Part 1 out of 3
This E-text was prepared by Juliet Sutherland, Marvin A. Hodges, Charles
Franks, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.
MR. DOOLEY'S PHILOSOPHY
FINLEY PETER DUNNE
[Illustration: POOR PEOPLE 'LL HAVE SIMPLE MEALS.]
_To the Hennessys of the world who suffer and are silent_
The reporter of these monologues would apologize for the frequent
reappearances of Mr. Dooley, if he felt the old gentleman would
appreciate an apology in his behalf. But Mr. Dooley has none of the
modesty that has been described as "an invention for protection against
envy," because unlike that one of his distinguished predecessors who
discovered this theory to excuse his own imperfect but boastful egotism,
he recognizes no such human failing as envy. Most of the papers in the
present collection of the sayings of this great and learned man have
appeared in the press of America and England. This will account for the
fact that they deal with subjects that have pressed hard upon the minds
of newspaper readers, statesmen, and tax-payers during the year. To
these utterances have been added a number of obiter dicta by the
philosopher, which, perhaps, will be found to have the reminiscent
flavor that appertains to the observations of all learned judges when
they are off the bench.
In some cases the sketches have been remodeled and care has been taken
to correct typographical blunders, except where they seemed to improve
the text. In this connection the writer must offer his profound
gratitude to the industrious typographer, who often makes two jokes grow
where only one grew before, and has added generously to the distress of
F. P. D.
A BOOK REVIEW
SERVANT GIRL PROBLEM
WAR AND WAR MAKERS
UNDERESTIMATING THE ENEMY
THE WAR EXPERT
THE BOER MISSION
THE CHINESE SITUATION
THE FUTURE OF CHINA
THE YACHT RACES
MARRIAGE AND POLITICS
ALCOHOL AS FOOD
THE PARIS EXPOSITION
THE ADMIRAL'S CANDIDACY
CUSTOMS OF KENTUCKY
A SOCIETY SCANDAL
DOINGS OF ANARCHISTS
VOICES FROM THE TOMB
THE NEGRO PROBLEM
THE AMERICAN STAGE
TROUBLES OF A CANDIDATE
A BACHELOR'S LIFE
THE EDUCATION OF THE YOUNG
* * * * *
A BOOK REVIEW
"Well sir," said Mr. Dooley, "I jus' got hold iv a book, Hinnissy, that
suits me up to th' handle, a gran' book, th' grandest iver seen. Ye know
I'm not much throubled be lithrachoor, havin' manny worries iv me own,
but I'm not prejudiced again' books. I am not. Whin a rale good book
comes along I'm as quick as anny wan to say it isn't so bad, an' this
here book is fine. I tell ye 'tis fine."
"What is it?" Mr. Hennessy asked languidly.
"'Tis 'Th' Biography iv a Hero be Wan who Knows.' 'Tis 'Th' Darin'
Exploits iv a Brave Man be an Actual Eye Witness.' 'Tis 'Th' Account iv
th' Desthruction iv Spanish Power in th' Ant Hills,' as it fell fr'm th'
lips iv Tiddy Rosenfelt an' was took down be his own hands. Ye see 'twas
this way, Hinnissy, as I r-read th' book. Whin Tiddy was blowed up in
th' harbor iv Havana he instantly con-cluded they must be war. He
debated th' question long an' earnestly an' fin'lly passed a jint
resolution declarin' war. So far so good. But there was no wan to carry
it on. What shud he do? I will lave th' janial author tell th' story in
his own wurruds.
"'Th' sicrety iv war had offered me,' he says, 'th' command of a
rig'mint,' he says, 'but I cud not consint to remain in Tampa while
perhaps less audacious heroes was at th' front,' he says. 'Besides,' he
says, 'I felt I was incompetent f'r to command a rig'mint raised be
another,' he says. 'I detarmined to raise wan iv me own,' he says. 'I
selected fr'm me acquaintances in th' West,' he says, 'men that had
thravelled with me acrost th' desert an' th' storm-wreathed mountain,'
he says, 'sharin' me burdens an' at times confrontin' perils almost as
gr-reat as anny that beset me path,' he says. 'Together we had faced th'
turrors iv th' large but vilent West,' he says, 'an' these brave men had
seen me with me trusty rifle shootin' down th' buffalo, th' elk, th'
moose, th' grizzly bear, th' mountain goat,' he says, 'th' silver man,
an' other ferocious beasts iv thim parts,' he says. 'An' they niver
flinched,' he says. 'In a few days I had thim perfectly tamed,' he says,
'an' ready to go annywhere I led,' he says. 'On th' thransport goi'n to
Cubia,' he says, 'I wud stand beside wan iv these r-rough men threatin'
him as a akel, which he was in ivrything but birth, education, rank an'
courage, an' together we wud look up at th' admirable stars iv that
tolerable southern sky an' quote th' bible fr'm Walt Whitman,' he says.
'Honest, loyal, thrue-hearted la-ads, how kind I was to thim,' he says."
[Illustration: Read the articles by Roosevelt and Davis in the Car Fare
"'We had no sooner landed in Cubia than it become nicessry f'r me to
take command iv th' ar-rmy which I did at wanst. A number of days was
spint be me in reconnoitring, attinded on'y be me brave an' fluent body
guard, Richard Harding Davis. I discovered that th' inimy was heavily
inthrenched on th' top iv San Juon hill immejiately in front iv me. At
this time it become apparent that I was handicapped be th' prisence iv
th' ar-rmy,' he says. 'Wan day whin I was about to charge a block house
sturdily definded be an ar-rmy corps undher Gin'ral Tamale, th' brave
Castile that I aftherwards killed with a small ink-eraser that I always
carry, I r-ran into th' entire military force iv th' United States lying
on its stomach. 'If ye won't fight,' says I, 'let me go through, 'I
says. 'Who ar-re ye?' says they. 'Colonel Rosenfelt,' says I. 'Oh,
excuse me,' says the gin'ral in command (if me mimry serves me thrue it
was Miles) r-risin' to his knees an' salutin'. This showed me 'twud be
impossible f'r to carry th' war to a successful con-clusion unless I was
free, so I sint th' ar-rmy home an' attackted San Juon hill. Ar-rmed
on'y with a small thirty-two which I used in th' West to shoot th' fleet
prairie dog, I climbed that precipitous ascent in th' face iv th' most
gallin' fire I iver knew or heerd iv. But I had a few r-rounds iv gall
mesilf an' what cared I? I dashed madly on cheerin' as I wint. Th'
Spanish throops was dhrawn up in a long line in th' formation known
among military men as a long line. I fired at th' man nearest to me an'
I knew be th' expression iv his face that th' trusty bullet wint home.
It passed through his frame, he fell, an' wan little home in far-off
Catalonia was made happy be th' thought that their riprisintative had
been kilt be th' future governor iv New York. Th' bullet sped on its mad
flight an' passed through th' intire line fin'lly imbeddin' itself in
th' abdomen iv th' Ar-rch-bishop iv Santiago eight miles away. This
ended th' war.'
"'They has been some discussion as to who was th' first man to r-reach
th' summit iv San Juon hill. I will not attempt to dispute th' merits iv
th' manny gallant sojers, statesmen, corryspondints an' kinetoscope men
who claim th' distinction. They ar-re all brave men an' if they wish to
wear my laurels they may. I have so manny annyhow that it keeps me broke
havin' thim blocked an' irned. But I will say f'r th' binifit iv
Posterity that I was th' on'y man I see. An I had a tillyscope.'"
"I have thried, Hinnissy," Mr. Dooley continued, "to give you a fair
idee iv th' contints iv this remarkable book, but what I've tol' ye is
on'y what Hogan calls an outline iv th' principal pints. Ye'll have to
r-read th' book ye'ersilf to get a thrue conciption. I haven't time f'r
to tell ye th' wurruk Tiddy did in ar-rmin' an' equippin' himself, how
he fed himsilf, how he steadied himsilf in battle an' encouraged himsilf
with a few well-chosen wurruds whin th' sky was darkest. Ye'll have to
take a squint into th' book ye'ersilf to l'arn thim things."
"I won't do it," said Mr. Hennessy. "I think Tiddy Rosenfelt is all r-
right an' if he wants to blow his hor-rn lave him do it."
"Thrue f'r ye," said Mr. Dooley, "an' if his valliant deeds didn't get
into this book 'twud be a long time befure they appeared in Shafter's
histhry iv th' war. No man that bears a gredge again' himsilf 'll iver
be governor iv a state. An' if Tiddy done it all he ought to say so an'
relieve th' suspinse. But if I was him I'd call th' book 'Alone in
"I wondher," said Mr. Dooley, "what me Dutch frind Oom Paul'll think
whin he hears that Willum Waldorf Asthor has given four thousan' pounds
or twinty thousan' iv our money as a conthribution to th' British
"Who's Willum Waldorf Asthor?" Mr. Hennessy asked. "I niver heerd iv
"Ye wudden't," said Mr. Dooley. "He don't thravel in ye'er set. Willum
Waldorf Asthor is a gintleman that wanst committed th' sin iv bein'
bor-rn in this counthry. Ye know what orig-inal sin is, Hinnissy. Ye was
bor-rn with wan an' I was bor-rn with wan an' ivrybody was bor-rn with
wan. 'Twas took out iv me be Father Tuomy with holy wather first an' be
me father aftherward with a sthrap. But I niver cud find out what it
was. Th' sins I've committed since, I'm sure iv. They're painted red an'
carry a bell an' whin I'm awake in bed they stan' out on th' wall like
th' ilicthric signs they have down be State sthreet in front iv th'
clothin' stores. But I'll go to th' grave without knowin' exactly what
th' black orig-inal sin was I committed. All I know is I done wrong. But
with Willum Waldorf Asthor 'tis dif'rent. I say 'tis diff'rent with
Willum Waldorf Asthor. His orig-inal sin was bein' bor-rn in New York.
He cudden't do anything about it. Nawthin' in this counthry wud wipe it
out. He built a hotel intinded f'r jooks who had no sins but thim iv
their own makin', but even th' sight iv their haughty bills cud not
efface th' stain. He thried to live down his crime without success an'
he thried to live down to it be runnin' f'r congress, but it was no go.
No matther where he wint among his counthrymen in England some wan wud
find out he was bor-rn in New York an' th' man that ownded th' house
where he was spindin' th' night wud ast him if he was a cannibal an' had
he anny Indyan blood in his veins. 'Twas like seein' a fine lookin' man
with an intel-lecjal forehead an' handsome, dar-rk brown eyes an'
admirin' him, an' thin larnin' his name is Mudd J. Higgins. His accint
was proper an' his clothes didn't fit him right, but he was not bor-rn
in th' home iv his dayscindants, an' whin he walked th' sthreets iv
London he knew ivry polisman was sayin': 'There goes a man that pretinds
to be happy, but a dark sorrow is gnawin' at his bosom. He looks as if
he was at home, but he was bor-rn in New York, Gawd help him.'
"So this poor way-worn sowl, afther thryin' ivry other rimidy fr'm
dhrivin' a coach to failin' to vote, at las' sought out th' rile high
clark iv th' coort an' says he: 'Behold,' he says, 'an onhappy man,' he
says. 'With millyons in me pocket, two hotels an' onlimited credit, 'he
says, 'me hear-rt is gray,' he says. 'Poor sowl,' says th' clark iv th'
coort, 'What's ailin' ye'?' he says. 'Have ye committed some gr-reat
crime?' he says. 'Partly,' says Willum Waldorf Asthor. 'It was partly me
an' partly me folks,' he says. 'I was,' he says, in a voice broken be
tears, 'I was,' he says, 'bor-rn in New York,' he says. Th' clark made
th' sign iv th' cross an' says he: 'Ye shudden't have come here,' he
says. 'Poor afflicted wretch,' he says, 'ye need a clargyman,' he says.
'Why did ye seek me out?' he says. 'Because,' says Willum Waldorf
Asthor, 'I wish,' he says, 'f'r to renounce me sinful life,' he says. 'I
wish to be bor-rn anew,' he says. An' th' clark bein' a kind man helps
him out. An' Willum Waldorf Asthor renounced fealty to all foreign
sovereigns, princes an' potentates an' especially Mack th' Wanst, or
Twict, iv th' United States an' Sulu an' all his wur-ruks an' he come
out iv th' coort with his hat cocked over his eye, with a step jaunty
and high, afther years iv servile freedom a bondman at last!
"So he's a citizen iv Gr-reat Britain now an' a lile subject iv th'
Queen like you was Hinnissy befure ye was r-run out."
"I niver was," said Mr. Hennessy. "Sure th' Queen iv England was
renounced f'r me long befure I did it f'r mesilf--to vote."
"Well, niver mind," Mr. Dooley continued, "he's a citizen iv England an'
he has a castle that's as big as a hotel, on'y nobody goes there excipt
thim that's ast, an' not all of those, an' he owns a newspaper an' th'
editor iv it's the Prince iv Wales an' th' rayporthers is all jooks an'
th' Archbishop iv Canterbury r-runs th' ilivator, an' slug wan in th'
printin' office is th' Impror iv Germany in disgeese. 'Tis a pa-per I'd
like to see. I'd like to know how th' Jook iv Marlbro'd do th' McGovern
fight. An' some day Willum Waldorf Asthor'll be able to wurruk f'r his
own pa-aper, f'r he's goin' to be a earl or a markess or a jook or
somethin' gran'. Ye can't be anny iv these things without money,
Hinnissy, an' he has slathers iv it."
"Where does he get it?" demanded Mr. Hennessy.
"F'rm this counthry," said Mr. Dooley.
"I shud think," Mr. Hennessy protested stoutly, "if he's ashamed iv this
counthry he wudden't want to take money f'rm it."
"That's where ye're wrong," Mr. Dooley replied. "Take money annywhere ye
find it. I'd take money f'rm England, much as I despise that formerly
haughty but now dejected land, if I cud get anny from there. An' whin ye
come down to it, I dinnaw as I blame Willum Waldorf Asthor f'r shiftin'
his allegiance. Ivry wan to his taste as th' man said whin he dhrank out
iv th' fire extinguisher. It depinds on how ye feel. If ye ar-re a tired
la-ad an' wan without much fight in ye, livin' in this counthry is like
thryin' to read th' Lives iv the Saints at a meetin' iv th' Clan-na-
Gael. They'se no quiet f'r annybody. They's a fight on ivry minyit iv
th' time. Ye may say to ye'ersilf: 'I'll lave these la-ads roll each
other as much as they plaze, but I'll set here in th' shade an' dhrink
me milk punch, but ye can't do it. Some wan 'll say, 'Look at that
gazabo settin' out there alone. He's too proud f'r to jine in our simple
dimmycratic festivities. Lave us go over an' bate him on th' eye.' An'
they do it. Now if ye have fightin' blood in ye'er veins ye hastily gulp
down yeer dhrink an' hand ye'er assailant wan that does him no kind iv
good, an' th' first thing ye know ye're in th thick iv it an' its scrap,
scrap, scrap till th' undhertaker calls f'r to measure ye. An' 'tis tin
to wan they'se somethin' doin' at th' fun'ral that ye're sorry ye
missed. That's life in America. Tis a gloryous big fight, a rough an'
tumble fight, a Donnybrook fair three thousan' miles wide an' a ruction
in ivry block. Head an' ban's an' feet an' th' pitchers on th' wall. No
holds barred. Fight fair but don't f'rget th' other la-ad may not know
where th' belt line is. No polisman in sight. A man's down with twinty
on top iv him wan minyit. Th' next he's settin' on th' pile usin' a
base-ball bat on th' neighbor next below him. 'Come on, boys, f'r 'tis
growin' late, an' no wan's been kilt yet. Glory be, but this is th'
"Now, if I'm tired I don't want to fight. A man bats me in th' eye an' I
call f'r th' polis. They isn't a polisman in sight. I say to th' man
that poked me: 'Sir, I fain wud sleep.' 'Get up,' he says, 'an' be
doin',' he says. 'Life is rale, life is earnest,' he says, 'an' man was
made to fight,' he says, fetchin' me a kick. An' if I'm tired I say,
'What's th' use? I've got plenty iv money in me inside pocket. I'll go
to a place where they don't know how to fight. I'll go where I can get
something but an argymint f'r me money an' where I won't have to rassle
with th' man that bates me carpets, ayether,' I says, 'f'r fifty cints
overcharge or good govermint,' I says. An' I pike off to what Hogan
calls th' effete monarchies iv Europe an' no wan walks on me toes, an'
ivry man I give a dollar to becomes an acrobat an' I live comfortably
an' die a markess! Th' divvle I do!
"That's what I was goin' to say," Mr. Hennessy remarked. 'Ye wudden't
live annywhere but here."
"No," said Mr. Dooley, "I wudden't. I'd rather be Dooley iv Chicago than
th' Earl iv Peltvule. It must be that I'm iv th' fightin' kind."
SERVANT GIRL PROBLEM
Whin Congress gets through expellin' mimbers that believes so much in
mathrimony that they carry it into ivry relation iv life an' opens th'
dure iv Chiny so that an American can go in there as free as a Chinnyman
can come into this refuge iv th' opprissed iv th' wurruld, I hope'twill
turn its attintion to th' gr-reat question now confrontin' th' nation--
th' question iv what we shall do with our hired help. What shall we do
"We haven't anny," said Mr. Hennessy.
"No," said Mr. Dooley. "Ar-rchey r-road has no servant girl problem. Th'
rule is ivry woman her own cook an' ivry man his own futman, an' be th'
same token we have no poly-gamy problem an' no open dure problem an' no
Ph'lippeen problem. Th' on'y problem in Ar-rchey r-road is how manny
times does round steak go into twelve at wan dollar-an-a-half a day.
But east iv th' r-red bridge, Hinnissy, wan iv th' most cryin' issues iv
th' hour is: What shall we do with our hired help? An' if Congress don't
take hold iv it we ar-re a rooned people."
"'Tis an ol' problem an' I've seen it arise an' shake its gory head ivry
few years whiniver th' Swede popylation got wurruk an' begun bein'
marrid, thus rayjoocin' th' visible supply iv help. But it seems 'tis
deeper thin that. I see be letters in th' pa-apers that servants is
insolent, an' that they won't go to wurruk onless they like th' looks iv
their employers, an' that they rayfuse to live in th' counthry. Why anny
servant shud rayfuse to live in th' counthry is more thin I can see.
Ye'd think that this disreputable class'd give annything to lave th'
crowded tinimints iv a large city where they have frinds be th'
hundherds an' know th' polisman on th' bate an' can go out to hateful
dances an' moonlight picnics--ye'd think these unforchnate slaves'd be
delighted to live in Mulligan's subdivision, amid th' threes an' flowers
an' bur-rds. Gettin' up at four o'clock in th' mornin' th' singin' iv
th' full-throated alarm clock is answered be an invisible choir iv
songsters, as Shakespere says, an' ye see th' sun rise over th' hills as
ye go out to carry in a ton iv coal. All day long ye meet no wan as ye
thrip over th' coal-scuttle, happy in ye'er tile an' ye'er heart is
enlivened be th' thought that th' childher in th' front iv th' house ar-
re growin' sthrong on th' fr-resh counthry air. Besides they'se always
cookin' to do. At night ye can set be th' fire an' improve ye'er mind be
r-readin' half th' love story in th' part iv th' pa-aper that th' cheese
come home in, an' whin ye're through with that, all ye have to do is to
climb a ladder to th' roof an' fall through th' skylight an' ye're in
"But wud ye believe it, Hinnissy, manny iv these misguided women
rayfuse f'r to take a job that aint in a city. They prefer th' bustle
an' roar iv th' busy marts iv thrade, th' sthreet car, th' saloon on
three corners an' th' church on wan, th' pa-apers ivry mornin' with
pitchers iv th' s'ciety fav'rite that's just thrown up a good job at
Armours to elope with th' well-known club man who used to be yard-
masther iv th' three B's, G, L, & N., th' shy peek into th' dhry-goods
store, an' other base luxuries, to a free an' healthy life in th'
counthry between iliven P.M. an' four A.M. Wensdahs an' Sundahs. 'Tis
worse thin that, Hinnissy, f'r whin they ar-re in th' city they seem to
dislike their wurruk an' manny iv thim ar-re givin' up splindid jobs
with good large families where they have no chanst to spind their
salaries, if they dhraw thim, an' takin' places in shops, an' gettin'
marrid an' adoptin' other devices that will give thim th' chanst f'r to
wear out their good clothes. 'Tis a horrible situation. Riley th'
conthractor dhropped in here th' other day in his horse an' buggy on his
way to the dhrainage canal an' he was all wurruked up over th' question.
'Why,' he says, ''tis scand'lous th' way servants act,' he says. 'Mrs.
Riley has hystrics,' he says. 'An' ivry two or three nights whin I come
home,' he says, 'I have to win a fight again' a cook with a stove lid
befure I can move me family off th' fr-ront stoop,' he says. 'We threat
thim well too,' he says. 'I gave th' las' wan we had fifty cints an' a
cook book at Chris'mas an' th' next day she left befure breakfast,' he
says. 'What naytionalties do ye hire?' says I. 'I've thried thim all,'
he says, 'an',' he says, 'I'll say this in shame,' he says, 'that th'
Irish ar-re th' worst,' he says. 'Well,' says I, 'ye need have no
shame,' I says, 'f'r'tis on'y th' people that ar-re good servants
that'll niver be masthers,' I says. 'Th' Irish ar-re no good as servants
because they ar-re too good,' I says. 'Th' Dutch ar-re no good because
they aint good enough. No matther how they start they get th' noodle
habit. I had wan, wanst, an' she got so she put noodles in me tay,' I
says. 'Th' Swedes ar-re all right but they always get marrid th' sicond
day. Ye'll have a polisman at th' dure with a warrant f'r th' arrist iv
ye'er cook if ye hire a Boheemyan,' I says. 'Coons'd be all right but
they're liable f'r to hand ye ye'er food in ragtime, an' if ye ordher
pork-chops f'r dinner an' th' hall is long,'tis little ye'll have to eat
whin th' platter's set down,' I says. 'No,' says I, 'they'se no
naytionality now livin' in this counthry that're nathral bor-rn
servants,' I says. 'If ye want to save throuble,' I says, 'ye'll import
ye'er help. They'se a race iv people livin' in Cinthral Africa that'd be
jus' r-right. They niver sleep, tkey can carry twice their weight on
their backs, they have no frinds, they wear no clothes, they can't read,
they can't dance an' they don't dhrink. Th' fact is they're thoroughly
oneddycated. If ye cud tache thim to cook an' take care iv childher
they'd be th' best servants,' says I. 'An' what d'ye call thim"?' says
he. 'I f'rget,' says I. An' he wint away mad."
"Sure an' he's a nice man to be talkin' iv servants," said Mr. Hennessy.
"He was a gintleman's man in th' ol' counthry an' I used to know his
wife whin she wurruked f'r ----"
"S-sh," said Mr. Dooley. "They're beyond that now. Besides they speak
fr'm experyence. An' mebbe that's th' throuble. We're always harder with
our own kind thin with others. 'Tis I that'd be th' fine cinsor iv a
bartinder's wurruk. Th' more ye ought to be a servant ye'ersilf th' more
difficult'tis f'r ye to get along with servants. I can holler to anny
man fr'm th' top iv a buildin' an' make him tur-rn r-round, but if I
come down to th' sthreet where he can see I aint anny bigger thin he is,
an' holler at him, 'tis twinty to wan if he tur-rns r-round he'll hit me
in th' eye. We have a servant girl problem because, Hinnissy, it isn't
manny years since we first begun to have servant girls. But I hope
Congress'll take it up. A smart Congress like th' wan we have now ought
to be able to spare a little time fr'm its preparation iv new Jims iv
speech f'r th' third reader an' rig up a bill that'd make keepin' house
a recreation while so softenin' th' spirit iv th' haughty sign iv a
noble race in th' kitchen that cookin' buckwheat cakes on a hot day with
th' aid iv a bottle iv smokeless powdher'd not cause her f'r to sind a
worthy man to his office in slippers an' without a hat."
"Ah," said Mr. Hennessy, the simple democrat. "It wud be all r-right if
women'd do their own cookin'."
"Well," said Mr. Dooley. "'Twud be a return to Jacksonyan simplicity,
an' 'twud be a gr-reat thing f'r th' resthrant business."
"It looks like war," said Mr. Hennessy, who had been glancing at the
flaming head-lines of an evening paper over Mr. Dooley's shoulder.
"It always does," said Mr. Dooley. "Since th' Czar iv Rooshia
inthrajooced his no-fight risolution, they'se been no chanst that they
wudden't be ructious."
"An' what's it all about?" demanded Mr. Hennessy. "I can't make head nor
tail iv it at all, at all."
"Well ye see 'tis this way," said Mr. Dooley. "Ye see th' Boers is a
simple, pasthral people that goes about their business in their own way,
raisin' hell with ivrybody. They was bor-rn with an aversion to society
an' whin th' English come they lit out befure thim, not likin' their
looks. Th' English kept comin' an' the Boers kept movin' till they
cudden't move anny further without bumpin' into th' Soodanese ar-rmy an'
thin they settled down an' says they, 'This far shall we go,' says they,
bein' a rellijous people, 'an' divvle th' sthep further.' An' they
killed off th' irrelijous naygurs an' started in f'r to raise cattle.
An' at night they'd set outside iv their dorps, which, Hinnissy, is
Dutch f'r two-story brick house an' lot, an' sip their la-ager an' swap
horses an' match texts fr'm th' Bible f'r th' seegars, while th' childer
played marbles with dimons as big as th' end iv ye'er thumb.
"Well, th' English heerd they was goold be th' bucket in ivry cellar
fr'm Oopencoff to Doozledorf, which, Hinnissy, is like New York an' San
Francisco, bein' th' exthreme pints iv th' counthry, an' they come on in
gr-reat hordes, sturdy Anglo-Saxons fr'm Saxony, th' Einsteins an'
Heidlebacks an' Werners an' whin they took out goold enough so's they
needed raycreation they wanted to vote. 'An',' says Joe Chamberlain, he
says, 'Be hivins, they shall vote,' he says. 'Is it,' he says, 'possible
that at this stage iv th' world's progress' he says, 'an English
gintleman shud be denied,' he says, 'th' right to dhrop off a thrain
annywhere in th' civilized wurruld an' cast his impeeryal vote?' he
says. 'Give thim th' franchise,' he says, 'or be this an' be that!' he
says, 'f'r we have put our hand to th' plough, an' we will not turn
back,' he says.
"Kruger, that's th' main guy iv th' Dutch, a fine man, Hennissy, that
looks like Casey's goat an' has manny iv th' same peculyarities, he
says, 'All r-right,' he says, 'I'll give thim th' franchise,' he says.
'Whin?' says Joe Chamberlain. 'In me will,' says Kruger. 'Whin I die,'
he says, 'an' I hope to live to be a hundherd if I keep on smokin'
befure breakfast,' he says, 'I'll bequeath to me frinds, th' English, or
such iv thim as was here befure I come, th' inalienable an' sacred right
to demand fr'm me succissor th' privilege iv ilictin' an aldherman,' he
says. 'But,' he says, 'in th' mane-time,' he says, 'we'll lave things
the way they are,' he says. 'I'm old,' he say, 'an' not good-lookin','
he says, 'an' me clothes don't fit an' they may be marks iv food on me
vest,' he says, 'but I'm not more thin half crazy an' annytime ye find
me givin' annywan a chanst to vote me into a job dhrivin' a mule an' put
in an English prisidint iv this ray-public,' he says, 'ye may conclude
that ye'er Uncle Paul needs a guarjeen!' he says.
"'Far be it fr'm me to suggist anny but peaceful measures,' says Sir
Alfred Milner, that's th' lad they have down in Africa, th' Injun agent,
'f'r th' English an' Dutch shud wurruk together like brothers f'r th'
removal iv th' naygur popylation,' he says, 'but,' he says, 'as a
brother I politely suggest to ye that if ye don't give us what we want
we'll hand ye a fraternal punch!' he says. 'F'r,' he says,' 'we have put
our hand to th' plough,' he says, 'an' we cannot turn back,' he says.
"'What Sir Alfred Milner says is thrue,' says Lord Lelborne, an' what
th' divvle he has to do about it I dinnaw. 'Th' situation is such,' he
says, 'as to be intol'rable to a silf-rayspictin' Englishman,' he says.
'What a crime,' he says, 'that th' men who ar-re takin' most iv th'
money out iv th' counthry shud not be allowed to stick in anny iv th'
votes,' he says. 'We have, as Shakespeare says, put our hand to th'
plough,' he says, 'an' we cannot turn back,' he says. 'I agree corjally
with th' noble lord on th' r-red lounge abaft me,' says Lord Salisbury.
'With the echoes of me own noble sintimints on th' peace proclamation iv
me good frind, th' Czar iv Rooshia, still ringin' in me ears,' he says,
'it wud ill become me to speak iv foorce,' he says. 'I wud on'y say that
if th' Transvaal raypublic wud rather have a Dum-dum bullet in its tum-
tum thin grant to Englishmen th' r-right to run th' govermint, thin th'
Transvaal rapublic'll have both!' he says. 'I will add,' he says, 'that
we have put our hand to th' plough an' we will not turn back,' he says.
"Well, sir, 'twas up to Kruger an' he knocked th' ashes out iv his pipe
on his vest an' says he, 'Gintlemen,' he says, 'I wud like to do me best
to accomydate ye,' he says. 'Nawthin' short iv a severe attack iv
sickness wud plaze me so much as to see long lines iv Englishmen
marchin' up to th' polls an' depositin' their ballots again' me f'r
prisidint,' he says. 'But,' he says, 'I'm an old man!' he says. 'I was
ilicted young an' I niver done annything since,' he says. 'I wudden't
know what to do without it,' he says. 'What ye propose is to make an ex-
prisidint iv me. D'ye think I cud stand that? D'ye think at my age I wud
be contint to dash fr'm wan justice coort to another pleadin' f'r
habyas-corpus writs or test me principles iv personal expansion in a Noo
Jarsey village?' he says. 'I'd rather be a dead prisidint thin a live
ex-prisidint. If I have anny pollytical ambition I'd rather be a Grant
or a Garfield thin a Cleveland or a Harrison,' he says. 'I may've read
it in th' Bible, though I think I saw it in a scand'lous book me frind
Rhodes left in his bedroom las' time he called on me, that ye shud niver
discard an ace to dhraw to a flush,' he says. 'I deplore th' language
but th' sintimint is sound,' he says. 'An' I believe ye'er intintions to
presarve peace ar-re honest, but I don't like to see ye pullin' off
ye'er coat an' here goes f'r throuble while ye have ye'er arms in th'
sleeves,' he says. 'F'r,' he says, 'ye have put ye'er hand in th' reaper
an' it cannot turn back,' he says.
"An' there they go, Hinnissy. I'm not again England in this thing,
Hinnissy, an' I'm not again th' Boers. Like Mack I'm divided on a
matther iv principle between a desire to cemint th' 'lieance an' an
affiction f'r th' Dutch vote. But if Kruger had spint his life in a rale
raypublic where they burn gas he cud've settled th' business without
losin' sleep. If I was Kruger there'd've been no war."
"What wud ye have done?" Mr. Hennessy asked.
"I'd give thim th' votes," said Mr. Dooley. "But," he added
significantly, "I'd do th' countin'."
WAR AND WAR MAKERS
"I tell ye, Hinnissy," said Mr. Dooley, "Ye can't do th' English-
speakin' people. Oursilves an' th' hands acrost th' sea ar-re rapidly
teachin' th' benighted Lutheryan an' other haythin that as a race we're
onvincible an' oncatcheable. Th' Anglo-Saxon race meetin's now going on
in th' Ph'lippeens an' South Africa ought to convince annywan that give
us a fair start an' we can bate th' wurruld to a tillygraft office.
"Th' war our cousins be Sir Thomas Lipton is prosecutin', as Hogan says,
again th' foul but accrate Boers is doin' more thin that. It's givin' us
a common war lithrachoor. I wudden't believe at first whin I r-read th'
dispatches in th' pa-apers that me frind Gin'ral Otis wasn't in South
Africa. It was on'y whin I see another chapter iv his justly cillybrated
seeryal story, intitled 'Th' Capture iv Porac' that I knew he had an
imitator in th' mother counthry. An' be hivins, I like th' English la-
ad's style almost as well as our own gr-reat artist's. Mebbe'tis, as th'
pa-apers say, that Otis has writ himsilf out. Annyhow th' las' chapter
isn't thrillin'. He says: 'To-day th' ar-rmy undher my command fell upon
th' inimy with gr-reat slaughter an' seized th' important town of Porac
which I have mintioned befure, but,' he says, 'we ar-re fortunately now
safe in Manila.' Ye see he doesn't keep up th' intherest to th' end. Th'
English pote does betther."
"'Las' night at eight o'clock,' he says, 'we found our slendher but
inthrepid ar-rmy surrounded be wan hundhred thousan' Boers,' he says.
'We attackted thim with gr-reat fury,' he says, 'pursuin' thim up th'
almost inaccessible mountain side an' capturin' eight guns which we
didn't want so we give thim back to thim with siveral iv our own,' he
says. 'Th' Irish rig'mints,' he says, 'th' Kerry Rifles, th' Land
Leaguers' Own, an' th' Dublin Pets, commanded be th' Pop'lar Irish sojer
Gin'ral Sir Ponsonby Tompkins wint into battle singin' their well-known
naytional anthem: "Mrs. Innery Awkins is a fust-class name!" Th' Boers
retreated,' he says, 'pursued be th' Davitt Terrors who cut their way
through th' fugitives with awful slaughter,' he says. 'They have now,'
he says, 'pinethrated as far us Pretoria,' he says, 'th' officers
arrivin' in first-class carredges an' th' men in thrucks,' he says, 'an'
ar-re camped in th' bettin' shed where they ar-re afforded ivry
attintion be th' vanquished inimy,' he says. 'As f'r us,' he says, 'we
decided afther th' victhry to light out f'r Ladysmith.' he says, 'Th'
inimy had similar intintions,' he says, 'but their skill has been vastly
overrated,' he says. 'We bate thim,' he says 'we bate thim be thirty
miles,' he says. That's where we're sthrong, Hinnissy. We may get licked
on th' battle field, we may be climbin' threes in th' Ph'lippeens with
arrows stickin' in us like quills, as Hogan says, into th' fretful
porcupine or we may be doin' a mile in five minyits flat down th' pike
that leads to Cape Town pursued be th' less fleet but more ignorant
Boers peltin' us with guns full iv goold an' bibles, but in th' pages iv
histhry that our childhren read we niver turned back on e'er an inimy.
We make our own gloryous pages on th' battlefield, in th' camp an' in
th' cab'net meetin'."
"Well, 't is all r-right f'r ye to be jokin'," said Mr. Hennessy, "but
there's manny a brave fellow down there that it's no joke to."
"Thrue f'r ye," said Mr. Dooley, "an' that's why I wisht it cud be fixed
up so's th' men that starts th' wars could do th' fightin'. Th' throuble
is that all th' prelimin'ries is arranged be matchmakers an' all they'se
left f'r fighters is to do th' murdherin'. A man's got a good job at
home an' he wants to make it sthronger. How can he do it? Be throwin'
out some one that's got an akelly good job down th' sthreet. Now he
don't go over as I wud an' say, 'Here Schwartzmeister (or Kruger as th'
case may be) I don't like ye'er appearance, ye made a monkey iv me in
argymint befure th' neighborhood an' if ye continyue in business ye'll
hurt me thrade, so here goes to move ye into th' sthreet!' Not that la-
ad. He gets a crowd around him an' says he: 'Kruger (or Schwartzmeister
as th' case may be) is no good. To begin with he's a Dutchman. If that
ain't enough he's a cantin', hymn singin' murdhrous wretch that wuddent
lave wan iv our counthrymen ate a square meal if he had his way. I'll
give ye all two dollars a week if ye'll go over an' desthroy him.' An'
th' other la-ad, what does he do? He calls in th' neighbors an' says he:
'Dooley is sindin' down a gang iv savages to murdher me. Do ye lave
ye'er wurruk an' ye'er families an' rally ar-round me an' where ye see
me plug hat wave do ye go in th' other direction,' he says, 'an' slay
th' brutal inimy,' he says. An' off goes th' sojers an' they meet a lot
iv la-ads that looks like thimsilves an' makes sounds that's more or
less human an' ates out iv plates an' they swap smokin' tobacco an'
sings songs together an' th' next day they're up early jabbing holes in
each other with baynits. An' whin its all over they'se me an'
Chamberlain at home victoryous an' Kruger an' Schwartzmeister at home
akelly victoryous. An' they make me prime minister or aldherman but whin
I want a man to put in me coal I don't take wan with a wooden leg.
"I'll niver go down again to see sojers off to th' war. But ye'll see me
at th' depot with a brass band whin th' men that causes wars starts f'r
th' scene iv carnage. Whin Congress goes forth to th' sun-kissed an'
rain jooled isles iv th' Passyfic no more heartier cheer will be beard
thin th' wan or two that rises fr'm th' bosom iv Martin Dooley. Says I,
give thim th' chanst to make histhry an' lave th' young men come home
an' make car wheels. If Chamberlain likes war so much 'tis him that
ought to be down there in South Africa peltin' over th' road with ol'
Kruger chasin' him with a hoe. Th' man that likes fightin' ought to be
willin' to turn in an' spell his fellow-counthrymen himsilf. An' I'd
even go this far an' say that if Mack wants to subjoo th' dam
"Ye're a thraitor," said Mr. Hennessy.
"I know it," said Mr. Dooley, complacently.
"Ye're an anti-expansionist."
"If ye say that again," cried Mr. Dooley, angrily, "I'll smash in ye'er
UNDERESTIMATING THE ENEMY
"What d'ye think iv th' war?" Mr. Hennessy asked.
"I think I want to go out an' apologize to Shafter," said Mr. Dooley.
"I'm like ivrybody else, be hivins, I thought war was like shootin'
glass balls. I niver thought iv th' glass balls thrainin' a dinnymite
gun on me. 'Tis a thrait iv us Anglo-Saxons that we look on an inimy as
a target. If ye hit him ye get three good see-gars. We're like people
that dhreams iv fights. In me dhreams I niver lost wan fight. A man I
niver saw befure comes up an' says something mane to me, that I can't
raymimber, an' I climb into him an' 'tis all over in a minyit. He niver
hits me, or if he does I don't feel it. I put him on his back an' bate
him to death. An' thin I help mesilf to his watch an' chain an' me
frinds come down an' say, 'Martin, ye haven't a scratch,' an' con-
grathlate me, an' I wandher ar-roun' th' sthreets with a chip on me
shoulder till I look down an' see that I haven't a stitch on me but a
short shirt. An' thin I wake up. Th' list iv knock-outs to me credit in
dhreams wud make Fitzsimmons feel poor. But ne'er a wan iv thim was
printed in th' pa-apers."
"'Tis so with me frinds, th' hands acrost th' sea. They wint to sleep
an' had a dhream. An' says they: 'We will sind down to South Africa thim
gallant throops that have won so manny hard-fought reviews,' they says,
'captained,' they says, 'be th' flower iv our aristocracy,' they says.
'An' whin th' Boers come out ar-rmed with rollin' pins an' bibles,' they
says, 'We'll just go at thim,' they says, 'an' walk through thim an'
that night we'll have a cotillyon at Pretoria to which all frinds is
invited,' they says. An' so they deposit their intellects in th' bank at
home, an' th' absent-minded beggars goes out in thransports iv
pathreetism an' pothry. An' they'se a meetin' iv th' cabinet an' 'tis
decided that as th' war will on'y las' wan week 'twill be well f'r to
begin renamin' th' cities iv th' Thransvaal afther pop'lar English
statesmen--Joechamberlainville an' Rhodesdorp an' Beitfontein. F'r they
have put their hands to th' plough an' th' sponge is squeezed dhry, an'
th' sands iv th' glass have r-run out an' th' account is wiped clean."
"An' what's th' Boer doin' all this time? What's me frind th' Boer
doin'. Not sleepin', Hinnissy, mind ye. He hasn't anny dhreams iv
conquest. But whin a man with long whiskers comes r-ridin' up th' r-road
an' says: 'Jan Schmidt or Pat O'Toole or whativer his name is, ye're
wanted at th' front,' he goes home an' takes a rifle fr'm th' wall an'
kisses his wife an' childher good-bye an' puts a bible in th' tails iv
his coat an' a stovepipe hat on his head an' thramps away. An' his wife
says: 'Good-bye, Jan. Don't be long gone an' don't get shooted.' An' he
says: 'Not while I've got a leg undher me an' a rock in front iv me,' he
says. I tell ye, Hinnissy, ye can't beat a man that fights f'r his home
an' counthry in a stovepipe hat. He might be timpted f'r to come out
fr'm cover f'r his native land, but he knows if he goes home to his wife
with his hat mussed she won't like it, an' so he sets behind a rock an'
plugs away. If th' lid is knocked off he's fatally wounded."
"What's th' raysult, Hinnissy? Th' British marches up with their bands
playin' an' their flags flyin'. An' th' Boers squat behind a bouldher or
a three or set comfortable in th' bed iv a river an' bang away. Their
on'y thradition is that it's betther to be a live Boer thin a dead hero,
which comes, perhaps, to th' same thing. They haven't been taught f'r
hundherds iv years that 'tis a miracle f'r to be an officer an' a
disgrace to be a private sojer. They know that if they're kilt they'll
have their names printed in th' pa-apers as well as th' Markess iv
Doozleberry that's had his eyeglass shot out. But they ain't lookin' f'r
notoriety. All they want is to get home safe, with their counthry free,
their honor protected an' their hats in good ordher. An' so they hammer
away an' th' inimy keeps comin', an' th' varyous editions iv th' London
pa-apers printed in this counthry have standin' a line iv type
beginnin', 'I regret to state.'"
"All this, Hinnissy, comes fr'm dhreamin' dhreams. If th' British had
said, 'This unclean an' raypeecious people that we're against is also
very tough. Dirty though they be, they'll fight. Foul though their
nature is, they have ca'tridges in their belts. This not bein' England
an' th' inimy we have again us not bein' our frinds, we will f'rget th'
gloryous thraditions iv th' English an' Soudan ar-rmies an' instead iv
r-rushin' on thim sneak along yon kindly fence an' hit thim on th' back
iv th' neck,'--they'd be less, 'I r-regret-to-states' and more 'I'm
plazed-to-reports.' They wud so, an' I'm a man that's been through
columns an' columns iv war. Ye'll find, Hinnissy, that 'tis on'y ar-
rmies fights in th' open. Nations fights behind threes an' rocks. Ye can
put that in ye're little book. 'Tis a sayin' I made as I wint along."
"We done th' same way oursilves," said Mr. Hennessy.
"We did that," said Mr. Dooley. "We were in a dhream, too. Th' on'y
thing is th' other fellow was in a thrance. We woke up first. An' anny-
how I'm goin' to apologize to Shafter. He may not have anny medals f'r
standin' up in range iv th' guns but, be hivins, he niver dhrove his
buckboard into a river occypied be th' formerly loathed Castile."
THE WAR EXPERT
Mr. Dooley was reading the war news--not our war news but the war news
we are interested in--when Mr. Hennessy interrupted him to ask "What's a
"A war expert," said Mr. Dooley, "is a man ye niver heerd iv befure. If
ye can think iv annywan whose face is onfamilyar to ye an' ye don't
raymimber his name, an' he's got a job on a pa-aper ye didn't know was
published, he's a war expert. 'Tis a har-rd office to fill. Whin a war
begins th' timptation is sthrong f'r ivry man to grab hold iv a gun an
go to th' fr-ront. But th' war expert has to subjoo his cravin' f'r
blood. He says to himsilf 'Lave others seek th' luxuries iv life in
camp,' he says. 'F'r thim th' boat races acrost th' Tugela, th' romp
over the kopje, an' th' game iv laager, laager who's got th' laager?" he
says. 'I will stand be me counthry,' he says, 'close,' he says. 'If it
falls,' he says, 'it will fall on me,' he says. An' he buys himsilf a
map made be a fortune teller in a dhream, a box iv pencils an' a field
glass, an' goes an' looks f'r a job as a war expert. Says th' editor iv
th' pa-aper: 'I don't know ye. Ye must be a war expert,' he says. 'I
am,' says th' la-ad. 'Was ye iver in a war?' says th' editor. 'I've been
in nawthin' else,' says th' la-ad. 'Durin' th' Spanish-American War, I
held a good job as a dhramatic critic in Dedham, Matsachoosets,' he
says. 'Whin th' bullets flew thickest in th' Soodan I was spoortin'
editor iv th' Christyan Advocate,' he says. 'I passed through th'
Franco-Prooshan War an' held me place, an' whin th' Turks an' Rooshans
was at each other's throats, I used to lay out th' campaign ivry day on
a checker board,' he says. 'War,' he says, has no turrors f'r me,' he
says. 'Ye're th man f'r th' money,' says th' editor. An' he gets th'
"Thin th' war breaks out in earnest. No matther how manny is kilt,
annything that happens befure th' war expert gets to wurruk is on'y what
we might call a prelimin'ry skirmish. He sets down an' bites th' end iv
his pencil an' looks acrost th' sthreet an' watches a man paintin' a
sign. Whin th' man gets through he goes to th' window an' waits to see
whether th' polisman that wint into th' saloon is afther a dhrink or
sarvin' a warrant. If he comes r-right out 'tis a warrant. Thin he sets
back in a chair an' figures out that th' pitchers on th' wall pa-aper
ar-re all alike ivry third row. Whin his mind is thurly tuned up be
these inthricate problems, he dashes to his desk an' writes what you an'
I read th' nex' day in th' pa-apers."
"Clarence Pontoon, th' military expert iv th' London Mornin' Dhram,
reviewin' Gin'ral Buller's position on th' Tugela, says: 'It is manifest
fr'm th' dispatches tellin' that Gin'ral Buller has crost th' Tugela
River that Gin'ral Buller has crost th' Tugela River. This we r-read in
spite iv th' cinsor. Th' question is which side he has crost to. On
Friday he was on th' north side in th' mornin' an' on th' south side at
night, an' in th' river at noon. We heerd nawthin' Sathurdah mornin'.
Th' presumption is that they was nawthin' to hear. Therefore it is aisy
to imagine Gin'ral Buller, findin' his position on th' north side
ontenable an' his position on th' south side onbearable, is
thransportin' his troops up th' river on rafts an' is now engagin' th'
inimy between Spitzozone an' Rottenfontein, two imminsely sthrong
points. All this dimonsthrates th' footility an' foolishness iv
attimptin' to carry a frontal position agains' large, well-fed Dutchmen
with mud in th' fr-ront iv thim."
"'I cal'clate that it wud require thirty millyon thurly dauntless
Britions to ixicute such a manoover, tin Boers ar-rmed with pop bottles
bein' now considhered th' akel iv a brigade. What I wud do if I was
Buller, an' I thank Hivin I'm not, wud be move me ar-rmy in half-an-hour
over th' high but aisily accessible mountains to th' right iv
Crowrijoy's forces, an' takin' off me shoes so he cudden't hear thim
squeak, creep up behind th' Dutch an' lam their heads off. Afther this
sthroke 'twud be aisy f'r to get th' foorces iv Fr-rinch, Gatacre,
Methoon, an' Winston Churchill together some afthernoon, invite th'
inimy to a band concert, surround an' massacree thim. This adroit move
cud be ixicuted if Roberts wud on'y make use iv th' ixicillint bus
sarvice between Hokesmith an' Mikesmith. It is exthraordinary that th'
gin'ral on th' groun' has not seen th' possibilities so apparent at a
"That's wan kind iv war expert, Hinnissy. Another kind is th' wan that
gives it good to th' gover'mint. Says Willum McGlue, war expert iv th'
London Mornin' Growl, who's supposed to be cheek be jowl with Lord
Wolseley. 'England's greatness is slippin' away. Th' failure iv th'
gover'mint to provide a well-equipped, thurly pathriotic ar-rmy iv Boers
to carry on this war undher th' leadership iv gallant Joobert is goin'
to be our roonation. We ar-re bethrayed be a lazy, effete, side-
whiskered, golf-playin' gover'mint that wud rather lose this fight thin
win it because they ar-re tired iv holdin' office. What can be said f'r
public men so lost to shame that they spell Kopje with a "c" an' ar-re
sindin' Englishmen to th' ends iv th' wurruld to fight f'r England? Down
"Well sir, 'tis a gr-reat thing f'r a counthry to have th' likes iv thim
ar-round to direct manoovers that'd be gatherin' dust on th' shelf if
th' gin'rals had their say, an' to prove to th' wurruld that th' English
ar-re not frivolous, excitable people like us an' th' Frinch, but can
take a batin' without losin' their heads."
"Sure," said Mr. Hennessy, "tis not thim that does th' fightin'. Th' la-
ads with th' guns has that job."
"Well," said Mr. Dooley, "they'se two kinds iv fightin'. Th' experts
wants th' ar-rmy to get into Pretoria dead or alive, an' th' sojers
wants to get in alive. I'm no military expert, Hinnissy. I'm too well
known. But I have me own opinyon on th' war. All this talk about th'
rapid fire gun an' modhren methods iv warfare makes me wondher. They'se
not so much diff'rence between war now an' war whin I was a kid, as they
let on. Th' gun that shoots ye best fr'm a distance don't shoot ye so
well close to. A pile iv mud is a pile iv mud now just th' same as it
was whin Gin'ral Grant was pokin' ar-round. If th' British can get over
th' mud pile they win th' fight. If they can't they're done. That's all
they'se to it. Mos' men, sthrongest backs, best eyes an' th' ownership
iv th' mud piles. That's war, Hinnissy. Th' British have th' men.
They're shy iv backs, eyes an' mud piles, an' they will be until they
larn that sheep-herdin' an' gin'ralship ar-re diff'rent things, an' fill
up their ar-rmy with men that ar-re not fightin' f'r money or glory, but
because they want to get home to their wives alive."
"Ye talk like an' ol book," said Mr. Hennessy, in disgust. "Ye with ye-
re maundhrin' ar-re no betther thin thim expert la-ads."
"Well annyhow," said Mr. Dooley thoughtfully, "th' expert is sarvin' a
useful purpose. Th' papers says th' rapid fire gun'll make war in th'
future impossible. I don't think that, but I know th' expert will."
"If iver I wanted to go to war," said Mr. Dooley, "an' I niver did, th'
desire has passed fr'm me iv late. Ivry time I read iv th' desthructive
power iv modhern explosives col' chills chase each other up an' down me
"What's this here stuff they calls lyddite?" Mr. Hennessy asked.
"Well, 'tis th' divvle's own med'cine," said Mr. Dooley. "Compared with
lyddite joynt powdher is Mrs. Winslow's soothin' surup, an' ye cud lave
th' childher play base-ball with a can iv dinnymite. 'Tis as sthrong as
Gin'ral Crownjoy's camp th' day iv th' surrinder an' almost as sthrong
as th' pollytics iv Montana. Th' men that handles it is cased in six
inch armor an' played on be a hose iv ice wather. Th' gun that shoots it
is always blown up be th' discharge. Whin this deadly missile flies
through th' air, th' threes ar-re withered an' th' little bur-rds falls
dead fr'm th' sky, fishes is kilt in th' rivers, an' th' tillyphone
wires won't wurruk. Th' keen eyed British gunners an' corryspondints
watches it in its hellish course an' tur-rn their faces as it falls into
th' Boer trench. An' oh! th' sickly green fumes it gives off, jus' like
pizen f'r potato bugs! There is a thremenjous explosion. Th' earth is
thrown up f'r miles. Horses, men an' gun carredges ar-re landed in th'
British camp whole. Th' sun is obscured be Boer whiskers turned green.
Th' heart iv th' corryspondint is made sick be th' sight, an' be th'
thought iv th' fearful carnage wrought be this dhread desthroyer in th'
ranks iv th' brave but misguided Dutchmen. Th' nex' day deserters fr'm
th' Boer ranks reports that they have fled fr'm th' camp, needin' a
dhrink an' onable to stand th' scenes iv horror. They announce that th'
whole Boer ar-rmy is as green as wall paper, an' th' Irish brigade has
sthruck because ye can't tell their flag fr'm th' flag iv th' r-rest iv
th' Dutch. Th' Fr-rinch gin'ral in command iv th' Swedish corps lost his
complexion an' has been sint to th' hospital, an' Mrs. Gin'ral
Crownjoy's washin' that was hangin' on th' line whin th' bombardmint
comminced is a total wreck which no amount iv bluin' will save. Th'
deserters also report that manny iv th' Boers ar-re outspannin',
trekkin', loogerin', kopjein' an' veldtin' home to be dyed, f'r'tis not
known whether lyddite is a fast color or will come out in th' wash."
"In spite iv their heavy losses th' Boers kept up a fierce fire. They
had no lyddite, but with their other divvlish modhern explosives they
wrought thremenjous damage. F'r some hours shells burst with turr'ble
precision in th' British camp. Wan man who was good at figures counted
as manny as forty-two thousan' eight hundhred an' sivin burstin' within
a radyus iv wan fut. Ye can imagine th' hor-rible carnage. Colonel C. G.
F. K. L. M. N. O. P. Hetherington-Casey-Higgins lost his eye-glass tin
times, th' las' time almost swallowin' it, while ye'er faithful
corryspondint was rindered deaf be th' explosions. Another Irish
rig'mint has disappearded, th' Twelve Thousandth an' Eighth, Dublin
Fusiliers. Brave fellows, 'tis suspicted they mistook th' explosion of
lyddite f'r a Pathrick's Day procession an' wint acrost to take a look
"Murdher, but 'tis dhreadful to r-read about. We have to change all our
conciptions iv warfare. Wanst th' field was r-red, now 'tis a br-right
lyddite green. Wanst a man wint out an' died f'r his counthry, now they
sind him out an' lyddite dyes him. What do I mane? 'Tis a joke I made.
I'll not explane it to ye. Ye wudden't undherstand it. 'Tis f'r th'
"How they're iver goin' to get men to fight afther this I cudden't tell
ye. 'Twas bad enough in th' ol' days whin all that happened to a sojer
was bein' pinithrated be a large r-round gob iv solder or stuck up on
th' end iv a baynit be a careless inimy. But now-a-days, they have th'
bullet that whin it enthers ye tur-rns ar-round like th' screw iv a
propeller, an' another wan that ye might say goes in be a key-hole an'
comes out through a window, an' another that has a time fuse in it an'
it doesn't come out at all but stays in ye, an' mebbe twinty years
afther, whin ye've f'rgot all about it an' ar-re settin' at home with
ye'er fam'ly, bang! away it goes an' ye with it, carryin' off half iv
th' roof. Thin they have guns as long as fr'm here to th' rollin' mills
that fires shells as big as a thrunk. Th' shells are loaded like a
docthor's bag an' have all kinds iv things in thim that won't do a bit
iv good to man or beast. If a sojer has a weak back there's something in
th' shell that removes a weak back; if his head throubles him, he can
lose it; if th' odher iv vilets is distasteful to him th' shell smothers
him in vilet powdher. They have guns that anny boy or girl who knows th'
typewriter can wurruk, an' they have other guns on th' music box plan,
that ye wind up an' go away an' lave, an' they annoy anny wan that comes
along. They have guns that bounces up out iv a hole in th' groun', fires
a millyon shells a minyit an' dhrops back f'r another load. They have
guns that fire dinnymite an' guns that fire th' hateful, sickly green
lyddite that makes th' inimy look like fiat money, an' guns that fire
canned beef f'r th' inimy an' distimper powdher for th' inimy's horses.
An' they have some guns that shoot straight."
"Well, thin," Mr. Hennessy grumbled, "it's a wondher to me that with all
thim things they ain't more people kilt. Sure, Gin'ral Grant lost more
men in wan day thin th' British have lost in four months, an' all he had
to keep tab on was ol' fashioned bullets an' big, bouncin' iron balls."
"Thrue," said Mr. Dooley. "I don't know th' reason, but it mus' be that
th' betther gun a man has th' more he thrusts th' gun an' th' less he
thrusts himsilf. He stays away an' shoots. He says to himsilf, he says:
'They'se nawthin' f'r me to do,' he says, 'but load up me little lyddite
cannon with th' green goods,' he says, 'an' set here at the organ,' he
says, 'pull out th' stops an' paint th' town iv Pretoria green,' he
says. 'But,' he says, 'on sicond thought, suppose th' inimy shud hand it
back to me,' he says. 'Twud be oncomfortable,' he says. 'So,' he says,
'I'll jus' move me music back a mile,' he says, 'an' peg away, an' th'
longest gun takes th' persimmons,' he says. 'Tis this way: If ye an' I
fall out an' take rifles to each other, 'tis tin to wan nayether iv us
gets clost enough to hit. If we take pistols th' odds is rayjooced. If
we take swords I may get a hack at ye, but if we take a half-nelson lock
'tis even money I have ye'er back broke befure th' polis comes."
"I can see in me mind th' day whin explosives'll be so explosive an'
guns'll shoot so far that on'y th' folks that stay at home'll be kilt,
an' life insurance agents'll be advisin' people to go into th' ar-rmy. I
can so. 'Tis thrue what Hogan says about it."
"What's that?" Mr. Hennessy asked.
"Th' nation," said Mr. Dooley, "that fights with a couplin' pin extinds
its bordhers at th' cost iv th' nation that fights with a clothes pole."
"Well, sir," said Mr. Dooley, "tis a fine rayciption th' Boer dillygates
is havin' in this counthry."
"They'll be out here nex' week," said Mr. Hennessy.
"They will that," Mr. Dooley replied, "an' we'll show thim that our
inthrest in small raypublics fightin' f'r their liberty ain't
disappeared since we become an impeeryal nation. No, sir. We have as
much inthrest as iver, but we have more inthrests elsewhere."
"Oom Paul, he says to th' la-ads: 'Go,' he says, 'to me good an' great
frind, Mack th' Wanst, an' lay th' case befure him,' he says. 'Tell
him,' he says, 'that th' situation is just th' same as it was durin'
Wash'nton's time,' he says, 'on'y Wash'nton won, an' we're rapidly
losin' kopjes till we soon won't have wan to sthrike a match on,' he
says. An' off goes th' good men. Whin they started the Boers was doin'
pretty well, Hinnissy. They were fightin' Englishmen, an' that's a lawn
tinnis to a rale fightin' man. But afther awhile the murdherin' English
gover'mint put in a few recreent but gallant la-ads fr'm th' ol' dart--
we ought to be proud iv thim, curse thim--Pat O'Roberts, an' Mike
McKitchener, an' Terrence O'Fr-rinch--an' they give th' view--halloo an'
wint through th' Dutch like a party comin' home fr'm a fifteenth iv
August picnic might go through a singerbund. So be th' time th'
dillygates got to Europe it was: 'James, if thim br-rave but misguided
Dutch appears, squirt th' garden hose on thim. I'll see th' British
embassadure this afthernoon.' Ye see, Hinnissy, 'twas ol' Kruger's play
to keep on winnin' battles till th' dillygates had their say. Th' amount
iv sympathy that goes out f'r a sthrugglin' people is reg'lated,
Hinnissy, be th' amount iv sthrugglin' th' people can do. Th' wurruld,
me la-ad, is with th' undher dog on'y as long as he has a good hold an'
a chanst to tur-rn over."
"Well, sir, whin th' dillygates see they cudden't do business in Europe,
says they to thimsilves: 'We'll pike acrost th' ragin' sea,' they says,
'an in th' home iv Wash'nton, Lincoln, an' Willum J. Bryan, ye bet we'll
have a hearin',' an' they got wan. Ivrybody's listenin' to thim. But no
wan replies. If they'd come here three months ago, befure Crownjoy was
suffocated out iv his hole in th' groun', they'd be smokin' their pipes
in rockin' chairs on th' veranda iv th' white house an' passin' th'
bucket between thim an' Mack. But 'tis diff'rent now. 'Tis diff'rent
now. Says Willum J. Bryan: 'I can't see thim mesilf, f'r it may not be
long befure I'll have to dale with these inthricate problems, I hope an'
pray, but Congressman Squirtwather, do ye disguise ye'ersilf as a
private citizen an' go down to th' hotel an' tell these la-ads that I'm
with thim quietly if public opinyon justifies it an' Mack takes th'
other side. Tell thim I frequently say to mesilf that they're all r-
right, but I wudden't want it to go further. Perhaps they cud be
injooced to speak at a dimmycratic meetin' unbeknown to me,' he says.
"Sicrety Hay meets thim in a coal cellar, wearin' a mask. 'Gintlemen,'
says he, 'I can assure ye th' prisidint an' mesilf feels mos' deeply f'r
ye. I needn't tell ye about mesilf,' he says. 'Haven't I sint me own son
into ye'er accursed but liberty-lovin' counthry,' he says. 'As f'r Mack,
I assure ye he's hear-rtbroken over th' tur-rn affairs have taken,' he
says. 'Early in th' war he wrote to Lord Salisberry, sayin' he hoped
'twud not be continyued to iliction day, an' Salisberry give him a gruff
response. Tur-rned him down, though both ar-re Anglo-Saxons,' he says.
'Las' night his sobs fairly shook th' white house as he thought iv ye
an' ye'er sthruggle. He wants to tell ye how much he thinks iv ye, an'
he'll meet ye in th' carredge house if ye'll shave off ye'er whiskers
an' go as clam-peddlers. Ye'll reco'nize him in a green livery. He'll
wear a pink carnation in his buttonhole. Give th' names iv Dorsey an'
Flannagan, an' if th' English ambassadure goes by get down on ye'er
ban's an' knees an' don't make a sign till he's out iv sight,' he says.
'Th' stout party in blue near by'll be Mark Hanna. He may be able to
arrange a raypublican meetin' f'r ye to addhress,' he says. 'The gr-
reat hear-rt iv th' raypublican party throbs f'r ye. So does Mack's,' he
says. 'So does mine,' he says."
"Well, th' dillygates met Mack an' they had a pleasant chat. 'Will ye,'
says they, 'inthervene an' whistle off th' dogs iv war?' they says.
'Whisper,' says Mack, th' tears flowin' down his cheeks. 'Iver since
this war started me eyes have been fixed on th' gallant or otherwise,
nation or depindancy, fightin' its brave battle f'r freedom or rebellin'
again' th' sov'reign power, as the case may be,' he says. 'Unofficially,
my sympathy has gone out to ye, an' bur-rnin' wurruds iv unofficial
cheer has been communicated unofficially be me to me official fam'ly,
not, mind ye, as an official iv this magnificent an' liberty-lovin'
raypublic, but as a private citizen,' he says. 'I feel, as a private
citizen, that so long,' he says, 'as the br-right star iv liberty shines
resplindent over our common counthries, with th' example iv Washin'ton
in ye'er eyes, an' th' iliction comin' on, that ye must go forward an'
conker or die,' he says. 'An',' he says, 'Willum McKinley is not th' man
to put annything in ye'er way,' he says. 'Go back to me gr-reat an' good
frind an' tell him that th' hear-rt iv th' raypublican party throbs f'r
him,' he says. 'An' Sicrety Hay's,' he says, 'an' mine,' he says,
'unofficially,' he says. 'Me official hear-rt,' he says, 'is not
permitted be th' constitootion to throb durin' wurrukin' hours,' he
"An' so it goes. Ivrywhere th' dillygates tur-rns they see th' sign:
'This is me busy day.' An' whin they get back home they can tell th'
people they found th' United States exudin' sympathy at ivry pore--
"Don't ye think th' United States is enthusyastic f'r th' Boers?" asked
the innocent Hennessy.
"It was," said Mr. Dooley. "But in th' las' few weeks it's had so manny
things to think iv. Th' enthusyasm iv this counthry, Hinnissy, always
makes me think iv a bonfire on an ice-floe. It burns bright so long as
ye feed it, an' it looks good, but it don't take hold, somehow, on th'
THE CHINESE SITUATION
"Well, sir," said Mr. Hennessy, "to think iv th' audacity iv thim
Chinymen! It do bate all."
"It do that," said Mr. Dooley. "It bates th' wurruld. An' what's it
comin' to? You an' me looks at a Chinyman as though he wasn't good f'r
annything but washin' shirts, an' not very good at that. Tis wan iv th'
spoorts iv th' youth iv our gr-reat cities to rowl an impty beer keg
down th' steps iv a Chinee laundhry, an' if e'er a Chinyman come out to
resint it they'd take him be th' pigtail an' do th' joynt swing with
him. But th' Chinyman at home's a diff'rent la-ad. He's with his frinds
an' they're manny iv thim an' he's rowlin' th' beer kegs himsilf an'
Westhren Civilization is down in th' laundhry wondhrin' whin th'
police'll come along."
"Th' Lord f'rgive f'r sayin' it, Hinnissy, but if I was a Chinyman,
which I will fight anny man f'r sayin,' an' was livin' at home, I'd tuck
me shirt into me pants, put me braid up in a net, an' go out an' take a
fall out iv th' in-vader if it cost me me life. Here am I, Hop Lung
Dooley, r-runnin' me little liquor store an' p'rhaps raisin' a family in
th' town iv Koochoo. I don't like foreigners there anny more thin I do
here. Along comes a bald-headed man with chin whiskers from Baraboo,
Wisconsin, an' says he: 'Benighted an' haythen Dooley,' says he, 'ye
have no God,' he says. 'I have,' says I. 'I have a lot iv thim,' says I.
'Ye ar-re an oncultivated an' foul crather,' he says. 'I have come six
thousan' miles f'r to hist ye fr'm th' mire iv ignorance an' irrellijon
in which ye live to th' lofty plane iv Baraboo,' he says. An' he sets
down on an aisy chair, an' his wife an' her friends come in an' they
inthrojooce Mrs. Dooley to th' modhren improvements iv th' corset an'
th' hat with th' blue bur-rd onto it, an' put shame into her because she
hasn't let her feet grow, while th' head mission'ry reads me a pome out
iv th' _Northwesthren Christyan Advocate_. 'Well,' says I, 'look
here, me good fellow,' I says. 'Me an' me people has occypied these here
primises f'r manny years,' I says, 'an' here we mean to stay,' I says.
'We're doin' th' best we can in th' matther iv gods,' says I. 'We have
thim cast at a first-rate foundhry,' I says, 'an' we sandpa-aper thim
ivry week,' says I. 'As f'r knowin' things,' I says, 'me people wrote
pomes with a markin' brush whin th' likes iv ye was r-runnin' ar-round
wearin' a short pelisse iv sheepskins an' batin' each other to death
with stone hammers,' says I. An' I'm f'r firin' him out, but bein' a
quite man I lave him stay."
"Th' nex' day in comes a man with a suit iv clothes that looks like a
tablecloth in a section house, an' says he: 'Poor ignorant haythen,' he
says, 'what manner iv food d'ye ate?' he says. 'Rice,' says I, 'an' rats
is me fav'rite dish,' I says. 'Deluded wretch,' says he. 'I riprisint
Armour an' Company, an' I'm here to make ye change ye'er dite,' he says.
'Hinceforth ye'll ate th' canned roast beef iv merry ol' stock yards or
I'll have a file iv sojers in to fill ye full iv ondygistible lead,' he
says. An' afther him comes th' man with Aunt Miranda's Pan Cakes an'
Flaked Bran an' Ye'll-perish-if-ye-don't-eat-a-biscuit an' other
riprisintatives iv Westhern Civilization, an' I'm to be shot if I don't
take thim all."
"Thin a la-ad runs down with a chain an' a small glass on three sticks
an' a gang iv section men that answers to th' name iv Casey, an' pro-
ceeds f'r to put down a railroad. 'What's this f'r?' says I. 'We ar-re
th' advance guard iv Westhren Civilization,' he says, 'an we're goin' to
give ye a railroad so ye can go swiftly to places that ye don't want to
see,' he says. 'A counthry that has no railroads is beneath contimpt,'
he says. 'Casey,' he says,'sthretch th' chain acrost yon graveyard,' he
says. 'I aim f'r to put th' thrack just befure that large tombstone
marked Riquiescat in Pace, James H. Chung-a-lung,' he says. 'But,' says
I, 'ye will disturb pah's bones,' says I, 'if ye go to layin' ties,' I
says. 'Ye'll be mixin' up me ol' man with th' Cassidy's in th' nex' lot
that,' I says, 'he niver spoke to save in anger in his life,' I says.
'Ye're an ancestor worshiper, heathen,' says the la-ad, an' he goes on
to tamp th' mounds in th' cimitry an ballast th' thrack with th' remains
iv th' deceased. An' afther he's got through along comes a Fr-rinchman,
an' an Englishman, an' a Rooshan, an' a Dutchman, an' says wan iv them:
'This is a comfortable lookin' saloon,' he says. 'I'll take th' bar, ye
take th' ice-box an' th' r-rest iv th' fixtures.' 'What f'r?' says I.
'I've paid th' rent an' th' license,' says I. 'Niver mind,' says he.
'We're th' riprisintatives iv Westhren Civilization,' he says, 'an' 'tis
th' business iv Westhren Civilization to cut up th' belongings iv
Easthren Civilization,' he says. 'Be off,' he says, 'or I'll pull ye'er
hair,' he says. 'Well,' says I, 'this thing has gone far enough,' I
says. 'I've heerd me good ol' cast-iron gods or josses abused,' I says,
'an' I've been packed full iv canned goods, an' th' Peking Lightnin'
Express is r-runnin' sthraight through th' lot where th' bones iv me
ancesthors lies,' I says. 'I've shtud it all,' I says, 'but whin ye come
here to bounce me off iv me own primises,' I says, 'I'll have to take
th' leg iv th' chair to ye,' I says. An' we're to th' flure."
"That's th' way it stands in Chiny, Hinnissy, an' it looks to me as
though Westhren Civilization was in f'r a bump. I mind wanst whin a
dhrunk prize fighter come up th' r-road and wint to sleep on Slavin's
steps. Some iv th' good sthrong la-ads happened along an' they were near
bein' at blows over who shud have his watch an' who shud take his hat.
While they were debatin' he woke up an' begin cuttin' loose with hands
an' feet, an' whin he got through he made a collection iv th' things
they dhropped in escapin' an' marched ca'mly down th' sthreet. Mebbe
'twill tur-rn out so in Chiny, Hinnissy. I see be th' pa-apers that
they'se four hundherd millyons iv thim boys an' be hivins! 'twuddent
surprise me if whin they got through batin' us at home, they might say
to thimsilves: 'Well, here goes f'r a jaunt ar-roun' the wurruld.' Th'
time may come, Hinnissey, whin ye'll be squirtin' wather over Hop Lee's
shirt while a man named Chow Fung kicks down ye'er sign an' heaves rocks
through ye'er windy. The time may come, Hinnissy. Who knows?"
"End ye'er blather," said Mr. Hennessy. "They won't be anny Chinymen
left whin Imp'ror Willum gets through."
"Mebbe not," says Mr. Dooley. "He's a sthrong man. But th' Chinymen have
been on earth a long time, an' I don't see how we can push so manny iv
thim off iv it. Annyhow, 'tis a good thing f'r us they ain't Christyans
an' haven't larned properly to sight a gun."
"Well, sir, me little Chinee frind Woo must be havin' th' time iv his
life in Wash'nton these warm days," said Mr. Dooley.
"Who's he?" asked Mr. Hennessy.
"He's th' Chinee ministher," said Mr. Dooley, "an' his business is f'r
to supply fresh hand-laundhried misinformation to the sicrety iv state.
Th' sicrety iv state is settin' in his office feelin' blue because he's
just heerd be a specyal corryspondint iv th' London Daily Pail at
Sydney, Austhreelya, who had it fr'm a slatewriter in Duluth that an ar-
rmy iv four hundherd an' eight thousan' millyon an' sivinty-five
bloodthirsty Chinee, ar-rmed with flatirnes an' cryin', 'Bung Loo!'
which means, Hinnissy, 'Kill th' foreign divvles, dhrive out th'
missionries, an' set up in Chiny a gover'mint f'r the Chinee,' is
marchin' on Vladivostook in Siberyia, not far fr'm Tinsin."
A knock comes at th' dure an' Woo enthers. 'Well,' says he, with a happy
smile, ''tis all right.' 'What's all right?' says the sicrety iv state.
'Ivrything,' says Woo. 'I have just found a letter sewed in a shirt fr'm
me frind Lie Much, th' viceroy iv Bumbang. It is dated th' fourth hour
iv th' third day iv th' eighth or green-cheese moon,' he says. 'What day
is that?' says the sicrety iv state. 'It's Choosdah, th' fourth iv July;
Winsdah, th' eighth iv October, an' Thursdah, the sivinteenth iv March,'
he says. 'Pathrick's day,' says th' sicrety iv state. 'Thrue f'r ye,'
says Woo. 'What year?' says Jawn Hay. 'The year iv th' big wind,' says
Woo. 'Good,' says John Hay, 'proceed with ye'er story.' 'Here's th'
letther,' says Woo. 'I know 'tis genooyine because it is an ol' dhress
patthern used be th' impress. It says: 'Oscar Woo, care iv himsilf,
annywhere: Dear Woo, brother iv th' moon, uncle iv th' sun, an' roommate
iv th' stars, dear sir: Yours iv th' eighth day iv th' property moon
rayceived out iv th' air yesterdah afthernoon or to-morrow, an' was glad
to note ye ar-re feelin' well. Ivrything over here is th' same ol' pair
iv boots. Nawthin' doin'. Peking is as quiet as th' gr-rave. Her
majesty, th' impress, is sufferin' slightly fr'm death be poison, but is
still able to do th' cookin' f'r the Rooshan ambassadure. Th' impror was
beheaded las' week an' feels so much betther f'r the op'ration that he
expicts to be quarthered nex' Sundah. He's always wanted to rayjooce his
weight. Some iv th' Boxers called on th' foreigners at Tinsin las' week
an' met a warrum rayciption. Th' foreigners aftherward paid a visit to
thim through a hole in th' wall, an' a jolly day concluded with a foot
race, at which our people are becomin' expert. Some iv th' boys expicts
to come up to Peking nex' week, an' th' people along th' line iv th'
railroad are gettin' ready f'r thim. This is really all the news I have,
excipt that cherries ar-re ripe. Me pin is poor, me ink is dhry, me love
f'r you can niver die. Give me regards to Sicrety Hay whin he wakes up.
I remain, illusthrus cousin iv th' risin' dawn, thruly ye'ers, Li.
P. S.--If ye need anny more information take a longer dhraw.'
"'That,' says Woo, 'is wan way iv r-readin' it. Read upside down it says
that the impress has become a Swedenboorjan. I will r-read it standin'
on me head whin I get home where I can pin down me overskirt; thin I'll
r-read it in a lookin' glass; thin I'll saw it into sthrips an' r-run it
through a wringer an' lave it stand in a tub iv bluein', an' whin its
properly starched I'll find out what it says. Fin'lly I'll cut it into
small pieces an' cook with rice an' lave it to rest in a cool place, an'
thin 'twill r-read even betther. I hope ye're satisfied,' he says. 'I
am,' says Jawn Hay. 'I'll tillygraft to Mark that ivrything is all r-
right,' he says, 'an' that our relations with his majesty or her majesty
or their Boxerships or th' Down-with-th'-foreign-divvlers or whoiver's
runnin' th' shop over beyant are as they ought to be or worse or
betther, as th' case may be,' he says. 'Good,' says Woo, 'ye're a man
afther me own heart,' he says. 'I'll sind ye a little book wrote be a
frind iv mine in Peking,' he says. ''Tis called "Heart to Heart Lies I
Have Had," he says. 'Ye'll like it,' he says. 'In the manetime,' he
says, 'I must write a secret message to go out be to-night's hot-air
express to me corryspondint in Meriden, Connecticut, urgin' him to sind
more im-peeryal edicks iv a fav'r-able nature,' he says. 'I've on'y had
twinty so far, an' I'm gettin' scrivener's palsy,' he says. 'But befure
I go,' he says, 'I bet ye eight millyon yens, or three dollars an'
eighty-four cints iv ye'er money, that ye can't pick out th' shell this
here pea is undher,' he says. An' they set down to a game iv what is
known at Peking as diplomacy, Hinnissy, but on Randolph sthreet viadock
is called the double dirty."
"I don't believe wan wurrud iv what's in th' pa-apers about Chiny," said
"Well," said Mr. Dooley, "if ye believe annything ye'll believe
ivrything. 'Tis a grand contist that's goin' on between Westhren an'
Easthren civilliezation. 'Tis a joke iv me own, Hinnissy, an' ye'd
undherstand it if ye knew spellin. Th' Westhren civilization, Hinnissy
--that's us--is a pretty good liar, but he's a kind iv rough-an'-tumble
at it. He goes in head down, an' ivry lie he tells looks like all th'
others. Ye niver see an Englishman that had anny judgment in lyin'. Th'
corryspondint iv th' Daily Pail is out iv his class. He's carryin' lies
to Lieville. How in th' wurruld can we compete with a counthry where
ivry lab'rer's cottage projooces lies so delicate that th' workmen iv
th' West can't undherstand thim? We make our lies be machinery; they
tur-rn out theirs be hand. They imitate th' best iv our canned lies to
deceive people that likes that kind, but f'r artists they have lies that
appeals to a more refined taste. Sure I'd like to live among thim an'
find out th' kind iv bouncers they tell each other. They must be gr-
rand. I on'y know their export lies now--th' surplus lies they can't use
at home. An' th' kind they sind out ar-re betther thin our best. Our
lies is no more thin a conthradiction iv th' thruth; their lies appeals
to th' since iv honesty iv anny civilized man."
"They can't hurt us with their lies," said Mr. Hennessy of our Western
civilization. "We have th' guns an' we'll bate thim yet"
"Yes," said Mr. Dooley, "an' 'twill be like a man who's had his house
desthroyed be a cyclone gettin' up an' kickin' at th' air."
THE FUTURE OF CHINA
"Be th' time th' Chinese gets through with this here job o' theirs,"
said Mr. Dooley, "they'll know a thing or two about good manners an'
"They need thim," said Mr. Hennessy.
"They do so," said Mr. Dooley. "An' they'll get thim. By an' by th'
allied foorces will proceed to Peking. It may not be in ye'er life time
or in mine, or in th' life time iv th' ministhers, Hinnissy. They ar-re
in no hurry. Th' ministhers ar-re as comfortable as they can be on a
dite iv polo ponies an' bamboo, an' they have exercise enough dodgin'
cannon balls to have no fear iv indygisthion. They'se no need of haste.
Th' allied foorces must take no step forward while wan ar-rmed foe
survives. It was rayported last week that th' advance had begun, but on
sindin' out scouts 'twas discovered that th' asphalt road to th' capital
was not r-ready an' th' gallant sojer boys was afraid to risk their
beecycles on a defictive pavement. Thin th' parlor cars ordhered be th'
Rooshan admiral has not arrived an' wan iv th' Frinch gin'rals lost an
omelette, or whativer 'tis they wear on their shouldhers, an' he won't
budge till it can be replaced fr'm Pahrs. A sthrong corps iv miners an'
sappers has gone ahead f'r to lo-cate good resthrants on th' line iv
march, but th' weather is cloudy an' th' silk umbrellys haven't arrived,
an' they'se supposed to be four hundhred millyon Chiny-men with
pinwheels an' Roman candles blockin' th' way, so th' advance has been
postponed indifinitely. Th' American foorces is r-ready f'r to start
immejately, but they ar-re not there yet. Th' British gin'ral is waitin'
f'r th' Victorya cross befure he does annything, an' th' Japanese an'
th' Rooshan is dancin' up an' down sayin' 'Afther you, me boy.'"
"But afther awhile, whin th' frost is on th' pumpkin an' th' corn is in
th' shock, whin th' roads has been repaired, an' ivry gin'ral's lookin'
his best, an' in no danger iv a cold on th' chist, they'll prance away.
An' whin they get to th' city iv Peking a fine cillybration is planned
be th' mission'ries. I see th' programme in th' pa-aper: First day, 10
A.M., prayers be th' allied mission'ries; 1 P.M., massacree iv the
impress an' rile fam'ly; sicond day, 10 A.M., scatthrin' iv remains iv
former kings; 11 A.M., disecration iv graves gin'rally; 2 P.M.,
massacree iv all gin'rals an' coort officials; third day, 12 noon,
burnin' iv Peking; foorth day, gran' pop'lar massacree an' division iv
territ'ry, th' cillybration to close with a rough-an'-tumble fight among
"'Twill be a gr-reat occasion, Hinnissy, an' be-dad I'd like to be there
to see it. Ye can't go too sthrong again' th' Chinee. Me frind th'
impror iv Germany put it right. 'Brave boys,' says he, 'ye ar-re goin'
out now,' he says, 'f'r to carry th' light iv Christyanity,' he says,
'an' th' teachin's iv th' German Michael,' he says, 'to th' benighted
haythen beyant,' he says. 'Me an' Mike is watchin' ye' he says, 'an' we
ixpict ye to do ye'er duty,' he says. 'Through you,' he says, 'I propose
to smash th' vile Chinee with me mailed fist,' he says. 'This is no six-
ounce glove fight, but demands a lunch-hook done up in eight-inch armor
plate,' he says. 'Whin ye get among th' Chinee,' he says, 'raymimber
that ye ar-re the van guard iv Christyanity,' he says, 'an' stick ye'er
baynet through ivry hated infidel ye see,' he says. 'Lave thim
undherstand what our westhren civilization means,' he says, 'an' prod
thim good an' hard,' he says. 'Open their heads with ye'er good German
swords to Eu-ropyan culture an' refinement,' he says. 'Spare no man that
wears a pigtail,' he says. 'An,' he says, 'me an' th' German Michael
will smile on ye as ye kick th' linin' out iv th' dhragon an' plant on
th' walls iv Peking th' banner,' he says, 'iv th' cross, an',' he says,
'th' double cross,' he says. 'An' if be chance ye shud pick up a little
land be th' way, don't lave e'er a Frinchman or Rooshan take it fr'm ye,
or ye'll feel me specyal delivery hand on th' back iv ye'er neck in a
way that'll do ye no kind iv good. Hock German Michael,' he says, 'hock
me gran'father, hoch th' penny postage fist,' he says, 'hock mesilf,' he
says. An th' German impror wint back to his bedroom f'r to wurruk on th'
book he's goin' to br-ring out nex' year to take th' place iv th' bible.
"He's th' boy f'r me money. Whin th' German throops takes their part in
th' desthruction iv Peking they'll be none iv th' allied foorces 'll
stick deeper or throw th' backbone iv th' impress' ol' father higher
thin th' la-ads fr'm th' home iv th' sausage. I hope th' cillybration
'll occur on Chris'mas day. I'd like to hear th' sojers singin' 'Gawd r-
rest ye, merry Chinnymen' as they punchered thim with a baynit."
"'Twill be a good thing," said Mr. Hennessy.
"It will that," said Mr. Dooley.
"'Twill civilize th' Chinnymen," said Mr. Hennessy.
"'Twill civilize thim stiff," said Mr. Dooley. "An' it may not be a bad
thing f'r th' r-rest iv th' wurruld. Perhaps contack with th' Chinee may
civlize th' Germans."
"That sthrikes me as a gran' platform," said Mr. Hennessy. "I'm with it
fr'm start to finish."
"Sure ye are," said Mr. Dooley, "an' so ye'd be if it begun: 'We
denounce Terence Hinnissy iv th' Sixth Ward iv Chicago as a thraitor to
his country, an inimy iv civilization, an' a poor thing.' Ye'd say:
'While there are wan or two things that might be omitted, th' platform
as a whole is a statesmanlike docymint, an' wan that appeals to th'
intelligince iv American manhood.' That's what ye'd say, an' that's what
all th' likes iv ye'd say. An' whin iliction day comes 'round th' on'y
question ye'll ast ye'ersilf is: 'Am I with Mack or am I with Billy
Bryan?' An accordin'ly ye'll vote."
"'Tis always th' same way, an' all platforms is alike. I mind wanst whin
I was an alter-nate to th' county con-vintion--'twas whin I was a power
in pollytics an' th' on'y man that cud do annything with th' Bohemian
vote--I was settin' here wan night with a pen an' a pot iv ink befure
me, thryin' to compose th' platform f'r th' nex' day, f'r I was a lithry
man in a way, d'ye mind, an' I knew th' la-ads'd want a few crimps put
in th' raypublicans in a ginteel style, an' 'd be sure to call on me f'r
to do it. Well, I'd got as far down as th' tariff an' was thryin' f'r to
express me opinyon without swearin', whin who shud come in but Lafferty,
that was sicrety iv McMahon, that was th' Main Guy in thim days, but
aftherward thrun down on account iv him mixin' up between th' Rorkes an'
th' Dorseys. Th' Main Guy Down Town said he wudden't have no throuble in
th' ward, an' he declared McMahon out. McMahon had too much money
annyhow. If he'd kept on, dollar bills'd have been extinct outside iv
his house. But he was a sthrong man in thim days an' much liked."
"Anyhow, Lafferty, that was his sicrety, come in, an' says he: 'What are
ye doin' there?' says he. 'Step soft,' says I; 'I am at wurruk,' I says.
'Ye shudden't do lithry wurruk on an empty stomach,' says he. 'I do
nawthin' on an empty stomach but eat,' says I. 'I've had me supper,' I
says. 'Go 'way,' says I, 'till I finish th' platform,' I says. 'What's
th' platform?' says he.'F'r th' county con-vintion,' says I.
"Well, sir, he set down on a chair, an' I thought th' man was goin' to
die right there on the premises with laughter. 'Whin ye get through with
ye'er barkin',' says I, 'I'll throuble ye to tell me what ye may be
doin' it f'r,' I says. 'I see nawthin' amusin' here but ye'er prisince,'
I says, 'an' that's not a divvle iv a lot funnier than a wooden leg,' I
says, f'r I was mad. Afther awhile he come to, an' says he: 'Ye don't
raally think,' says he, 'that ye'll get a chanct to spring that
platform,' he says. 'I do,' says I. 'Why,' he says, 'the platform has
been adopted,' he says. 'Whin?' says I. 'Befure ye were born,' says he.
'In th' reign iv Bildad th' first,' says he--he was a larned man, was
Lafferty, though a dhrinkin' man. All sicreties iv pollyticians not in
office is dhrinkin' men, Hinnissy. 'Ive got th' copy iv it here in me
pocket,' he says. 'Th' boss give it to me to bring it up to date,' he
says. 'They was no sthrike last year an' we've got to put a sthrike
plank in th' platform or put th' prisident iv th' Lumber Shovers' union
on th' county board, an',' he says, 'they ain't room,' he says.
"'Why,' says Lafferty, 'ye ought to know th' histhry iv platforms,' he
says. An' he give it to me, an' I'll give it to ye. Years ago, Hinnissy,
manny years ago, they was a race between th' dimmycrats an' th'
raypublicans f'r to see which shud have a choice iv principles. Th'
dimmycrats lost. I dinnaw why. Mebbe they stopped to take a dhrink.
Annyhow, they lost. Th' raypublicans come up an' they choose th' 'we
commind' principles, an' they was nawthin' left f'r the dimmycrats but
th' 'we denounce an' deplores.' I dinnaw how it come about, but th'
dimmycrats didn't like th' way th' thing shtud, an' so they fixed it up
between thim that whichiver won at th' iliction shud commind an'
congratulate, an' thim that lost shud denounce an' deplore. An' so it's
been, on'y the dimmycrats has had so little chanct f'r to do annything
but denounce an' deplore that they've almost lost th' use iv th' other
"Mack sets back in Wash'nton an' writes a platform f'r th' comity on
risolutions to compose th' week afther. He's got a good job--forty-nine
ninety-two, sixty-six a month--an' 'tis up to him to feel good. 'I--I
mean we,' he says, 'congratulate th' counthry on th' matchless
statesmanship, on-shrinkin' courage, steady devotion to duty an'
principle iv that gallant an' hon'rable leader, mesilf,' he says to his
sicrety. 'Take that,' he says, 'an' elaborate it,' he says. 'Ye'll find
a ditchnry on th' shelf near the dure,' he says, 'if ye don't think I've
put what I give ye sthrong enough,' he says. 'I always was,' he says,
'too retirin' f'r me own good,' he says. 'Spin out th' r-rest,' he says,
'to make about six thousan' wurruds,' he says, 'but be sure don't write
annything too hot about th' Boer war or th' Ph'lippeens or Chiny, or th'
tariff, or th' goold question, or our relations with England, or th'
civil sarvice,' he says. 'Tis a foolish man,' he says,'that throws a
hunk iv coal fr'm his own window at th' dhriver iv a brick wagon,' he
"But with Billy Bryan 'tis diff'rent. He's out in Lincoln, Neebrasky,
far fr'm home, an' he says to himsilf: 'Me throat is hoarse, an' I'll
exercise me other fac'lties,' he says. 'I'll write a platform,' he says.
An' he sets down to a typewriter, an' denounces an' deplores till th'
hired man blows th' dinner horn. Whin he can denounce an' deplore no
longer he views with alarm an' declares with indignation. An' he sinds
it down to Kansas City, where th' cot beds come fr'm."
"Oh, ye're always pitchin' into some wan," said Mr. Hennessy. "I bet ye
Willum Jennings Bryan niver see th' platform befure it wint in. He's too
good a man."
"He is all iv that," said Mr. Dooley. "But ye bet he knows th' rale
platform f'r him is: 'Look at th' bad breaks Mack's made,' an' Mack's
platform is: 'Ye'd get worse if ye had Billy Bryan.' An' it depinds on
whether most iv th' voters ar-re tired out or on'y a little tired who's
ilicted. All excipt you, Hinnissy. Ye'll vote f'r Bryan?"
"I will," said Mr. Hennessy.
"Well," said Mr. Dooley, "d'ye know, I suspicted ye might."
THE YACHT RACES
"In th' ol' times whin I was a yachtsman--" began Mr. Dooley.
"Scowman," said Mr. Hennessy.
"Yachtsman," said Mr. Dooley. "Whin I was a yachtsman, all a man needed
to race was a flat-bottomed boat, an umbrella, an' a long dhrink. In
thim days 'twas 'Up with th' mainsail an' out with th' jib, an' Cap'n
Jawn first to th' Lake View pumpin' station f'r th' see-gars.' Now 'tis
'Ho, f'r a yacht race. Lave us go an' see our lawyers.' 'Tis 'Haul away
on th' writ iv ne exeat,' an' 'Let go th' peak capias.' 'Tis 'Pipe all
hands to th' Supreme Coort.' 'Tis 'A life on th' boundin' docket an' a
home on th' rowlin' calendar.' Befure we die, Sir Lipton'll come over
here f'r that Cup again an' we'll bate him be gettin' out an overnight
injunction. What's th' use iv buildin' a boat that's lible to tip an'
spill us all into th' wet? Turn th' matther over to th' firm iv Wiggins,
Schultz, O'Mally, Eckstein, Wopoppski, Billotti, Gomez, Olson, an'
McPherson, an' lave us have th' law on him."
"I don't suppose, Hinnissy, I ought to be gettin' off me little jokes on
a seeryous matther like this. What's it all about, says ye? Well, ye
see, 'tis this way. Wanst befure th' war some la-ad fr'm this counthry
took a boat acrost th' Atlantic an' run it again an English boat an' iv
coorse, he won, not bein' tied to th' dock, an' they give him a Cup. I
don't know why they give him a cup, but they give him a cup. He brought
it back here an' handed it to a yacht club, which is an assocyation,
Hinnissy, iv mimbers iv th' Bar. He says: 'Ye keep that cup on ye'er
mantle-piece an' if e'er an Englishman wants it, don't ye give it to
him.' Afther awhile, an Englishman that ownded a boat come afther th'
cup, an 'twas lave go altogether, an' th' las' man to th' line knows
what he is. He's an Englishman, iv coorse. That was all r-right too. But
th' time come whin th' lagal pro-fission took a hand in th' game. 'Look
here,' says they. 'Ye've vilated nearly all th' statues iv th' State iv
Noo Jarsey already,' they says, 'an' if ye ain't careful, ye'll be
hauled up f'r contimpt iv coort,' they says. So they took th' matther in
hand an' dhrew up th' r-right pa-apers. 'State iv Noo York, county iv
Cook, s. s. Know all men be these prisints. To all magisthrates an'
polis officers, greetin.' In re Sir Lipton again th' Cup. Ordhered that
if Sir Lipton shall secure said Cup fr'm aforesaid (which he won't) he
must build a boat as follows: Wan hundherd an' twinty chest, fifty-four
waist, hip an' side pockets, carryin' three hundherd an' sixty-three
thousan' cubic feet iv canvas; th' basement iv th' boat to be papered in
green with yellow flowered dado, open plumbin', steam heat throughout,
th' tinant to pay f'r all repairs. Be means iv this infernal machine, if
enable to kill off th' rile fam'ly, he will attimpt to cross th' stormy
Atlantic, an' if successful, will arrive at th' risidince iv th' party
of th' first part, said John Doe. Wanst there, he will consult with
mimbers iv th' Noo York Bar Association, who will lead him to a firm iv
competent expert accountants, who will give him his time, which is two
minyits measured be th' invarse ratio iv th' distance fr'm th' binnacle
to th' cook-stove, an' fr'm th' cook-stove, east be north to th'
bowspirit. He will thin take his foolish boat down th' bay, an' if he
keeps his health, he can rayturn to th' grocery business, f'r he's a
jolly good fellow which nobody can deny.'
"Ye can see this, Hinnissy, that yachtin' has become wan iv thl larned
pro-fissions. 'Tis that that got th' la-ad fr'm Boston into it. They's a
jolly Jack Tar f'r ye. In dhrawin' up a lease or framin' a bond, no more
gallant sailor rides th' waves thin hearty Jack Larsen iv th'
Amalgamated Copper Yacht Club. 'What ho?' says he. 'If we're goin' to
have a race,' he says, 'shiver me timbers if I don't look up th' law,'
he says. So he become a yachtsman. 'But,' says th' Noo York la-ads, thim
that has th' Cup on their mantel-piece, 'Ye can race on'y on two
conditions.' 'What ar-re they?' says Larsen. 'Th' first is that ye
become a mimber iv our club.' 'With pleasure,' says he. 'Ye can't,' says
they. 'An' havin' complied with this first condition, ye must give us
ye'er boat,' says they. 'We don't want it,' they says. 'Th' terms suit
me entirely,' says Cap. Larsen. 'I'm a simple sailor man an' I'll give
ye me boat undher th' following conditions,' he says. 'First, that ye
won't take it; second, that ye'll paint me name on th' side iv it in red
letters, three feet high; third, that ye'll inthra-jooce me to th'
Prince iv Wales; foorth, that I'll sail it mesilf. Nawthin',' he says,
'wud give me gr-reater pleasure thin to have me handsome an' expinsive
raft in th' hands iv men who I wud considher it an honor to know,' he
says. 'An' so,' he says, 'I'll on'y ask ye to sign a bond an' lave a
small security, say about five hundherd thousan' dollars, in me hands in
case anny paint shud be knocked off me boat," he says. 'Yachtin' is a
gintleman's spoort,' he says, 'an' in dalin' with gintlemen,' he says,
'ye can't be too careful,' he says."
"What's Sir Lipton doin' all this time?" asked Mr. Hennessy.
"He's preparin' his bond, makin' his will, an' goin' through th' other
lagal preliminaries iv th' race. He's built a boat too. Th' King of
England was aboord iv her, an' he was near killed, be havin' a mast fall
on him. Th' Lord knows how he escaped. A mass iv steel weighin' a
hundherd thousan' ton fell on his Majesty an' bounced off. Sir Lipton
felt pretty bad about it. He didn't mind losin' a mast or two, but he
didn't want annywan to know he had th' king aboord. 'Twud hurt business.
'Boys,' says he to th' rayporthers, 'th' King's on me yacht. D'ye hear
me? Th' King's on me yacht. But don't say annything about it. I don't
want to have it known. Don't print it onless ye have to, an' thin put it
in an inconspicuous place, like th' first page. He's here sure enough,
boys. Th' mast just fell on his Majesty. It nearly kilt him. I'm not
sure it didn't kill him. He remained perfectly cool throughout. So did
I. I was almost cold. So did both iv us. But, mind not a wurrud iv this
in th' pa-apers.' I don't know how th' rayporthers got hold iv it. But
they're a pryin' lot."
"How did th' mast come to fall?" asked Mr. Hennessy, eagerly. "D'ye
suppose Sir Lipton is wan iv us?"
"S-sh," said Mr. Dooley, adding, softly, "he was bor-rn in Limerick."
"How manny wives has this here man Roberts that's thryin' to break into
Congress?" Mr. Dooley asked.
"I dinnaw," said Mr. Hennessy; "I nivver heerd iv him."
"I think it's three," said Mr. Dooley. "No wondher he needs wurruk an'
is fightin' hard f'r th' job. I'm with him too, be hivens. Not that I'm
be taste or inclination a marryin' man, Hinnissy. They may get me to th'
altar some day. Th' best iv us falls, like Cousin George, an' there ar-
re designin' women in this very block that I have me own throubles in
dodgin'. But anny time ye hear iv me bein' dhrawn fr'm th' quite
miseries an' exclusive discomforts iv single life ye may know that they
have caught me asleep an' chloroformed me. It's thrue. But f'r thim that
likes it, it's all r-right, an' if a man's done something in his youth
that he has to do pinance f'r an' th' stations iv th' cross ain't
sthrong enough, lave him, says I, marry as manny women as he wants an'
live with them an' die contint. Th' Mormons thinks they ar-re commanded
be the Lord f'r to marry all th' ineligeable Swede women. Now, I don't
believe th' Lord iver commanded even a Mormon f'r to do annything so
foolish, an' if he did he wudden't lave th' command written on a pie-
plate an' burrid out there at Nauvoo, in Hancock county, Illinye. Ye can
bet on that, Hinnissy."
"But if anny wan believes 'twas done, I say, lave him believe it an'
lave him clasp to his bosom as manny Olesons as 'll have him. Sure in
th' prisint state iv th' mathrimonyal market, as Hogan calls it, whin he
goes down to coort th' rich Widow O'Brien, th' la-ad that wants to
engage in interprises iv that sort ought to have a frind in ivry wan but
th' men that keeps imploymint agencies.
"But no. Th' minyit a Mormon thries to break into a pollytical job, a
dillygation rises an' says they: 'What!' they says, 'permit this
polluted monsther f'r to invade th' chaste atmosphere,' they says, 'iv
th' house iv riprisintatives,' they says. 'Permit him f'r to parade his
fam'ly down Pinnsylvanya Av'noo an' block thraffic,' they says. 'Permit
him mebbe to set in th' chair wanst occypied be th' laminted
Breckinridge,' they says. An' they proceed f'r to hunt th' poor, crowded
man. An' he takes a day off to kiss his wife fr'm house to house, an'
holds a meetin' iv his childher to bid thim good-by an' r-runs to hide
in a cave till th' dillygation raymimbers that they have husbands iv
their own an' goes home to cook th' supper.
"A Mormon, Hinnissy, is a man that has th' bad taste an' th' rellijion
to do what a good manny other men ar-re restrained fr'm doin' be
conscientious scruples an' th' polis. I don't want anny wife; ye,
Hinnissy, ar-re satisfied, not to say con-tint, with wan; another la-ad
feels that he'd be lonesome without tin. 'Tis a matther iv disposition.
If iver I got started th' Lord on'y knows where I'd bring up. I might be
like me frind an' fellow-sultan, Hadji Mohammed. Hadji has wives to
burn, an' wanst in awhile he bur-rns wan. He has a betther job thin
"Th' best a congressman can get is foorth-class postmasther an' a look
in at th' White House on visitin' day. But Hadji, th' pop'lar an'
iloquent sultan iv Sulu an' Bazeen iv th' Ohio iv th' Passyfic, owns his
own palace an' disthributes his own jobs. No man can hold th' office iv
bow-sthringer iv our impeeryal domain without a certy-ficate fr'm Hadji.
From th' highest office in th' land to th' lowest, fr'm th' chief
pizener to th' throne, to th' humblest ixicutioner that puts a lady in a
bag an' dumps her into th' lake in th' Nine Millionth Assimbly district
they look to Hadji Mohammed f'r their places. He is th' High Guy, th'
Main Thing. He's ivrybody. When he quits wurrk th' governmint is over
f'r th' day. An' does annywan thry to interfere with Hadji? Does annywan
say 'Hadji, ye'll have to abandon two or three hundherd iv ye 'er
firesides. Ye ar-re livin' jus' inside th' left field fince iv our
domain an' 'tis a rule iv th' game that we've taken ye into that no wan
shall have more thin wan wife at a time that annywan knows iv. In'
behalf iv th' comity iv th' Society f'r th' Supprission iv Poly-gamy, I
request ye to discard Nora an' Eileen an' Mary Ann an' Sue an' Bimbi an'
th' r-rest iv th' bunch, an' cleave on'y to Lucille. I judge be her
looks that she's th' first Missus Haitch.'
"No, sir. If he did he'd reach th' ship that runs between our outlying
wards without a hair to his head. Instead iv reproachin' Hadji with his
domestic habits, wan iv th' envoys that ar-re imployed in carryin'
messages fr'm th' prisidint to his fellow-citizens, proceeds to th'
pretty little American village iv Sulu, where he finds Hadji settin' up
on a high chair surrounded be wives. 'Tis a domestic scene that'd make
Brigham Young think he was a bachelor. Hadji is smokin' a good seegar
an' occasionally histin' a dhrink iv cider, an' wan iv th' ladies is
playin' a guitar, an' another is singin' 'I want ye my Sulu,' an'
another is makin' a tidy, an' three or four hundred more ar-re sewin'
patches on th' pants iv th' Hadji kids. An' th' ambassadure he says:
'Mos' rile an' luminous citizen, here is a copy iv th' Annual
Thanksgivin' pro-clamation,' he says. 'Tis addhressed to all th' hearty
husbandmen iv our belovid counthry, manin' you among others,' he says.
'An' here,' he says, 'is th' revised constitution,' he says. 'Th'
original wan,' he says, 'was intinded f'r ol' stick-in-th'-muds that
wudden't know th' difference between a harem an' a hoe,' he says. 'This
wan,' he says, 'is more suited f'r th' prisint gay an' expansive times,'
he says. 'It permits a man to cleave to as manny wives,' he says, 'as
his race, color, an' prevyous condition iv servitude will permit,' he
says. 'Thank ye kindly,' says Hadji, 'I'll threasure these here papers
as a vallyable meminto fr'm that far distant home iv mine which I have
niver see,' he says. 'I'd inthrojooce ye to Mrs. Hadji wan by wan,' he
says, 'but 'twud be betther,' he says, 'f'r to stand up here an' be
prisinted to her as a whole,' he says, 'f'r,' he says, ''tis growing
late an' I want ye to come up to th' house,' he says, 'an' pick a
mission'ry with me,' he says. 'A Baptist,' he says, 'raised on th'
farm,' he says. An' Hadji holds his job an' looks for'rard to th' day
whin we'll have female suffrage an' he can cast th' solid vote iv Sulu
for himsilf f'r prisident."
"Thin," said Mr. Hennessy, "ye'er frind Roberts ought to move to what-
"That's what I'm thinkin'," said Mr. Dooley. "But 'tis too bad f'r him
he was bor-rn at home."
Mr. Dooley put his paper aside and pushed his spectacles up on his
forehead. "Well," he said, "I suppose, afther all, we're th' mos'
lively nation in th' wurruld. It doesn't seem many months ago since ye,
Hinnissy, was down at th' depot cheerin' th' departin' heroes----"
"I niver was," said Mr. Hennessey. "I stayed at home."
"Since ye was down cheerin' th' departin' heroes," Mr. Dooley continued,
"an' thryin' to collect what they owed ye. Th' papers was full iv news
iv th' war. Private Jawn Thomas Bozoom iv Woonsocket, a mimber iv th'
gallant an' devoted Wan Hundhred an' Eighth Rhode Island, accidentally
slipped on a orange peel while attimptin' to lave th' recruitin' office
an' sustained manny con-tu-sions. He rayfused to be taken home an'
insisted on jinin' his rig'mint at th' rayciption in th' fair groun's.
Gallant Private Bozoom! That's th' stuff that American heroes ar-re made
iv. Ye find thim at th' forge an' at th' plough, an' dhrivin' sthreet
cars, an' ridin' in th' same. The favored few has th' chanst to face th'
bullets iv th'inimy. 'Tis f'r these unknown pathrites to prove that a
man can sarve his counthry at home as well as abroad. Private Bozoom
will not be f'rgot be his fellow-counthrymen. A rayciption has been
arranged f'r him at th' Woonsocket op'ry-house, an' 'tis said if he will
accipt it, th' vote iv th' State iv Rhode Island'll be cast f'r him f'r
prisidint. 'Tis at such times as this that we reflict that th' wurruld
has wurruk f'r men to do, an' mere politicians mus' retire to th' rear."
"That was a few months ago. Where's Bozoom now? If iver ye go to
Woonsocket, Hinnissy, which Gawd f'rbid, ye'll find him behind th'
counther iv th' grocery store ladlin' out rutabaga turnips into a brown
paper cornucopy an' glad to be alive. An' 'tis tin to wan, an' more thin
that, that th' town humorist has named him th' orange-peel hero, an'
he'll go to his grave with that name. Th' war is over an' th' state iv
war exists. If ye saw a man fall fr'm th' top iv a tin-story buildin'
'twud startle ye, wanst. If it happened again, 'twud surprise ye. But if
ye saw a man fall ivry fifteen minyits ye'd go home afther awhile f'r
supper an' ye wuddent even mintion it to ye'er wife."
"I don't know how manny heroes they ar-re in th' Philippeens. Down there
a man is ayether a sojer or a casualty. Bein' a casualty is no good. I
cud say about a man: 'He was a hero in th' war with Spain,' but how can
I say: 'Shake hands with Bill Grady, wan iv th' ladin' casualties iv our
late war?' 'Twud be no more thin to say he was wan iv th' gallant men
that voted f'r prisidint in 1896.'"
"No, Hinnissy, people wants novelties in war. Th' war fashions iv 1898
is out iv style. They ar-re too full in th' waist an' too long in th'
skirt. Th' style has changed. There ar-re fifty thousand backward men in
th' fair isles iv th' Passyfic fightin' to free th' Philippeen fr'm
himsilf an' becomin' a casualty in th' operation, but no one is
charterin' ar-rmy hospital ships f'r thim."
"No one is convartin' anny steam yachts f'r thim. No wan is sindin'
eighty tons iv plum puddin' to complete th' wurruk iv destruction.
They ar-re in a war that'd make th' British throops in Africa think
they were drillin' f'r a prize banner. But'tis an onfashionable war.'
'Tis an ol' war made over fr'm garments formerly worn be heroes. Whin
a man is out in th' counthry with wan newspaper an' has read th'
authentic dispatches fr'm Ladysmith an' Harrismith an' Willumaldensmith
an' Mysteriousbillysmith an' the meetin' iv th' czar iv Rooshia with th'
Impror Willum an' th' fire in th' packin' house an' th' report iv th'
canal thrustees an' th' fightin' news an' th' want ads, an' afther he
has r-read thim over twinty times he looks at his watch an' says he,
'Holy smoke, 'tis two hours to thrain time an' I suppose I'll have to r-
read th' news fr'm th' Philippeens.' War, be hivins, is so common that I
believe if we was to take on a fight with all th' wurruld not more thin
half th' popylation iv New England'd die iv hear-rt disease befure they
got into th' cellars."
"Th' new style iv war is made in London an' all our set is simply stuck
on it. Th' casualties in th' Philippeens can walk home, but is it
possible that many thrue an' well-dhressed American can stand to see th'
signs iv th' ancient British aristocracy taken care iv be their own
gover'mint? 'What,' says Lady what's-her-name (her that was th' daughter
iv wan iv our bravest an' best racontoors). 'What.' she says, 'will anny
American woman residin' in London see men shot down,' she says, 'that
has but recently played polo in our very sight,' she says, 'an' be
brought home in mere thransports,' she says. 'Ladies,' she says, 'lave
us equip a hospital ship,' she says. 'I thrust,' she says, 'that all iv
us has been long enough fr'm home to f'rget our despicable domestic
struggles,' she says, 'an' think on'y iv humanity,' she says. An' whin
she opens up th' shop f'r subscriptions ye'd think fr'm th' crowd that
'twas th' first night iv th' horse show. I don't know what Lem Stiggins
iv Kansas, marked down in th' roll, Private in th' Twintieth Kansas,
Severely, I don't know what Private Severely thinks iv it. An' I wuddent
like to know till afther Thanks-givin'."
"Don't be blatherin'," said Mr. Hennessy. "Sure ye can't ixpict people
to be inthrested f'river in a first performance."
"No," said Mr. Dooley, "but whin th' audjeence gives th' comp'ny an
encore it ought at laste to pretind that it's not lavin' f'r th' other
"If th' Presidint doesn't step in an' interfere," said Mr. Hennessy,
"they'll be bloodshed in Kentucky."
"What business is it iv Mack's?" Mr. Dooley protested. "Th' war's in
this counthry, man alive! If 'twas in Boolgahria or Chiny or on th' head
waters iv th' Bozoon river in th' sooltynate iv--iv--I dinnaw what--
thin'twud be th' jooty iv our gover'mint f'r to resolve that th'
inthrests iv humanity an' civilization an' th' advancement iv th' human
kind required that we shud step in an' put a head on wan or both iv th'
parties. But they'se no reason now, me boy, f'r us to do annything, f'r
these are our own people, an' 'tis wan iv their rights, undher th'
martial law that's th' foundation iv our institutions, to bate each
other to death whiniver an' whereiver they plaze. 'Twud be all r-right
f'r the Impror Willum to come in an' take a hand, but Gawd help him if
he did, or th' Prsidint iv th' Fr-rinch or th' Impror iv Chiny. 'Twud be
all r-right f'r thim. An' though we might meet thim at th' dure an' hand
thim wan f'r their impydince, we'd be in th' wrong. Twud be a good job
f'r Aggynaldoo, too, if he cud find himsilf an' had th' time It must be
clear to him be what news he hears whin th' other pigrim father, Sinitor
Hoar, calls on him in th' three where he makes his home, that what
Kentucky needs now is wan an' on'y wan stable govermint an' a little
public peace. He might restore peace at home an' abroad be cuttin' in,
but th' poor la-ad has other things to think iv. I'd like to see him. It
must be near a year since he had a shave or a hair cut, barrin' ridges
made be bullets as he cleared th' fences."
"It looks to me as though th' raypublican is wr-rong," said Mr.
Hennessy, with the judicial manner of a man without prejudices.
"Iv coorse he's wrong," said Mr. Dooley. "He starts wrong. An' th'
dimmycrats ar-re r-right. They're always r-right. Tis their position.
Th' dimmycrats ar-re right an' the raypublicans has th' jobs. It all
come up because our vinerated party, Hinnissy, ain't quick at th' count.
Man an' boy I've taken an intherest in politics all me life, an' I find
th' on'y way to win an iliction is to begin f'r to count th' minyit
ye've completed th' preliminaries iv closin' th' polls an' killin' th'
other judges an' clerks.
"Th' dimmycrats counted, but th' count come too late. Be th' time th'
apparent an' hidjous majority iv th' raypublicans was rayjooced to
nawthin' an' a good liberal, substantial, legal an' riotous dimmycratic
majority put in its place be ordher iv th' coorts, th' commonwealth iv
Kentucky an' Jack Chinn, th' raypublican has been so long in th'job an'
has become so wedded to it that ye cuddent shake him out with a can iv
joynt powdher. It seems to him that there niver was a time whin he
"Th' dimmycrats get together an' call on that learned an' incorruptible
joodishary that's done so much to ilivate the party into high office,
an' whin th' dure iv th' saloon is locked they say 'Bill,' they say,
'we're bein' robbed iv our suffrage,' says they. 'Th' hated enimy has
stolen th' ballot an' thrampled on th' r-rights iv th' citizens,' says
they, 'in the southern part iv th' state faster thin we cud undo their
hellish wurruk in our own counties,' they says. 'They now hol' th'
jobs,' they say, 'an' if they stay in they'se no more chanst iv iver
ilictin' a dimmycrat again thin there wud be iv ilictin' a raypublican
if we got in,' they say. 'Do ye mix us up a replevy writ an' we'll go
over an' haul th' chair fr'm undher thim,' they say."
"So th' judge passes out a replevy writ be vartue iv th' thrust that's
been reposed in him be th' comity and gives it to Colonel Jack Chinn,
wan iv th' leaders iv th' Kentucky bar, f'r to serve. An' Colonel Jack
Chinn ar-rms himsilf as becomes a riprisintative iv a gr-reat coort
goin' to sarve a sacred writ iv replevy on th' usurper to th' loftiest
or wan iv th' loftiest jobs that th' people iv a gloryous state can
donate to a citizen. He sthraps on three gatlin' guns, four revolvers,
two swords, a rifle, a shot gun, a baseball bat, a hand grenade (to be
used on'y in case iv thirst), a pair iv handcuffs, brass knuckles, a
sandbag, a piece of lead pipe in a stockin', a rabbit's foot f'r luck, a
stove lid an' a can iv dinnymite, an' with siveral iv his cillybrated
knives behind his ears, in his hair, between his teeth, an' gleamin'
fr'm his pockets, he sallies forth on his sacred mission, an' gives th'
writ to a clerk to sarve, an' stays in town himsilf, where he
successfully resists all charges iv th' bartinder. Th' clerk goes up to
th' state house, where th' gov'nor is ixicutin' th' high thrust reposed
in him be himsilf, behind breastworks an' guarded be some iv th' most
desp'rate an' pathriotic ruffyans in th' state. 'What have ye there?'
says his ixcillincy, with his hand on th' sthring iv a dinnymite gun. 'A
writ fr'm th' coort bouncin' ye fr'm ye'er high office,' says th' clerk.
'As a law abidin' citizen,' says his ixcillincy, 'an' an official
enthrusted be th' people iv this glad state with th' exicution iv th'