dog!" he grunted "mit his pockets full of automatic clips. A Yankee, eh? What I tell you, Siurd? English and Yankee they are one in blood and one at heart pig-dogs effery one.
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