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Mr. Dooley's Philosophy by Finley Peter Dunne

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statutes I bow to th' law,' he says. 'But,' he says, 'I'll be hanged if
I'll bow to th' decree iv anny low browed pussillanimous dimmycratic
coort,' he says, 'Sojers,' he says, 'seize this disturber iv th' peace
an' stick him in th' cellar. Jawn,' he says, 'ar-rm ye'ersilf an'
proceed to th' raypublican timple iv justice in Hogan's saloon an' have
th' stanch an' upright Judge Blood prepare some good honest writs iv th'
party iv Lincoln an' Grant,' he says. 'In th' manetime, as th'
constitootion has lost its sights an' the cylinder don't revolve,' he
says, 'I suspind it an' proclaim martial law,' he says. 'I want a law,'
he says, 'that mesilf an' all other good citizens can rayspict,' he
says. 'I want wan,' he says, 'that's been made undher me own personal
supervision,' he says. 'Hand-made, copper distilled, wan hun-dherd an'
tin proof martial law ought to be good enough for anny Kentuckyan,' he
says. So th' next ye hear th' sojers ar-re chasin' th' coorts out iv th'
state, th' legislature is meetin' in Duluth, Pinsacola, an' Bangor,
Maine, an' a comity iv citizens consistin' iv some iv the best gun
fighters iv th' state ar-re meetin' to decide how th' conthroversay can
be decided without loss iv blood or jobs. While they're in session th'
gov'nor is in contimpt iv coort, the coorts ar-re in contimpt iv th'
gov'nor, an' if annybody but Tiddy Rosenfclt has anny other feelin' f'r
ayether iv thim I haven't heerd him speak."

"They ought to fire out the raypublican," said Mr. Hennessy. "Sure 'tis
comin' to a nice state iv affairs whin th' likes iv him can defy the

"Thrue f'r ye," said Mr. Dooley. "But I don't like th' looks iv it fr'm
our side iv th' house. Whiniver a dimmycrat has to go to coort to win an
iliction I get suspicious. They'se something wr-rong in Kentucky,
Hinnissy. We were too slow. Th' inimy got th' first cheat."


"They'se wan thing that this counthry ought to be thankful f'r," said
Mr. Dooley, laying down his paper, "an' that is that we still have a lot
iv young an' growin' orators f'r to lead us on."

"Who's been oratin' now?" Mr. Hennessy asked.

"Me young frind Sinitor Beveridge, th' child orator iv Fall Creek. This
engagin' an' hopeful la-ad first made an impression with his eloquince
at th' age iv wan whin he addhressed a meetin' iv th' Tippecanoe club on
th' issues iv th' day. At th' age iv eight he was illicted to th' United
States Sinit, rayjoocin' th' average age iv that body to ninety-three
years. In th' sinit, bein' a modest child, he rayfused to speak f'r five
minyits, but was fin'lly injooced f'r to make a few thousan' remarks on
wan iv th' subjects now much discussed by orators whin th' dures ar-re
closed an' th' fire escapes broken."

"His subject was th' Ph'lippeens, an' he said he'd just come fr'm there.
'I have cruised,' he says, 'f 'r two thousan' miles through th' Ar-rchey
Pelago--that's a funny name--ivry minyit a surprise an' delight to those
that see me,' he says. 'I see corn growin' on banana threes; I see th'
gloryous heights iv Ding Dong that ar-re irradyatin'. civilization like
quills upon th' fretful porcypine,' he says. 'I see rice, coffee, rolls,
cocoanuts, choice seegars, oats, hay, hard and soft coal, an' Gen'ral
Otis--an' there's a man that I rayspict,' he says. 'I see flowers
bloomin' that was superyor to anny conservatory in Poolasky county,' he
says. 'I see th' low and vicious inhabitants iv th' counthry soon, I
thrust, to be me fellow-citizens, an' as I set there an' watched th' sea
rollin' up its uncounted millyons iv feet iv blue wather, an' th' stars
sparklin' like lamp-posts we pass in th' night, as I see th' mountains
raisin' their snow-capped heads f'r to salute th' sun, while their feet
extinded almost to th' place where I shtud; whin I see all th' glories
iv that almost, I may say, thropical clime, an' thought what a good
place this wud be f'r to ship base-burnin' parlor stoves, an' men's
shirtings to th' accursed natives iv neighborin' Chiny, I says to
mesilf, 'This is no mere man's wurruk. A Higher Power even than Mack,
much as I rayspict him, is in this here job. We cannot pause, we cannot
hesitate, we cannot delay, we cannot even stop! We must, in other
wurruds, go on with a holy purpose in our hearts, th' flag over our
heads an' th' inspired wurruds iv A. Jeremiah Beveridge in our ears,' he
says. An' he set down."

"Well, sir,'twas a gr-reat speech. 'Twas a speech ye cud waltz to. Even
younger men thin Sinitor Beveridge had niver made grander orations. Th'
throuble is th' sinit is too common f'r such magnificent sintimints; its
too common and its too old. Th' young la-ad comes fr'm home, where's
he's paralyzed th' Lithry Society an' th' Debatin' Club, an' he loads
himsilf up with a speech an' he says to himsilf: 'Whin I begin peggin'
ar-round a few iv these vilets I'll make Ol' Hoar look like confederate
money,' an' th' pa-apers tell that th' Infant Demostheens iv Barry's
Junction is about f'r to revive th oratorical thraditions iv th' sinit
an' th' fire department comes up f'r a week, an' wets down th' capitol
buildin'. Th' speech comes off, they ain't a dhry eye in th' House, an'
th' pa-apers say: 'Where's ye'er Dan'l Webster an' ye'er Champ Clark,
now?' An' th' young man goes away an' has his pitchers took on a
kinetoscope. He has a nice time while it lasts, Hinnissy, but it don't
las' long. It don't las' long. Th' la-ad has th' wind, but it's
endurance that counts."

"Th' wise ol' boys with their long whiskers discusses him over th'
sivin-up game, an' says wan iv thim: 'What ye think iv th' kid's
speech?' ''Twas a good speech,' says th' other. 'It carries me back to
me own boyhood days. I made a speech just like that durin' th' Mexican
War. Oh, thim days, thim days! I lead th' ace, Mike.' An' afther awhile
th' Boy Demostheens larns that while he's polishin' off his ipigrams,
an' ol' guy, that spinds all his time sleepin' on a bench, is polishin'
him off. Th' man that sinds seeds to his constitooents lasts longer thin
th' wan that sinds thim flowers iv iloquence, an' though th' hand iv
Gawd may be in th' Ph'lippeen question, it hasn't interfered up to date
in th' sergeant-at-arms question. An' whin th' young man sees this he
says, 'sky,' whin he means 'sky' an' not 'th' jooled canopy iv hiven,'
an' he says, 'Ph'lippeens,' an' not 'th' gloryous isles iv th'
Passyfic,' an' bein' onto th' character iv his fellow-sinitors, he
mintions nobody higher in their prisence thin th' steward iv th'
capitol. An' he niver makes a speech but whin he wants to smoke, an'
thin he moves that th' sinit go into executive session. Thin he's a rale
sinitor. I've seen it manny's th' time--th' boy orator goin' into th'
sinit, an' comin' out a deef mute. I've seen a man that made speeches
that was set to music an' played be a silver cornet band in Ioway that
hadn't been in Congress f'r a month befure he wudden't speak above a
whisper or more thin an inch fr'm ye'er ear."

"Do ye think Hiven sint us to th' Ph'lippeens?" Mr. Hennessy asked.

"I don't know," said Mr. Dooley, "th' divvle take thim."


"This man Dewey--," began Mr. Dooley.

"I thought he was ye'er cousin George," Mr. Hennessy interrupted.

"I thought he was," said Mr. Dooley, "but on lookin' closer at his
features an' r-readin' what th' pa-apers says about him, I am convinced
that I was wrong. Oh, he may be a sicond cousin iv me Aunt Judy. I'll
not say he ain't. There was a poor lot, all iv them. But I have no close
rilitives in this counthry. 'Tis a way I have of savin' a little money.
I'm like th' good an' gr-rateful American people. Th' further ye stay
away fr'm thim th' more they like ye. Sicond-cousin-iv-me Aunt-Judy-
George made a mistake comin' home, or if he did come home he ought've
invistigated his welcome and see that it wasn't mined. A man cud stand
up all day an' lave Packy Mountjoy whale away at him, but th' affiction
iv th' American people is always aimed thrue an' is invaryably fatal."

"Th' la-ad Dougherty was in to-day, an' he exprissed th' feelin's iv
this grateful raypublic. He says, says he, 'This fellow Dewey ain't what
I thought he was,' he says. 'I thought he was a good, broad, lib'ral
man, an' it turns out he's a cheap skate,' he says. 'We made too much
fuss over him,' he says. 'To think,' he says, 'iv him takin' th' house
we give him an' tur-rnin' it over to his wife,' he says. ''Tis
scand'lous,' he says. 'How much did ye con-thribute?' says I. 'I didn't
give annything,' he says 'The collector didn't come around, an' I'm glad
now I hung on to me coin,' he says. 'Well,' says I, 'I apprechate ye'er
feelin's,' I says. 'Ye agree with th' other subscribers,' I says. 'But
I've med up me mind not to lave annywan talk to me about Dewey,' I says,
'unless,' I says, 'he subscribed th' maximum amount iv th'
subscription,' I says, 'thirty-eight cints,' I says. 'So I'll thank ye
to tip-toe out,' I says, 'befure I give ye a correct imitation iv Dewey
an' Mountjoy at th' battle of Manila,' I says. An' he wint away."

"Th' throuble with Dewey is he was so long away he lost his
undherstanding iv th' thrue feelin' iv th' American people. George r-
read th' newspapers, an' he says to himself: 'Be hivins, they think well
iv what I done. I guess I'll put a shirt in me thrunk an' go home, f'r
'tis hot out here, an' ivrybody'll be glad f'r to see me,' he says. An'
he come along, an' New York was r-ready f'r him. Th' business in
neckties had been poor that summer, an' they was necessity f'r pullin'
it together, an' they give George a welcome an' invited his admirers
fr'm th' counthry to come in an' buy something f'r th' little wans at
home. An' he r-rode up Fifth Avnoo between smilin' rows iv hotels an'
dhrug stores, an' tin-dollar boxes an' fifty-cint seats an' he says to
himsilf: 'Holy smoke, if Aggynaldoo cud on'y see me now.' An' he was
proud an' happy, an' he says: 'Raypublics ar-re not always ongrateful.'
An' they ain't. On'y whin they give ye much gratichood ye want to freeze
some iv it, or it won't keep."

"'Tis unsafe f'r anny man alive to receive th' kind wurruds that ought
to be said on'y iv th' dead. As long as George was a lithograph iv
himsilf in a saloon window he was all r-right. Whin people saw he cud
set in a city hall hack without flowers growin' in it an' they cud look
at him without smoked glasses they begin to weaken in their devotion.
'Twud've been th' same, almost, if he'd married a Presbyteeryan an'
hadn't deeded his house to his wife. 'Dewey don't look much like a
hero,' says wan man. 'I shud say not,' says another. 'He looks like
annybody else.' 'He ain't a hero,' says another. 'Why, annybody cud've
done what he did. I got an eight-year-old boy, an' if he cudden't take a
baseball club an' go in an' bate that Spanish fleet into junk in twinty
minyits I'd call him Alger an' thrade him off f'r a bicycle,' he says.
'I guess that's r-right. They say he was a purty tough man befure he
left Wash'n'ton.' 'Sure he was. Why, so-an'-so-an'-so-an'-so.' 'Ye don't
tell me!' 'Is there annything in that story about his beatin' his poor
ol' aunt an' her iliven childher out iv four dollars?' 'I guess that's
straight. Ye can tell be th' looks iv him he's a mean man. I niver see a
man with squintin' eyes an' white hair that wudden't rob a church!'
'He's a cow'rd, too. Why, he r-run away at th' battle iv Manila.
Ivrybody knows it. I r-read what Joe What's-His-Name wrote--th' br-rave
corryspondint. He says this feller was sick at his stummick an' retired
befure th' Spanish fire. Why, what'd he have to fight but a lot iv ol'
row-boats? A good swimmer with sharp teeth cud've bit his way through
th' whole Spanish fleet. An' he r-run away. I tell ye, it makes me tired
to think iv th' way we abused th' Spanyards not long ago. Why, say, they
done a lot betther thin this fellow Dewey, with his forty or fifty men-
iv-war an' this gran' nation, miles away, standin' shoulder to shoulder
at his back. They niver tur-rned over their property to their wives.'
'Yes,' says wan man, 'Dewey was a cow'rd. Let's go an' stone his house.'
'No,' says the crowd, 'he might come out. Let's go down to th' v'riety
show an' hiss his pitcher in th' kinetoscope.' Well!'"

"Well what?" demanded Mr. Hennessy.

"Well," Mr. Dooley continued, "I was on'y goin' to say, Hinnissy, that
in spite iv me hathred iv George as a man--a marrid man--an' me contimpt
f'r his qualities as a fighter, in spite iv th' chickens he has stole
an' the notes he has forged an' th' homes he has rooned, if he was to
come r-runnin' up Archey road, as he might, pursooed be ladies an'
gintlemen an' th' palajeem iv our liberties peltin him with rotten eggs
an' ol' cats, I'd open th' dure f'r him, an' whin he come in I'd put me
fut behind it an' I'd say to th' grateful people: 'Fellow-citizens,' I'd
say, 'lave us,' I'd say. 'They'se another hero down in Halstead Sthreet
that's been marrid. Go down an' shivaree him. An' you, me thrusted
collagues iv th' press, disperse to ye'er homes,' I'd say. 'Th' keyholes
is closed f'r th' night, I'd say. An' thin I'd bolt th' dure an' I'd
say, 'George, take off ye'er coat an' pull up to th' fire. Here's a
noggin' iv whisky near ye'er thumb an' a good seegar f'r ye to smoke.
I'm no hero-worshiper. I'm too old. But I know a man whin I see wan, an'
though we cudden't come out an' help ye whin th' subscription list wint
wild, be sure we think as much iv ye as we did whin ye'er name was first
mintioned be th' stanch an' faithful press. Set here, ol' la-ad, an'
warrum ye'er toes by th' fire. Set here an' r-rest fr'm th' gratichood
iv ye'er fellow-counthrymen, that, as Shakspere says, biteth like an asp
an' stingeth like an adder. R-rest here, as ye might r-rest at th'
hearth iv millyons iv people that cud give ye no house but their own!"

"I dinnaw about that," said Mr. Hennessy. "I like Dewey, but I think he
oughtn't to've give away th' gift iv th' nation."

"Well," said Mr. Dooley, "if 'twas a crime f'r an American citizen to
have his property in his wife's name they'd be close quarthers in th'


"I see," said Mr. Hennessy, "that wan iv thim New York joods says a man
in pollytics oughtn't to be marrid."

"Oh, does he?" said Mr. Dooley.

"Well, 'tis little he knows about it. A man in pollytics has got to be
marrid. If he ain't marrid where'll he go f'r another kind iv throuble?
An' where'll he find people to support? An unmarrid man don't get along
in pollytics because he don't need th' money. Whin he's in th' middle iv
a prim'ry, with maybe twinty or thirty iv th' opposite party on top iv
him, thinks he to himsilf: 'What's th' good iv fightin' f'r a job?
They'se no wan depindant on me f'r support,' an' he surrinders. But a
marrid man says: 'What'll happen to me wife an' twelve small childher if
I don't win out here today?' an' he bites his way to th' top iv th' pile
an' breaks open th' ballot box f'r home and fireside. That's th' thruth
iv it, Hinnissy. Ye'll find all th' big jobs held be marrid men an' all
th' timpry clerkships be bachelors."

"Th' reason th' New York jood thinks marrid men oughtn't to be in
pollytics is because he thinks pollytics is spoort. An' so it is. But it
ain't amachoor spoort, Hinnissy. They don't give ye a pewter mug with
ye'er name on it f'r takin' a chanst on bein' kilt. 'Tis a profissional
spoort, like playin' base-ball f'r a livin' or wheelin' a thruck. Ye
niver see an amachoor at annything that was as good as a profissional.
Th' best amachoor ball team is beat be a bad profissional team; a
profissional boxer that thrains on bock beer an' Swiss cheese can lam
the head off a goold medal amachoor champeen that's been atin' moldy
bread an' dhrinkin' wather f'r six months, an' th' Dago that blows th'
cornet on th' sthreet f'r what annywan 'll throw him can cut the figure
eight around Dinnis Finn, that's been takin' lessons f'r twinty year.
No, sir, pollytics ain't dhroppin' into tea, an' it ain't wurrukin' a
scroll saw, or makin' a garden in a back yard. 'Tis gettin' up at six
o'clock in th' mornin' an' r-rushin' off to wurruk, an' comin' home at
night tired an' dusty. Double wages f'r overtime an' Sundahs."

"So a man's got to be marrid to do it well. He's got to have a wife at
home to make him oncomfortable if he comes in dhrunk, he's got to have
little prattlin' childher that he can't sind to th' Young Ladies'
academy onless he stuffs a ballotbox properly, an' he's got to have a
sthrong desire f'r to live in th' av'noo an' be seen dhrivin' downtown
in an open carredge with his wife settin' beside him undher a r-red
parasol. If he hasn't these things he won't succeed in pollytics--or
packin' pork. Ye niver see a big man in pollytics that dhrank hard, did
ye? Ye never will. An' that's because they're all marrid. Th'
timptation's sthrong, but fear is sthronger."

"Th' most domestic men in th' wurruld ar-re politicians, an' they always
marry early. An' that's th' sad part iv it, Hinnissy. A pollytician
always marries above his own station. That's wan sign that he'll be a
successful pollytician. Th' throuble is, th' good woman stays planted
just where she was, an' he goes by like a fast thrain by a whistlin'
station. D'ye mind O'Leary, him that's a retired capitalist now, him
that was aldherman, an' dhrainage thrustee, an' state sinitor f'r wan
term? Well, whin I first knew O'Leary he wurruked down on a railroad
section tampin' th' thrack at wan-fifty a day. He was a sthrong, willin'
young fellow, with a stiff right-hand punch an' a schamin' brain, an'
anny wan cud see that he was intinded to go to th' fr-ront. Th'
aristocracy iv th' camp was Mrs. Cassidy, th' widdy lady that kept th'
boordin'-house. Aristocracy, Hinnissy, is like rale estate, a matther iv
location. I'm aristocracy to th' poor O'Briens back in th' alley, th'
brewery agent's aristocracy to me, his boss is aristocracy to him, an'
so it goes, up to the czar of Rooshia. He's th' pick iv th' bunch, th'
high man iv all, th' Pope not goin' in society. Well, Mrs. Cassidy was
aristocracy to O'Leary. He niver see such a stylish woman as she was
whin she turned out iv a Sundah afthernoon in her horse an' buggy. He'd
think to himsilf, 'If I iver can win that I'm settled f'r life,' an' iv
coorse he did. 'Twas a gran' weddin'; manny iv th' guests didn't show up
at wurruk f'r weeks."

"O'Leary done well, an' she was a good wife to him. She made money an'
kept him sthraight an' started him for constable. He won out, bein' a
sthrong man. Thin she got him to r-run f'r aldher-man, an' ye shud've
seen her th' night he was inaugurated! Be hivins, Hinnissy, she looked
like a fire in a pawnshop, fair covered with dimons an' goold watches
an' chains. She was cut out to be an aldherman's wife, and it was worth
goin' miles to watch her leadin' th' gran' march at th' Ar-rchy Road
Dimmycratic Fife an' Dhrum Corps ball."

"But there she stopped. A good woman an' a kind wan, she cudden't go th'
distance. She had th' house an' th' childher to care f'r an' her eddy-
cation was through with. They isn't much a woman can learn afther she
begins to raise a fam'ly. But with O'Leary 'twas diffrent. I say 'twas
diff'rent with O'Leary. Ye talk about ye'er colleges, Hinnissy, but
pollytics is th' poor man's college. A la-ad without enough book larnin'
to r-read a meal-ticket, if ye give him tin years iv polly-tical life,
has th' air iv a statesman an' th' manner iv a jook, an' cud take anny
job fr'm dalin' faro bank to r-runnin th' threasury iv th' United
States. His business brings him up again' th' best men iv th' com-
munity, an' their customs an' ways iv speakin' an' thinkin' an robbin'
sticks to him. Th' good woman is at home all day. Th' on'y people she
sees is th' childher an' th' neighbors. While th' good man in a swallow-
tail coat is addhressin' th' Commercial club on what we shud do f'r to
reform pollytics, she's discussin' th' price iv groceries with th'
plumber's wife an' talkin' over th' back fince to the milkman. Thin
O'Leary moves up on th' boolyvard. He knows he'll get along all r-right
on th' boolyvard. Th' men'll say: 'They'se a good deal of rugged common
sinse in that O'Leary. He may be a robber, but they's mighty little that
escapes him.' But no wan speaks to Mrs. O'Leary. No wan asts her opinion
about our foreign policy. She sets day in an' day out behind th' dhrawn
curtains iv her three-story brownstone risidence prayin' that somewan'll
come in an' see her, an if annywan comes she's frozen with fear. An'
'tis on'y whin she slips out to Ar-rchey r-road an' finds th' plumber's
wife, an' sets in th' kitchen over a cup iv tay, that peace comes to
her. By an' by they offer O'Leary th' nommynation f'r congress. He knows
he's fit for it. He's sthronger thin th' young lawyer they have now.
People'll listen to him in Wash'nton as they do in Chicago. He says:
'I'll take it.' An' thin he thinks iv th' wife an' they's no Wash'nton
f'r him. His pollytical career is over. He wud niver have been constable
if he hadn't marrid, but he might have been sinitor if he was a

"Mrs. O'Leary was in to see th' Dargans th' other day. 'Ye mus' be very
happy in ye'er gran' house, with Mr. O'Leary doin' so well,' says Mrs.
Dargan. An' th' on'y answer th' foolish woman give was to break down an'
weep on Mrs. Dargan's neck."

"Yet ye say a pollytician oughtn't to get marrid," said Mr. Hennessy.

"Up to a certain point," said Mr. Dooley, "he must be marrid. Afther
that--well, I on'y say that, though pollytics is a gran' career f'r a
man, 'tis a tough wan f'r his wife."


"If a man come into this saloon--" Mr. Hennessy was saying.

"This ain't no saloon," Mr. Dooley interrupted. "This is a resthrant."

"A what?" Mr. Hennessy exclaimed.

"A resthrant," said Mr. Dooley. "Ye don't know, Hinnissy, that liquor is
food. It is though. Food--an' dhrink. That's what a doctor says in the
pa-apers, an' another doctor wants th' gover'mint to sind tubs iv th'
stuff down to th' Ph'lipeens. He says 'tis almost issintial that people
shud dhrink in thim hot climates. Th' prespiration don't dhry on thim
afther a hard pursoot iv Aggynaldoo an' th' capture iv Gin'ral
Pantaloons de Garshy; they begin to think iv home an' mother sindin'
down th' lawn-sprinkler to be filled with bock, an' they go off
somewhere, an' not bein' able to dhry thimsilves with dhrink, they want
to die. Th' disease is called nostalgia or home-sickness, or thirst."

"'What we want to do f'r our sojer boys in th' Ph'lipeens besides
killin' thim,' says th' ar-rmy surgeon, 'is make th' place more
homelike,' he says. 'Manny iv our heroes hasn't had th' deleeryum
thremens since we first planted th' stars an' sthripes,' he says, 'an'
th' bay'nits among th' people,' he says. 'I wud be in favor iv havin'
th' rigimints get their feet round wanst a week, at laste,' he says.
'Lave us,' he says, 'reform th' reg'lations,' he says, 'an' insthruct
our sojers to keep their powdher dhry an' their whistles wet,' he says."

"Th' idee ought to take, Hinnissy, f'r th' other doctor la-ad has
discovered that liquor is food. 'A man,' says he, 'can live f'r months
on a little booze taken fr'm time to time,' he says 'They'se a gr-reat
dale iv nourishment in it,' he says. An' I believe him, f'r manny's th'
man I know that don't think iv eatin' whin he can get a dhrink. I
wondher if the time will iver come whin ye'll see a man sneakin' out iv
th' fam'ly enthrance iv a lunch-room hurridly bitin' a clove! People may
get so they'll carry a light dinner iv a pint iv rye down to their
wurruk, an' a man'll tell ye he niver takes more thin a bottle iv beer
f'r breakfast. Th' cook'll give way to th' bartinder and th' doctor 'll
ordher people f'r to ate on'y at meals. Ye'll r-read in th' pa-apers
that 'Anton Boozinski, while crazed with ham an' eggs thried to kill his
wife an' childher.' On Pathrick's day ye'll see th' Dr. Tanner Anti-Food
Fife an' Drum corpse out at th' head iv th' procession instead iv th'
Father Macchews, an' they'll be places where a man can be took whin he
gets th' monkeys fr'm immodhrate eatin'. Th' sojers 'll complain that
th' liquor was unfit to dhrink an' they'll be inquiries to find out who
sold embammin' flood to th' ar-rmy--Poor people 'll have simple meals--
p'raps a bucket iv beer an' a little crame de mint, an' ye'll r-read in
th' pa-apers about a family found starvin' on th' North side, with
nawthin' to sustain life but wan small bottle iv gin, while th' head iv
th' family, a man well known to the polis, spinds his wages in a low
doggery or bakeshop fuddlin' his brains with custars pie. Th' r-rich 'll
inthrajoose novelties. P'raps they'll top off a fine dinner with a
little hasheesh or proosic acid. Th' time'll come whin ye'll see me in a
white cap fryin' a cocktail over a cooksthove, while a nigger hollers to
me: 'Dhraw a stack iv Scotch,' an' I holler back: 'On th' fire.' Ye will


"That's what I thought," said Mr. Hennessy.

"No," said Mr. Dooley. "Whisky wudden't be so much iv a luxury if'twas
more iv a necissity. I don't believe 'tis a food, though whin me frind
Schwartzmeister makes a cocktail all it needs is a few noodles to look
like a biled dinner. No, whisky ain't food. I think betther iv it thin
that. I wudden't insult it be placin' it on th' same low plane as a
lobster salad. Father Kelly puts it r-right, and years go by without him
lookin' on it even at Hallowe'en. 'Whisky,' says he, 'is called the
divvle, because,' he says, ''tis wan iv the fallen angels,' he says. 'It
has its place,' he says, 'but its place is not in a man's head,' says
he. 'It ought to be th' reward iv action, not th' cause iv it,' he says.
'It's f'r th' end iv th' day, not th' beginnin',' he says. 'Hot whisky
is good f'r a cold heart, an' no whisky's good f'r a hot head,' he says.
'Th' minyit a man relies on it f'r a crutch he loses th' use iv his
legs. 'Tis a bad thing to stand on, a good thing to sleep on, a good
thing to talk on, a bad thing to think on. If it's in th' head in th'
mornin' it ought not to be in th' mouth at night. If it laughs in ye,
dhrink; if it weeps, swear off. It makes some men talk like good women,
an' some women talk like bad men. It is a livin' f'r orators an' th'
death iv bookkeepers. It doesn't sustain life, but, whin taken hot with
wather, a lump iv sugar, a piece iv lemon peel, and just th' dustin' iv
a nutmeg-grater, it makes life sustainable."

"D'ye think ye-ersilf it sustains life"? asked Mr. Hennessy.

"It has sustained mine f'r many years," said Mr. Dooley.


"I think," said Mr. Dooley, "I'll go down to th' stock yards an' buy a
dhrove iv Steel an' Wire stock."

"Where wud ye keep it?" asked the unsuspecting Hennessy.

"I'll put it out on th' vacant lot," said Mr. Dooley, "an' lave it grow
fat by atin' ol' bur-rd cages an' tin cans. I'll milk it hard, an' whin
'tis dhry I'll dispose iv it to th' widdies an' orphans iv th' Sixth
Ward that need household pets. Be hivins, if they give me half a chanst,
I'll be as gr-reat a fi-nanceer as anny man in Wall sthreet.

"Th' reason I'm so confident iv th' value iv Steel an' Wire stock,
Hinnissy, is they're goin' to hur-rl th' chairman iv th' comity into
jail. That's what th' pa-apers calls a ray iv hope in th' clouds iv
dipression that've covered th' market so long. 'Tis always a bull
argymint. 'Snowplows common was up two pints this mornin' on th' rumor
that th' prisidint was undher ar-rest.' 'They was a gr-reat bulge in
Lobster preferred caused be th' report that instead iv declarin' a
dividend iv three hundhred per cint. th' comp'ny was preparin' to
imprison th' boord iv directors.' 'We sthrongly ricommind th' purchase
iv Con and Founder. This comp'ny is in ixcillint condition since th'
hangin' iv th' comity on reorganization.'"

"What's th' la-ad been doin', Hinnissy? He's been lettin' his frinds in
on th' groun' flure--an' dhroppin' thim into th' cellar. Ye know
Cassidy, over in th' Fifth, him that was in th' ligislachure? Well, sir,
he was a gr-reat frind iv this man. They met down in Springfield whin
th' la-ad had something he wanted to get through that wud protect th'
widdies an' orphans iv th' counthry again their own avarice, an' he
must've handed Cassidy a good argymint, f'r Cassidy voted f'r th' bill,
though threatened with lynchin' be stockholders iv th' rival comp'ny. He
come back here so covered with dimons that wan night whin he was
standin' on th' rollin' mill dock, th' captain iv th' Eliza Brown
mistook his shirt front f'r th' bridge lights an' steered into a soap
facthry on th' lee or gas-house shore."

"Th' man made a sthrong impression on Cassidy. 'Twas: 'As me frind Jawn
says,' or 'I'll ask Jawn about that,' or 'I'm goin' downtown to-day to
find out what Jawn advises.' He used to play a dollar on th' horses or
sivin-up f'r th' dhrinks, but afther he met Jawn he wanted me to put in
a ticker, an' he wud set in here figurin' with a piece iv chalk on how
high Wire'd go if hoopskirts come into fashion again. 'Give me a dhrop
iv whisky,' he says, 'f'r I'm inthrested in Distillers,' he says, 'an'
I'd like to give it a shove,' he says. 'How's Gas?' he says. 'A little
weak, to-day,'" says I.

"Twill be sthronger,' he says. 'If it ain't,' says I, 'I'll take out th'
meter an' connect th' pipe with th' ventilator. I might as well bur-rn
th' wind free as buy it,'" I says.

"A couple iv weeks ago he see Jawn an' they had a long talk about it.
'Cassidy,' says Jawn, 'ye've been a good frind iv mine,' he says, 'an'
I'd do annything in the wurruld f'r ye, no matther what it cost ye,' he
says. 'If ye need a little money to tide over th' har-rd times till th'
ligislachure meets again buy'--an' he whispered in Cassidy's ear. 'But,'
he says,'don't tell annywan. 'Tis a good thing, but I want to keep it
bottled up,'" he says.

"Thin Jawn took th' thrain an' begun confidin' his secret to a few
select frinds. He give it to th' conductor on th' thrain, an' th'
porther, an' th' candy butcher; he handed it to a switchman that got on
th' platform at South Bend, an' he stopped off at Detroit long enough to
tell about it to the deepo' policeman. He had a sign painted with th'
tip on it an' hung it out th' window, an' he found a man that carrid a
thrombone in a band goin' over to Buffalo, an' he had him set th' good
thing to music an' play it through th' thrain. Whin he got to New York
he stopped at the Waldorf Asthoria, an' while th' barber was powdhrin'
his face with groun' dimons Jawn tol' him to take th' money he was goin'
to buy a policy ticket with an' get in on th' good thing. He tol' th'
bootblack, th' waiter, th' man at th' news-stand, th' clerk behind th'
desk, an' th' bartinder in his humble abode. He got up a stereopticon
show with pitchers iv a widow-an-orphan befure an' afther wirin', an' he
put an advertisement in all th' pa-apers tellin' how his stock wud make
weak men sthrong. He had th' tip sarved hot in all th' resthrants in
Wall sthrcet, an' told it confidintially to an open-air meetin' in
Madison Square. 'They'se nawthin,' he says, 'that does a tip so much
good as to give it circulation,' he says. 'I think, be this time,' he
says, 'all me frinds knows how to proceed, but--Great Hivins!' he says.
'What have I done? Whin all the poor people go to get th' stock they
won't be anny f'r thim. I can not lave thim thus in th' lurch. Me
reputation as a gintleman an' a fi-nanceer is at stake,' he says.
'Rather than see these brave people starvin' at th' dure f'r a morsel iv
common or preferred, I'll--I'll sell thim me own stock,' he says. An' he
done it. He done it, Hinnissy, with unfalthrin' courage an' a clear eye.
He sold thim his stock, an' so's they might get what was left at a
raysonable price, he wrote a confidintial note to th' pa-apers tellin'
thim th' stock wasn't worth thirty cints a cord, an' now, be hivins,
they're talkin' iv puttin' him in a common jail or pinitinchry
preferred. Th' ingratichood iv man."

"But what about Cassidy?" Mr. Hennessy asked.

"Oh," said Mr. Dooley, "he was in here las' night. 'How's our old frind
Jawn?' says I. He said nawthin'. 'Have ye seen ye'er collidge chum iv
late?' says I. 'Don't mintion that ma-an's name,' says he. 'To think iv
what I've done f'r him,' he says, 'an' him to throw me down,' he says.
'Did ye play th' tip?' says I. 'I did,' says he. 'How did ye come out?'
says I. 'I haven't a cint lift but me renommynation f'r th'
ligislachure,' says he. 'Well,' says I, 'Cassidy,' I says, 'ye've been
up again what th' pa-apers call hawt finance,' I says. 'What th'
divvle's that?' says he. 'Well,' says I, 'it ain't burglary, an' it
ain't obtainin' money be false pretinses, an' it ain't manslaughter,' I
says. 'It's what ye might call a judicious seliction fr'm th' best
features iv thim ar-rts,' I says. 'T'was too sthrong f'r me,' he says.
'It was,' says I. 'Ye're about up to simple thransom climbin', Cassidy,'
I says."


"If this r-rush iv people to th' Paris exposition keeps up," said Mr.
Hennessy, "they won't be enough left here f'r to ilict a prisidint."

"They'll be enough left," said Mr. Dooley. "There always is. No wan has
gone fr'm Arrchey r-road, where th' voters ar-re made. I've looked ar-
round ivry mornin' expectin' to miss some familyar faces. I thought
Dorgan, th' plumber, wud go sure, but he give it up at th' las' moment,
an' will spind his summer on th' dhrainage canal. Th' baseball season
'll keep a good manny others back, an' a number iv riprisintative
cit'zens who have stock or jobs in th' wire mills have decided that 'tis
much betther to inthrust their savin's to John W. Gates thin to blow
thim in again th' sthreets iv Cairo."

"But takin' it by an' large 'twill be a hard winter f'r th' r-rich.
Manny iv thim will have money enough f'r to return, but they'll be much
sufferin' among thim. I ixpict to have people dhroppin' in here nex'
fall with subscription books f'r th' survivors iv th' Paris exhibition.
Th' women down be th' rollin' mills 'll be sewin' flannels f'r th'
disthressed millyonaires, an' whin th' childher kick about th' food
ye'll say, Hinnissy, 'Just think iv th' poor wretches in th' Lake Shore
dhrive an' thank Gawd f'r what ye have.' Th' mayor 'll open soup
kitchens where th' unforchnit people can come an' get a hearty meal an'
watch th' ticker, an' whin th' season grows hard, ye'll see pinched an'
hungry plutocrats thrampin' th' sthreets with signs r-readin': 'Give us
a cold bottle or we perish.' Perhaps th' polis 'll charge thim an' bust
in their stovepipe hats, th' prisidint 'll sind th' ar-rmy here, a
conspiracy 'll be discovered at th' club to blow up th' poorhouse, an'
volunteers 'll be called on fr'm th' nickel bed houses to protect th'
vested inthrests iv established poverty."

"'Twill be a chanst f'r us to get even, Hinnissy. I'm goin' to organize
th' Return Visitin' Nurses' association, composed entirely iv victims iv
th' parent plant. 'Twill be worth lookin' at to see th' ladies fr'm th'
stock yards r-rushin' into some wretched home down in Peerary avenue,
grabbin' th' misthress iv th' house be th' shouldhers an' makin' her
change her onhealthy silk dhress f'r a pink wrapper, shovelin' in a
little ashes to sprinkle on th' flure, breakin' th' furniture an'
rollin' th' baby in th' coal box. What th' r-rich needs is intilligint
attintion. 'Don't ate that oatmeal. Fry a nice piece iv r-round steak
with onions, give th' baby th' bone to play with, an' sind Lucille
Ernestine acrost th' railroad thrack f'r a nickel's worth iv beer. Thin
ye'll be happy, me good woman.' Oh, 'twill be gran'. I won't give
annything to people that come to th' dure. More har-m is done be
indiscriminate charity than anny wan knows, Hinnissy. Half th' bankers
that'll come to ye-er kitchen nex' winter cud find plenty iv wurruk to
do if they really wanted it. Dhrink an' idleness is th' curse iv th'
class. If they come to me I'll sind thim to th' Paris Survivors'
Mechanical Relief Association, an' they can go down an' set on a cake iv
ice an' wait till th' man in charge finds thim a job managin' a diamond


Mr. Hennessy dismissed Mr. Dooley's fancy sketch with a grin and
remarked: "These here expositions is a gran' thing f'r th' progress iv
th' wurruld."

"Ye r-read that in th' pa-apers," said Mr. Dooley, "an" it isn't so. Put
it down fr'm me, Hinnissy, that all expositions is a blind f'r th'
hootchy-kootchy dance. They'll be some gr-reat exhibits at th' Paris
fair. Th' man that has a machine that'll tur-rn out three hundhred
thousan' toothpicks ivry minyit'll sind over his inthrestin' device,
they'll be mountains iv infant food an' canned prunes, an' pickle
casters, an' pants, an' boots, an' shoes an' paintin's. They'll be all
th' wondhers iv modhern science. Ye can see how shirts ar-re made, an'
what gives life to th' sody fountain. Th' man that makes th' glue that
binds 'll be wearin' more medals thin an officer iv th' English ar-rmy
or a cinchry bicycle rider, an' years afther whin ye see a box iv soap
ye'll think iv th' manufacthrer standin' up befure a hundhred thousan'
frinzied Fr-rinchmen in th' Boss du Boloney while th' prisidint iv th'
Fr-rinch places a goold wreath on his fair brow an' says: 'In th' name
iv th' ar-rts an' science, undher th' motto iv our people, "Libertinity,
insanity, an' frugality," I crown ye th' champeen soapmaker iv th'
wurruld. [Cheers.] Be ye'er magnificint invintion ye have dhrawn closer
th' ties between Paris an' Goshen, Indyanny [frantic applause], which I
hope will niver be washed away. I wish ye much success as ye climb th'
lather iv fame.' Th' invintor is thin dhrawn ar-roun' th' sthreets iv
Paris in a chariot pulled be eight white horses amid cries iv 'Veev
Higgins,' 'Abase Castile,' et cethra, fr'm th' populace. An' manny a
heart beats proud in Goshen that night. That's th' way ye think iv it,
but it happens diff'rent, Hinnissy. Th' soap king, th' prune king, an'
th' porous plaster king fr'm here won't stir up anny tumult in Paris
this year. Th' chances ar-re th' prisidint won't know they're there, an'
no wan'll speak to thim but a cab dhriver, an' he'll say: 'Th' fare fr'm
th' Changs All Easy to th' Roo de Roo is eighteen thousan' francs, but
I'll take ye there f'r what ye have in ye-er pockets.'"

"The millyonaire that goes over there to see th' piled up riches iv th'
wurruld in sausage-makin' 'll take a look ar-round him an' he'll say to
th' first polisman he meets: 'Gossoon, this is a fine show an' I know
yon palace is full to th' seams with chiny-ware an' washtubs, but wud ye
be so kind, mong brav', as to p'int out with ye-er club th' partic'lar
house where th' houris fr'm th' sultan's harem dances so well without
the aid iv th' human feet?' I know how it was whin we had th' fair here.
I had th' best intintions in th' wurruld to find out what I ought to
have larned fr'm me frind Armour, how with th' aid iv Gawdgiven
machinery ye can make a bedstead, a pianola, a dozen whisk-brooms, a
barrel iv sour mash whisky, a suit iv clothes, a lamp chimbly, a wig, a
can iv gunpowdher, a bah'rl iv nails, a prisidintial platform, an' a
bur-rdcage out iv what remains iv th' cow-I was detarmined to probe into
th' wondhers iv science, an' I started fair f'r th' machinery hall.
Where did I bring up, says ye? In th' fr-ront seat iv a playhouse with
me eye glued on a lady iv th' sultan's coort, near Brooklyn bridge,
thryin' to twisht out iv hersilf."

"No, Hinnissy, they'll be manny things larned be Americans that goes to
Paris, but they won't be about th' 'convarsion iv boots into food, or
vicey varsa,' as Hogan says. An' that's r-right. If I wint over there
'tis little time I'd be spindin' thryin' to discover how th' wondhers iv
mechanical janius are projooced that makes livin' so much more healthy
an' oncomfortable. But whin I got to Paris I'd hire me a hack or a dhray
painted r-red, an' I'd put me feet out th' sides an' I'd say to th'
dhriver: 'Rivolutionist, pint ye-er horse's head to'rds th'home iv th'
skirt dance, hit him smartly, an' go to sleep. I will see th' snow-plow
show an' th' dentisthry wurruk in th' pa-apers. F'r th' prisint I'll
devote me attintion to makin' a noise in th' sthreets an' studyin' human

"Ye'd be a lively ol' buck over there," said Mr. Hennessy, admiringly.
'"Tis a good thing ye can't go."

"It is so," said Mr. Dooley. "I'm glad I have no millyonaire rilitives
to be depindent on me f'r support whin th' show's over."


"I see," said Mr. Dooley, "that th' la-ad out in Kansas that thried to
r-run a paper like what th' Lord wud r-run if he had lived in Topeka,
has thrun up th' job."

"Sure, I niver heerd iv him," said Mr. Hennessy.

"Well, 'twus this way with him," Mr. Dooley explained. "Ye see, he
didn't like th' looks iv th' newspapers. He got tired iv r-readin' how
many rows iv plaits Mrs. Potther Pammer had on th' las' dhress she
bought, an' whether McGovern oughtn't to go into th' heavy-weight class
an' fight Jeffries, an' he says, says th' la-ad, 'This is no right
readin' f'r th' pure an' passionless youth iv Kansas,' he says. 'Give
me,' he says, 'a chanst an' I'll projooce th' kind iv organ that'd be
got out in hiven,' he says, 'price five cints a copy,' he says, 'f'r
sale be all newsdealers; f'r advertisin' rates consult th' cashier,' he
says. So a man in Topeka that had a newspaper, he says: 'I will not be
behindhand,' he says, 'in histin' Kansas up fr'm its prisint low an'
irrellijous position,' he says. 'I don't know how th' inhabitants iv
th' place ye refer to is fixed,' he says, 'f'r newspapers,' he says,
'an' I niver heerd iv annybody fr'm Kansas home-stakin' there,' he says,
'but if ye'll attind to th' circulation iv thim parts,' he says, 'I'll
see that th' paper is properly placed in th' hands iv th' vile an'
wicked iv this earth, where,' he says, 'th' returns ar-re more quick,'
he says."

"Well, th' la-ad wint at it, an' 'twas a fine paper he made. Hogan was
in here th' other day with a copy iv it an' I r-read it. I haven't had
such a lithry threat since I was a watchman on th' canal f'r a week with
nawthin' to r-read but th' delinquent tax list an' the upper half iv a
weather map. 'Twas gran'. Th' editor, it seems, Hinnissy, wint into th'
editoryal rooms iv th' pa-aper an' he gathered th' force around him fr'm
their reg'lar jobs in th' dhrug stores, an' says he, 'Gintlemen,' he
says, 'tell me ye'er plans f'r to enoble this here Christyan publication
f'r to-day!' he says. 'Well,' says th' horse rayporther, 'they's a
couple iv rabbits goin' to sprint around th' thrack at th' fair
groun's,' he says. I think 'twud be a good thing f'r rellijon if ye'd
lind me tin that I might br-reak th' sin-thralled bookys that come down
here fr'm Kansas City f'r to skin th' righteous,' he says. 'No,' says
th' editor, he says, 'no horse racin' in this paper,' he says. ''Tis th'
roonation iv th' young, an' ye can't beat it,' he says. 'An' you, fair-
haired youth,' he says, 'what d'ye do that makes ye'er color so good an'
ye'er eye so bright?' 'I,' says th' la-ad, 'am th' boy that writes th'
fightin' dope,' he says. 'They'se a couple iv good wans on at th' op'ra
house to-night, an' if his Spiklets don't tin-can 'tis like findin'
money in an ol' coat that--' 'Fightin',' says th' editor, 'is a crool
an' onchristyan spoort,' he says. 'Instead iv chroniclin' th' ruffyanism
iv these misguided wretches that weigh in at th' ringside at 125 poun's,
an' I see in a pa-aper I r-read in a barber shop th' other day that
Spike's gone away back--what's that I'm sayin'? Niver mind. D'ye go down
to th' home iv th' Rivrind Aloysius Augustus Morninbinch an'interview
him on th' question iv man's co-operation with grace in conversion. Make
a nice chatty article about it an' I'll give ye a copy iv wan iv me
books.' 'I will,' says th' la-ad, 'if he don't swing on me,' he says.
The editor thin addhressed th' staff. 'Gintlemen,' he says, 'I find that
th' wurruk ye've been accustomed to doin',' he says, 'is calc'lated f'r
to disthroy th' morality an' debase th' home life iv Topeka, not to
mintion th' surroundin' methrolopuses iv Valencia, Wanamaker, Sugar
Works, Paxico an' Snokomo,' he says. 'Th' newspaper, instead iv bein' a
pow'rful agent f'r th' salvation iv mankind, has become something that
they want to r-read,' he says. 'Ye can all go home,' he says. 'I'll stay
here an' write th' paper mesilf,' he says. 'I'm th' best writer ar-round
here, annyhow, an' I'll give thim something that'll prepare thim f'r
death,' he says.

"An' he did, Hinnissy, he did. 'Twas a gran' paper. They was an article
on sewerage an' wan on prayin' f'r rain, an' another on muni-cipal
ownership iv gas tanks, an' wan to show that they niver was a good
milker ownded be a pro-fane man. They was pomes, too, manny iv thim, an'
fine wans: 'Th' Man with th' Shovel,' 'Th' Man with th' Pick, 'Th' Man
with th' Cash-Raygisther,' 'Th' Man with th' Snow Plow,' 'Th' Man with
th' Bell Punch,' 'Th' Man with th' Skate,' 'Th' Man with No Kick
Comin'.' Fine pothry, th' editor askin' who pushed this here man's
forehead back an' planed down his chin, who made him wear clothes that
didn't fit him and got him a job raisin' egg-plant f'r th' monno-polists
in Topeka at a dollar a day. A man in th' editor's position ought to
know, but he didn't, so he ast in th'pomes. An' th' advertisin',
Hinnissy! I'd be scandalized f'r to go back readin' th' common
advertisin' in th' vile daily press about men's pantings, an'
DoesannyoneknowwhereIcangeta biscuit, an' In th' spring a young man's
fancy lightly turns to Pocohontas plug, not made be th' thrusts. Th'
editor left thim sacrilegious advertisements f'r his venal
contimp'raries. His was pious an' nice: 'Do ye'er smokin' in this
wurruld. Th' Christyan Unity Five-Cint See-gar is made out iv th' finest
grades iv excelsior iver projooced in Kansas!' 'Nebuchednezzar grass
seed, f'r man an' beast.' 'A handful iv meal in a barrel an' a little
ile in a curse. Swedenborgian bran fried in kerosene makes th' best
breakfast dish in th' wurruld.' 'Twus nice to r-read. It made a man feel
as if he was in church--asleep."

"How did th'pa-aper sthrike th' people?" says ye. "Oh, it sthruck thim
good. Says th' Topeka man, skinnin' over th' gossip about Christyan
citizenship an' th' toolchest iv pothry: 'Eliza, here's a good paper, a
fine wan, f'r ye an' th' childher. Sind Tommy down to th' corner an' get
me a copy iv th' Polis Gazette.'"

"Ye see, Hinnissy, th' editor wint to th' wrong shop f'r what Hogan
calls his inspiration. Father Kelly was talkin' it over with me, an'
says he: 'They ain't anny news in bein' good. Ye might write th' doin's
iv all th' convents iv th' wurruld on th' back iv a postage stamp, an'
have room to spare. Supposin' ye took out iv a newspaper all th'
murdhers, an' suicides, an' divorces, an elopements, an' fires, an'
disease, an' war, an' famine,' he says, 'ye wudden't have enough left to
keep a man busy r-readin' while he rode ar-roun' th' block on th'
lightnin' express. No,' he says, 'news is sin an' sin is news, an' I'm
worth on'y a line beginnin': "Kelly, at the parish-house, April twinty-
sicond, in th' fiftieth year iv his age," an' pay f'r that, while
Scanlan's bad boy is good f'r a column anny time he goes dhrunk an'
thries to kill a polisman. A rellijious newspaper? None iv thim f'r me.
I want to know what's goin' on among th' murdher an' burglary set. Did
ye r-read it?' he says. 'I did,' says I. 'What did ye think iv it?' says
he. 'I know,' says I, 'why more people don't go to church,' says I."


"I see," said Mr. Hennessy, "that Dewey is a candydate f'r prisidint."

"Well, sir" said Mr. Dooley, "I hope to hiven he won't get it. No
rilitive iv mine iver held a pollytical job barrin' mesilf. I was
precint captain, an' wan iv th' best they was in thim days, if I do say
so that shudden't. I was called Cap f'r manny years aftherward, an'
I'd've joined th' Gr-rand Army iv th' Raypublic if it hadn't been f'r me
poor feet. Manny iv me rilitives has been candydates, but they niver cud
win out again th' r-rest iv th' fam'ly. 'Tis so with Cousin George. I'm
again him. I've been a rayspictable saloon-keeper f'r forty years in
this ward, an' I'll not have th' name dhragged into pollytics."

"Iv coorse, I don't blame Cousin George. I'm with him f'r annything else
in th' gift iv th' people, fr'm a lovin'-cup to a house an' lot. He
don't mean annything be it. Did ye iver see a sailor thryin' to ride a
horse? 'Tis a comical sight. Th' reason a sailor thries to ride a horse
is because he niver r-rode wan befure. If he knew annything about it he
wouldn't do it. So be Cousin George. Afther he'd been over here awhile
an' got so 'twas safe f'r him to go out without bein' torn to pieces f'r
soovenirs or lynched be a mob, he took a look ar-round him an' says he
to a polisman: 'What's th' governmint iv this counthry"?' 'Tis a
raypublic,' says th' polisman. 'What's th' main guy called?' says
George. 'He's called prisidint,' says th' polisman. 'Is it a good job?'
says Cousin George. ''Tis betther thin thravelin' beat,' says th' bull.
'What's th' la-ad's name that's holdin' it now?' says Cousin George.
'Mack,' says th' cop. 'Irish?' says George. 'Cross,' says th' elbow.
'Where fr'm?' says George. 'Ohio,' says the peeler. 'Where's that?'
says George. 'I dinnaw,' says th' bull. An' they parted th' best iv

"'Well,' says George to himsilf, 'I guess I'll have to go up an' have a
look at this la-ad's place,' he says, 'an' if it looks good,' he says,
'p'raps I cud nail it,' he says. An' he goes up an' sees Mack dictatin'
his Porther Rickyan policy to a kinetoscope, an' it looks like a nice
employmint f'r a spry man, an' he goes back home an' sinds f'r a
rayporther, an' says he: 'I always believe since I got home in dealin'
frankly with th' press. I haven't seen manny papers since I've been at
sea, but whin I was a boy me father used to take the Montpelier
Paleejum. 'Twas r-run be a man be th' name iv Horse Clamback. He was
quite a man whin sober. Ye've heerd iv him, no doubt. But what I ast ye
up here f'r was to give ye a item that ye can write up in ye'er own way
an' hand to th' r-rest iv th' boys. I'm goin' to be prisidint. I like
th' looks iv the job an' nobody seems to care f'r it, an' I've got so
blame tired since I left th' ship that if I don't have somethin' to do
I'll go crazy,' he says. 'I wisht ye'd make a note iv it an' give it to
th' other papers,' he says. 'Ar-re ye a raypublican or a dimmycrat"?'
says the rayporter. 'What's that?' says Cousin George. 'D'ye belong to
th' raypublican or th' dimmycrat party?' 'What ar-re they like?' says
Cousin George. 'Th' raypublicans ar-re in favor iv expansion.' 'Thin I'm
a raypublican.' 'Th' dim-mycrats ar-re in favor iv free thrade.' 'Thin
I'm a dimmycrat.' 'Th' raypublicans ar-re f'r upholdin' th' goold
standard.' 'So'm I. I'm a raypublican there.' 'An' they're opposed to an
income tax.' 'On that,' says Cousin George, 'I'm a dimmycrat. I tell ye,
put me down as a dimmycrat. Divvle th' bit I care. Just say I'm a
dimmycrat with sthrong raypublican leanings. Put it this way: I'm a
dimmycrat, be a point raypublican, dimmycrat. Anny sailor man'll
undherstand that.' 'What'll I say ye'er platform is?' 'Platform?' 'Ye
have to stand on a platform.' 'I do, do I? Well, I don't. I'll stand on
no platform, an' I'll hang on no sthrap. What d'ye think th'prisidincy
is--a throlley car? No, sir, whin ye peek in th' dure to sell ye'er
paper ye'll see ye'er Uncle George settin' down comfortable with his
legs crossed, thrippin' up annywan that thries to pass him. Go out now
an' write ye'er little item, f'r 'tis late an' all hands ar-re piped to
bed,' he says."

"An' there ye ar-re. Well, sir, 'tis a hard year Cousin George has in
store f'r him. Th' first thing he knows he'll have to pay f'r havin' his
pitchers in th' pa-aper. Thin he'll larn iv siv'ral prevyous convictions
in Vermont. Thin he'll discover that they was no union label on th'
goods he delivered at Manila. 'Twill be pointed out be careful observers
that he was ilicted prisidint iv th' A. P. A. be th' Jesuits. Thin
somewan'll dig up that story about his not feelin' anny too well th'
mornin' iv th' fight, an' ye can imajine th' pitchers they'll print, an'
th' jokes that'll be made, an' th' songs: 'Dewey Lost His Appetite at
th' Battle iv Manila. Did McKinley Iver Lose His?' An' George'll wake up
th' mornin' afther iliction an' he'll have a sore head an' a sorer
heart, an' he'll find that th' on'y support he got was fr'm th' goold
dimmycratic party, an' th' chances ar-re he caught cold fr'm goin' out
without his shawl an' cudden't vote. He'll find that a man can be r-
right an' be prisidint, but he can't be both at th' same time. An' he'll
go down to breakfast an' issue Gin'ral Ordher Number Wan, 'To All
Superyor Officers Commandin' Admirals iv th' United States navy at home
or on foreign service: If anny man mintions an admiral f'r prisidint,
hit him in th' eye an' charge same to me.' An' thin he'll go to his
office an' prepare a plan f'r to capture Dublin, th' capital iv England,
whin th' nex' war begins. An' he'll spind th' r-rest iv his life thryin'
to live down th' time he was a candydate."

"Well, be hivins, I think if Dewey says he's a dimmycrat an' Joyce is
with him, I'll give him a vote," said Mr. Hennessy. "It's no sin to be a
candydate f'r prisidint."

"No," said Mr. Dooley. "Tis sometimes a misfortune an' sometimes a joke.
But I hope ye won't vote f'r him. He might be ilicted if ye did. I'd
like to raymimber him, an' it might be I cudden't if he got th' job. Who
was the prisidint befure Mack? Oh, tubby sure!"


"Well, sir," said Mr. Dooley, "'tis good to see that th' gloryous ol'
commonwealth iv Kentucky is itsilf again."

"How's that?" asked Mr. Hennessy.

"F'r some time past," said Mr. Dooley, "they's been nawthin' doin'
that'd make a meetin' iv th' Epworth League inthrestin'. Th' bystanders
in Kentucky has been as safe as a journeyman highwayman in Chicago.
Perfectly innocent an' unarmed men wint into th' state an' come out
again without a bullethole in their backs. It looked f'r awhile as if
th' life iv th' ordn'ry visitor was goin' to be as harmless in Kentucky
as in Utah, th' home iv th' desthroyers iv American domestic life. I
dinnaw why it was, whether it was th' influence iv our new citizens in
Cubia an' th' Ph'lippeens or what it was, but annyhow th' on'y news that
come out iv Kentucky was as peaceful, Hinnissy, as th' rayports iv a
bloody battle in South Africa. But Kentucky, as Hogan says, was not dead
but on'y sleepin'. Th' other day that gran' ol' state woke up through
two iv its foremost rapid firin' citizens."

"They met be chanst in a hotel con-tagious to a bar. Colonel Derringer
was settin' in a chair peacefully fixin' th' hammer iv his forty-four
Colt gun, presinted to him be his constitooents on th' occasion iv his
mim'rable speech on th' nicissity iv spreadin' th' civilization iv th'
United States to th' ends iv th' wur-ruld. Surroundin' him was Major
Bullseye, a well-known lawyer, cattle-raiser an' journalist iv Athens,
Bulger County, whose desthruction iv Captain Cassius Glaucus Wiggins at
th' meetin' iv' th' thrustees in th' Sicond Baptist Church excited so
much comment among spoortin' men three or four years ago, Gin'ral
Rangefinder iv Thebes, Colonel Chivvy iv Sparta, who whittled Major
Lycurgus Gam iv Thermopylae down to th' wishbone at th' anti-polygamist
meetin' las' June, an' other well-known gintlemen."

"Th' party was suddenly confronted be Major Lyddite iv Carthage an' a
party iv frinds who were in town for th' purpose iv protectin' th'
suffrage again' anny pollution but their own. Colonel Derringer an'
Major Lyddite had been inimies f'r sivral months, iver since Major
Lyddite in an attimpt to desthroy wan iv his fellow-citizens killed a
cow belongin' to th' janial Colonel. Th' two gintlemen had sworn f'r to
slay each other at sight or thirty days, an' all Kentucky society has
been on what Hogan calls th' _quee veev_ or look-out f'r another
thrajeedy to be added to th' long list iv sim'lar ivints that marks th'
histhry iv th' Dark an' Bloody Groun'--which is a name given to Kentucky
be her affectionate sons."


"Without a wur-rud or a bow both gintlemen dhrew on each other an'
begun a deadly fusillade. That is, Hinnissy, they begun shootin' at th'
bystanders. I'll tell ye what th' pa-apers said about it. Th' two
antagonists was in perfect form an' well sustained th' reputation iv th'
state f'r acc'rate workmanship. Colonel Derringer's first shot caught a
boot an' shoe drummer fr'm Chicago square in th' back amid consid'rable
applause. Major Lyddite tied th' scoor be nailin' a scrubwoman on th'
top iv a ladder. Th' man at th' traps sprung a bell boy whom th' Colonel
on'y winged, thus goin' back wan, but his second barrel brought down a
book-canvasser fr'm New York, an' this bein' a Jew man sint him ahead
three. Th' Major had an aisy wan f'r th' head waiter, nailin' him just
as he jumped into a coal hole. Four all. Th' Colonel thried a difficult
polisman, lamin' him. Thin th' Major turned his attintion to his own
frinds, an' made three twos in succession. Th' Colonel was not so
forch'nate. He caught Major Bullseye an' Captain Wiggins, but Gin'ral
Rangefinder was safe behind a barber's pole an' Colonel Chivvy fluttered
out iv range. Thus th' scoor was tin to six at th' conclusion iv th'
day's spoort in favor iv Major Lyddite. Unforchnately th' gallant Major
was onable f'r to reap th' reward iv his excellent marksmanship, f'r in
a vain indeavor f'r a large scoor, he chased th' barber iv th' sicond
chair into th' street, an' there slippin' on a banana peel, fell an'
sustained injuries fr'm which he subsequently died. In him th' counthry
loses a valu'ble an' acc'rate citizen, th' state a lile an' rapid firin'
son, an' society a leadin' figure, his meat-market an' grocery bein' wan
iv th' largest outside iv Minerva. Some idee iv th' acc'racy iv th' fire
can be gained fr'm th' detailed scoor, as follows: Lyddite, three
hearts, wan lung, wan kidney, five brains. Derringer, four hearts, two
brains. This has seldom been excelled. Among th' minor casualties
resultin' fr'm this painful but delightful soiree was th' followin':
Erastus Haitch Muggins, kilt be jumpin' fr'm th' roof; Blank Cassidy,
hide an' pelt salesman fr'm Chicago, burrid undher victims; Captain
Epaminondas Lucius Quintus Cassius Marcellus Xerxes Cyrus Bangs of
Hoganpolis, Hamilcar Township, Butseen County, died iv hear-rt disease
whin his scoor was tied. Th' las' named was a prominent leader in
society, a crack shot an' a gintleman iv th' ol' school without fear an'
without reproach. His son succeeds to his lunch car. Th' others don't

"'Twas a gr-reat day f'r Kentucky, Hinnissy, an' it puts th' gran' ol'
state two or three notches ahead iv anny sim'lar community in th' wur-
ruld. Talk about th' Boer war an' th' campaign in th' Ph'lippeens! Whin
Kentucky begins f'r to shoot up her fav'rite sons they'll be more blood
spilled thin thim two play wars'd spill between now an' th' time whin
Ladysmith's relieved f'r th' las' time an' Agynaldoo is r-run up a three
in th' outermost corner iv Hoar County, state iv Luzon. They'se rale
shootin' in Kentucky, an' whin it begins ivrybody takes a hand. 'Tis th'
on'y safe way. If ye thry to be an onlooker an' what they calls a non-
combatant 'tis pretty sure ye'll be taken home to ye'er fam'ly lookin'
like a cribbage-boord. So th' thing f'r ye to do is to be wan iv th'
shooters ye'ersilf, load up ye'er gun an' whale away f'r th' honor iv
ye'er counthry."

"'Tis a disgrace," said Mr. Hennessy. "Where were th' polis?"

"This was not th' place f'r a polisman," said Mr. Dooley. "I suspict
though, fr'm me knowledge iv th' kind iv man that uses firear-rms that
if some wan'd had th' prisence iv mind to sing out 'They'se a man at th'
bar that offers to buy dhrinks f'r th' crowd,' they'd be less casu'lties
fr'm bullets, though they might be enough people kilt in th' r-rush to
even it up. But whin I read about these social affairs in Kentucky, I
sometimes wish some spool cotton salesman fr'm Matsachoosets, who'd be
sure to get kilt whin th' shootin' begun, wud go down there with a
baseball bat an' begin tappin' th' gallant gintlemen on th' head befure
breakfast an' in silf definse. I'll bet ye he'd have thim jumpin'
through thransoms in less thin two minyits, f'r ye can put this down as
thrue fr'm wan that's seen manny a shootin', that a man, barrin' he's a
polisman, on'y dhraws a gun whin he's dhrunk or afraid. Th' gun fighter,
Hinnissy, tin to wan is a cow'rd."

"That's so," said Mr. Hennessy. "But it don't do to take anny chances

"No," said Mr. Dooley, "he might be dhrunk."


"Well, sir, I guess I'm not up on etiket," said Mr. Dooley.

"How's that?" demanded Mr. Hennessy.

"I've been readin' about Willum Waldorf Asthor," replied Mr. Dooley,
"an' th' throuble he had with a la-ad that bummed his way into his
party. Ye see, Hinnissy, Willum Waldorf Asthor give a party at his large
an' commodjious house in London. That's where he lives--in London--
though he r-runs a hotel in New York, where ye can see half th' state iv
Ioway near anny night, they tell me. Well, he give this party on a gran'
scale, an' bought gr-reat slathers iv food an' dhrink, an' invited th'
neighbors an' the neighbors' childher. But wan man he wudden't have.
He's goin' over th' list iv th' people that's to come, an' he says to
his sicrety: 'Scratch that boy. Him an' me bump as we pass by.' He
didn't want this fellow, ye see, Hinnissy. I don't know why. They was
dissatisfaction between thim; annyhow, he says: 'Scratch him,' an' he
was out iv it."

"Well, wan night, th' fellow was settin' down f'r a bite to eat with
Lady O----, an' Lady S----, an' Lady G----, an' Lady Y----, an' other
ladies that had lost their names, an' says wan iv thim, 'Cap,' she says,
'ar-re ye goin' to Asthor's doin's tonight?' she says. 'Not that I know
iv,' says th' Cap. 'He hasn't sint me anny wurrud that I'm wanted,' he
says. 'What differ does it make,' says th' lady. 'Write an invitation
f'r ye'rsilf on ye'er cuff an' come along with us,' says she. 'I'll do
it,' says the Cap, an' he sint f'r an automobile an' goes along.

"Well, ivrything was all r-right f'r awhile, an' th' Cap was assaultin'
a knuckle iv ham an' a shell iv beer, whin Willum Waldorf Asthor comes
up an' taps him on th' shoulder an' says: 'Duck.' 'What name?' says th'
Cap. 'Asthor,' says Willum. 'Oh,' says th' Cap, 'ye're th' American
gazabo that owns this hut,' he says. 'I am,' says Willum. 'I can't go,'
says th' Cap. 'Ye didn't ask me here an' ye can't sind me away,' he
says. 'Gossoon, another shell iv malt, an' dhraw it more slow,' he says.
'I am an English gintleman an' I know me rights,' he says. 'Dure or
window,' says Willum. 'Take ye'er choice,' he says. 'If ye insist,' says
th' Cap, 'I'll take th' dure,' he says, 'but ye don't know th' customs
iv civilization,' he says; an' th' hired man just grazed him on th' dure

"Well, Willum Waldorf Asthor was that mad, he wint down to his pa-aper
office, an' says he, 'I want to put in an item,' he says, an' he put it
in. 'It is wished,' he says, 'to be apprihinded,' he says, 'be those
desirous not to have been misinformed,' he says, 'concarnin' th' recent
appearance iv Cap Sir Mills at me party,' he says, 'that 'twas not be me
that said Cap Sir Mills come to be on th' site,' he says, 'but rather,'
he says, 'through a desire on th' part iv Cap Sir Mills to butt into a
party to which his invitation was lost about three hours befure 'twas
written,' he says."

"Well, now, ye'd think that was all right, wudden't ye? Ye'd say Asthor
acted mild whin he didn't take down his goold ice pick from th' wall an'
bate th' Cap over th' head. Th' Cap, though a ganial soul, had no
business there. 'Twas Willum Waldorf Asthor that paid f'r the ice cream
an' rented th' chiny. But that's where ye'd be wrong, an' that's where I
was wrong. Whin th' Prince iv Wales heerd iv it he was furyous. 'What,'
he says, 'is an English gintleman goin' to be pegged out iv dures be a
mere American be descent?' he says. 'A man,' he says, 'that hasn't an
entail to his name,' he says. 'An American's home in London is an
Englishman's castle,' he says. 'As th' late Earl iv Pitt said, th'
furniture may go out iv it, th' constable may enther, th' mortgage may
fall on th' rooned roof, but a thrue Englishman'll niver leave,' he
says, 'while they'se food an' dhrink,' he says. 'Willum Waldorf Asthor
has busted th' laws iv hospitality, an' made a monkey iv a lile subjick
iv th' queen,' he says. 'Hinceforth,' he says, 'he's ast to no picnics
iv th' Buckingham Palace Chowder Club,' he says. An' th' nex' day Willum
Waldorf Asthor met him at th' races where he was puttin' down a bit iv
money an' spoke to him, an' th' Prince iv Wales gave him wan in th' eye.
He must've had something in his hand, f'r the pa-aper said he cut him.
P'raps 'twas his scipter. An' now no wan'll speak to Willum Waldorf
Asthor, an' he's not goin' to be a jook at all, an' he may have to come
back here an' be nachurlized over again like a Bohamian. He's all broke
up about it. He's gone to Germany to take a bath."

"Lord, help us," said Mr. Hennessy, "can't he get wan nearer home?"

"It seems not," said Mr. Dooley. "Mebbe the Prince iv Wales has had th'
wather cut off. He has a big pull with th' people in th' city hall."


"Why should anny man want to kill a king?" said Mr. Dooley. "That's
what I'd like to know. Little gredge have I again' anny monarch in th'
deck. Live an' let live's me motto. Th' more ye have in this wurruld th'
less ye have. Make in wan place, lose in another's th' rule, me boy.
Little joy, little sorrow. Takin' it all an' all I'd rather be where I
am thin on a throne, an' be th' look iv things I'll have me wish. 'Tis
no aisy job bein' a king barrin' th' fact that ye don't have to marry
th' woman iv ye'er choice but th' woman iv somebody else's. 'Tis like
takin' a conthract an' havin' th' union furnish th' foreman an' th'
mateeryal. Thin if th' wurruk ain't good a wild-eyed man fr'm Paterson,
Noo Jarsey, laves his monkey an' his hand organ an' takes a shot at ye.
Thank th' Lord I'm not so big that anny man can get comfort fr'm pumpin'
a Winchester at me fr'm th' top iv a house."

"But if I was king ne'er an organ grinder'd get near enough me to take
me life with a Hotchkiss gun. I'd be so far away fr'm the multitood,
Hinnissy, that they cud on'y distinguish me rile features with a spy-
glass. I'd have polismen at ivry tur-rn, an' I'd have me subjicks retire
to th' cellar whin I took me walk. Divvle a bit wud you catch me
splattherin' mesilf with morthar an' stickin' newspapers in a hole in a
corner shtone to show future gin'rations th' progress iv crime in this
cinchry. They'd lay their own corner-shtone f'r all iv me. I'd
communicate with th' pop'lace be means iv ginral ordhers, an' I'd make
it a thing worth tellin' about to see th' face iv th' gr-reat an' good
King Dooley."

"Kings is makin' thimsilves too common. Nowadays an arnychist dhrops
into a lunch-room at th' railroad depot an' sees a man settin' on a
stool atin' a quarther section iv a gooseb'ry pie an' dhrinkin' a glass
iv buttermilk. 'D'ye know who that is?' says th' lunch-counter lady. 'I
do not,' says th' arnychist, 'but be th' look iv him he ain't much.'
'That's th' king,' says th' lady. 'Th' king, is it,' says th' arnychist.
'Thin here's f'r wan king less,' he says, an' 'tis all over. A king
ought to be a king or he oughtn't. He don't need to be a good mixer. If
he wants to hang on he must keep out iv range. 'Tis th' kings an' queens
that thrusts so much in th' lilety iv their people that they live in
summer resort hotels an' go out walkin' with a dog that's hurted. Th'
on'y person that ought to be able to get near enough a rale king to kill
him is a jook, or th' likes iv that. Th' idee iv a man from Noo Jarsey
havin' th' chanst!"


"What on earth's to be done about thim arnychists?" Mr. Hennessy asked.
"What ails thim annyhow? What do they want?"

"Th' Lord on'y knows," said Mr. Dooley.

"They don't want annything, that's what they want. They want peace on
earth an' th' way they propose to get it is be murdhrin' ivry man that
don't agree with thim. They think we all shud do as they please. They're
down on th' polis foorce an' in favor iv th' pop'lace, an' whin they've
kilt a king they call on th' polis to save thim fr'm th' mob. An'
between you an' me, Hinnissy, ivry arnychist I've knowed, an' I've met
manny in me time, an' quite, law-abidin' citizens they was, too, had th'
makin' iv a thradeejan in him. If they was no newspapers they'd be few
arnychists. They want to get their pitchers in th' pa-apers an' they
can't do it be wheelin' bananas through th' sthreets or milkin' a cow,
so they go out an' kill a king. I used to know a man be th' name iv
Schmitt that was a cobbler be profession an' lived next dure but wan to
me. He was th' dacintist man ye iver see. He kep' a canary bur-rd, an'
his devotion to his wife was th' scandal iv th' neighborhood. But bless
my soul, how he hated kings. He cudden't abide Cassidy afther he heerd
he was a dayscinded fr'm th' kings iv Connock, though Cassidy was what
ye call a prolotoorio or a talkin' workin'man. An' th' wan king he hated
above all others was th' king iv Scholizwig-Holstein, which was th'
barbarous counthry he come fr'm. He cud talk fairly dacint about other
kings, but this wan--Ludwig was his name an' I seen his pitcher in th'
pa-apers wanst--wud throw him into a fit. He blamed ivrything that
happened to Ludwig. If they was a sthrike he charged it to Ludwig. If
Schwartzmeister didn't pay him f'r half-solin' a pair iv Congress
gaiters he used to wear in thim days, he tied a sthring arround his
finger f'r to remind him that he had to kill Ludwig. 'What have ye
again' th' king?' says I. 'He is an opprissor iv th' poor,' he says. 'So
ar-re ye,' I says, 'or ye'd mend boots free.' 'He's explodin' th'
prolotoorio,' he says. 'Sure,' says I, 'th' prolotoorio can explode
thimsilves pretty well,' says I. 'He oughtn't to be allowed to live in
luxury while others starve,' he says. 'An' wud ye be killin' a man f'r
holdin' a nice job?' says I. 'What good wud it do ye?' says I. 'I'd be
th' emancipator iv th' people,' says he. 'Ye'd have th' wurred on th'
coffin lid,' says I. 'Why,' says he, 'think iv me, Schmitt, Owgoost
Schmitt, stalkin' forth to avinge th' woes iv th' poor,' he says.
'Loodwig, th' cursed, goes by. I jumps fr'm behind a three an' society
is freed fr'm th' monsther,' he says. 'Think iv th' glory iv it,' he
says. 'Owgoost Schmitt, emancipator,' he says. 'I'll prove to Mary Ann
that I'm a man,' he says. Mary Ann was his wife. Her maiden name was
Riley. She heard him say it. 'Gus,' says she, 'if iver I hear iv ye
shootin' e'er a king I'll lave ye,' she says."

"Well, sir, I thought he was jokin', but be hivins, wan day he
disappeared, an' lo an' behold, two weeks afther I picks up a pa-aper
an' r-reads that me brave Schmitt was took up be th' polis f'r thryin'
to cop a monarch fr'm behind a three. I sint him a copy iv a pa-aper
with his pitcher in it, but I don't know if iver he got it. He's over
there now an' his wife is takin' in washin'."

"It's vanity that makes arnychists, Hinnissy--vanity an' th' habits
kings has nowadays iv bein' as common as life insurance agents."

"I don't like kings," said Mr. Hennessy, "but I like arnychists less.
They ought to be kilt off as fast as they're caught."

"They'll be that," said Mr. Dooley. "But killin' thim is like wringin'
th' neck iv a mickrobe."


"Hinnissy, if iver we have war with what me frind Carl Schurz'd call th'
Mother County, it'll not come fr'm anny Vinnyzwalan question. Ye can't
get me excited over th' throbbin' debate on th' location iv th' Orynocoo
River or whether th' miners that go to Alaska f'r goold ar're buried be
th' Canajeen or th' American authorities. Ye bet ye can't. But some day
we'll be beat in a yacht r-race or done up at futball an' thin what
Hogan call th' dogs iv war'll break out iv th' kennel an' divastate th'

"Well," said Mr. Hennessy, complacently, "if we wait f'r that we might
as well disband our navy."

"I dinnaw about that," said Mr. Dooley, "I dinnaw abut that; afther ye
left to investigate th' ir'n foundhries an' other pitcheresque roons iv
this misguided counthry, I wint out to give a few raw rahs f'r me fellow
colleejens, who was attimptin' to dimonsthrate their supeeryority over
th' effete scholars iv England at what I see be th' pa-apers is called
th' Olympian games. Ye get to th' Olympian games be suffocation in a
tunnel. Whin ye come to, ye pay four shillin's or a dollar in our
degraded currency, an' stand in th' sun an' look at th' Prince iv Wales.
Th' Prince iv Wales looks at ye, too, but he don't see ye."

"Me frind, th' American ambassadure was there, an' manny iv th' seats iv
larnin' in th' gran' stand was occupied be th' flower iv our seminaries
iv meditation or thought conservatories. I r-read it in th' pa-apers. At
th' time I come in they was recitin' a pome fr'm th' Greek, to a
thoughtful-lookin' young profissor wearin' th' star-spangled banner f'r
a necktie an' smokin' a cigareet. 'Now, boys,' says th' profissor, 'all
together.' 'Rickety, co-ex, co-ex, hullabaloo, bozoo, bozoo, Harvard,'
says th' lads. I was that proud iv me belovid counthry that I wanted to
take off me hat there an' thin an' give th' colledge yell iv th' Ar-
rchey road reform school. But I was resthrained be a frind iv mine that
I met comin' over. He was fr'm Matsachoosetts, an' says he: 'Don't make
a disturbance,' he says. 'We've got to create a fav'rable impression
here,' he says, 'Th' English,' he says, 'niver shows enthusyasm,' he
says. 'Tis regarded as unpolite,' he says. 'If ye yell,' he says,
'they'll think we want to win,' he says, 'an' we didn't come over here
to win,' he says. 'Let us show thim,' he says, 'that we're gintlemen, be
it iver so painful,' he says. An' I resthrained mesilf be puttin' me
fist in me mouth."


"They was an Englishman standin' behind me, Hinnissy, an' he was a model
iv behaviour f'r all Americans intindin' to take up their homes in
Cubia. Ye cudden't get this la-ad war-rmed up if ye built a fire undher
him. He had an eye-glass pinned to his face an' he niver even smiled
whin a young gintleman fr'm Harvard threw a sledge hammer wan mile, two
inches. A fine la-ad, that Harvard man, but if throwin' th' hammer's
spoort, thin th' rowlin' mills is th' athletic cintre iv our belovid
counthry. Whin an Englishman jumped further thin another la-ad, me frind
th' Ice-box, says he: 'H'yah, h'yah!' So whin an American la-ad lept up
in th' air as though he'd been caught be th' anchor iv a baloon, I says:
'H'yah, h'yah!' too. Whin a sign iv th' effete aristocracy iv England
done up sivral free-bor-rn Americans fr'm Boston in a fut r-race, me
frind the Farthest North, he grabs his wan glass eye an' says he: 'Well
r-run, Cambridge!' he says; 'Well r-run,' he says. An' 'Well r-run,
whativer colledge ye're fr'm,' says I, whin wan iv our la-ads jumped
over a fence ahead iv some eager but consarvative English scholars."

"Well, like a good game, it come three an' three. Three times had
victhry perched upon our banner an' thrice--I see it in th' pa-aper--had
th' flag iv th' mother counthry proclaimed that Englishmen can r-run. It
was thryin' on me narves an' I wanted to yell whin th' tie was r-run off
but th' man fr'm Matsachoosetts says: 'Contain ye'ersilf,' he says.
'Don't allow ye'er frinzied American spirit to get away with ye'er
manners,' he says. 'Obsarve.' he says, 'th' ca'm with which our brother
Anglo-Saxon views th' scene,' he says. 'Ah!' he says, 'they're off an'
be th' jumpin' George Wash'nton, I bet ye that fellow fr'm West
Newton'll make that red-headed, long-legged, bread-ballasted Englishman
look like thirty cints. 'Hurroo,' he says. 'Go on, Harvard,' he says.
'Go on,' he says. 'Rah, rah, rah,' he says. 'Ate him up, chew him up,'
he says. 'Harvard!' he says."

"I looked ar-round at th' ca'm dispassyonate Englishman. He dhropped his
eye-glass so he cud see th' race an' he had his cane in th' air. 'Well
r-run,' he says. 'Well r-run, Cambridge,' he says. 'Pull him down,' he
says. 'Run over him,' he says. 'Thrip him up,' he says. 'They can't r-
run,' he says, 'except whin they're Ph'lipinos behind thim,' he says.
'Well r-run,' he says, an' he welted th' man fr'm Matsachoosetts with
his cane. 'Be careful what ye're doin' there,' says th' Anglo-Saxon. 'If
it wasn't f'r th' 'liance I'd punch ye'er head off,' he says. 'An','
says th' ca'm Englishman, 'if it wasn't f'r our common hurtage,' he
says, 'I'd make ye jump over th' gran' stand,' he says. 'Th' English
always cud beat us r-runnin',' says the sage iv Matsachoosetts. 'Th'
Americans start first an' finishes last,' says th' Englishman. An' I had
to pull thim apart."

"Whether it is that our American colleejans spinds too much iv their
lung power in provin' their devotion to what Hogan calls their Almy
Matthers or not, I dinnaw, but annyhow, we had to dhrag th'
riprisintative iv our branch iv th' Anglo-Saxon an' Boheemyan
civilization in th' three-mile race fr'm undher two thousand iv our
cousins or brothers-in-law that was ca'mly an' soberly, but hurridly an'
noisily chargin' acrost th' thrack to cheer their own man."

"Me frind fr'm Matsachoosets was blue as we winded our way to th'
sthrangulation railway an' started back f'r home. 'I'm sorry,' he says,
'to lose me timper,' he says, 'but,' he says, 'afther all th' pretinded
affection iv these people f'r us,' he says, 'an' afther all we've done
f'r thim in Alaska an'--an' ivrywhere,' he says, 'an' thim sellin' us
coal whin they might've sold it to th' Spanyards if th' Spanyards'd had
th' money,' he says, 'to see th' conduct iv that coarse an' brutal
Englishman--' 'Th' wan that won th' r-race?' says I. 'Yes,' he says.
'No, I mean th' wan that lammed me with his cane,' he says. 'If it
hadn't been,' he says, 'that we're united,' he says, 'be a common
pathrimony,' he says, 'I'd've had his life,' he says. 'Ye wud so,' says
I, 'an' ye're r-right,' I says. 'If all th' la-ads enthered into th' r-
races with th' same spirit ye show now,' I says, 'th' English flag'd be
dhroopin' fr'm th' staff, an' Cyrus Bodley iv Wadham, Mass.,'d be
paintin' th' stars an' sthripes on th' Nelson monnymint,' I says. 'Whin
we hated th' English,' I says, 'an' a yacht r-race was li'ble to end in
a war message fr'm the prisidint, we used to bate thim,' I says. 'Now,'
says I, 'whin we're afraid to injure their feelin's,' I says, 'an' whin
we 'pologise befure we punch, they bate us,' I says. 'They're used to
'pologisin' with wan hand an' punchin' with th' other,' I says. 'Th'
on'y way is th' way iv me cousin Mike,' I says. 'He was a gr-reat
rassler an' whin he had a full Nelson on th' foolish man that wint again
him, he used to say, 'Dear me, am I breakin' ye'er neck, I hope so.'"

"But th' Matsachoosetts man didn't see it that way. An' some time, I
tell ye, Hinnissy, an' Englishman'll put th' shot wan fut further than
wan iv our men th' Lord save us fr'm th' disgrace!--an' th' next day
we'll invade Canada."

"We ought to do it, annyhow," said Mr. Hennessy stoutly.

"We wud," said Mr. Dooley, "if we were sure we cud lave it aftherwards."


"I don't think," said Mr. Dooley, "that me frind Willum Jennings Bryan
is as good an orator as he was four years ago."

"He's th' grandest talker that's lived since Dan'l O'Connell," said Mr.

"Ye've heerd thim all an' ye know," said Mr. Dooley. "But I tell ye he's
gone back. D'ye mind th' time we wint down to th' Coleesyum an' he come
out in a black alapaca coat an' pushed into th' air th' finest wurruds
ye iver heerd spoke in all ye'er bor-rn days? 'Twas a balloon ascinsion
an' th' las' days iv Pompey an' a blast on th' canal all in wan. I had
to hold on to me chair to keep fr'm goin' up in th' air, an' I mind that
if it hadn't been f'r a crack on th' head ye got fr'm a dillygate fr'm
Westconsin ye'd 've been in th' hair iv Gin'ral Bragg. Dear me, will ye
iver f'rget it, th' way he pumped it into th' pluthocrats? 'I tell ye
here an' now,' he says, 'they'se as good business men in th' quite
counthry graveyards iv Kansas as ye can find in the palathial lunch-
counthers iv Wall street,' he says. 'Whin I see th' face iv that man who
looks like a two-dollar pitcher iv Napolyeon at Saint Heleena,' he says,
'I say to mesilf, ye shall not--ye shall not'--what th' divvle is it ye
shall not do, Hinnissy?"

"Ye shall not crucify mankind upon a crown iv thorns," said Mr.

"Right ye ar-re, I forgot," Mr. Dooley went on. "Well, thim were his own
wurruds. He was young an' he wanted something an' he spoke up. He'd been
a rayporther on a newspaper an' he'd rather be prisidint thin write anny
longer f'r th' pa-aper, an' he made th' whole iv th' piece out iv his
own head.

"But nowadays he has tin wurruds f'r Thomas Jefferson an' th' rest iv
th' sage crop to wan f'r himsilf. 'Fellow-dimmycrats,' he says, 'befure
goin' anny farther, an' maybe farin' worse, I reluctantly accipt th'
nommynation f'r prisidint that I have caused ye to offer me,' he says,
'an' good luck to me,' he says. 'Seein' th' counthry in th' condition it
is,' he says, 'I cannot rayfuse,' he says. 'I will now lave a subject
that must be disagreeable to manny iv ye an' speak a few wurruds fr'm
th' fathers iv th' party, iv whom there ar-re manny,' he says, 'though
no shame to th' party, f'r all iv that,' he says. 'Thomas Jefferson, th'
sage iv Monticello, says: "Ye can't make a silk purse out iv a sow's
ear," a remark that will at wanst recall th' sayin' iv Binjamin
Franklin, th' sage iv Camden, that "th' fartherest way ar-round is th'
shortest way acrost." Nawthin' cud be thruer thin that onliss it is th'
ipygram iv Andhrew Jackson, th' sage iv Syr-acuse, that "a bur-rd in th'
hand is worth two in th' bush." What gran' wurruds thim ar-re, an' how
they must torture th' prisint leaders iv th' raypublican party. Sam'l
Adams, th' sage iv Salem, says: "Laugh an' the wurruld laughs with ye,"
while Pathrick Hinnery, th' sage iv Jarsey City, puts it that "ye shud
always bet aces befure th' dhraw." Turnin' farther back into histhry we
find that Brian Boru, th' sage iv Munsther, said: "Cead mille failthe,"
an' Joolyus Caesar, th' sage iv Waukeesha, says, "Whin ye're in Rome, do
th' Romans." Nebuchedneezar--there's a name f'r ye--th' sage iv I-
dinnaw-where, says: "Ye can't ate ye'er hay an' have it." Solomon, th'
sage iv Sageville, said, "Whin a man's marrid his throubles begins," an'
Adam, th' sage iv Eden, put it that "A snake in th' grass is worth two
in th' boots." Ye'll see be this, me good an' thrue frinds, that th'
voices fr'm th' tombs is united in wan gran' chorus f'r th' ticket ye
have nommynated. I will say no more, but on a future occasion, whin I've
been down in southern Injyanny, I'll tell ye what th' sages an' fathers
iv th' party in th' Ancient an' Hon'rable Association iv Mound-Builders
had to say about th' prisint crisis.'"

"'Tisn't Bryan alone, Mack's th' same way. They're both ancesther
worshippers, like th' Chinese, Hinnissy. An' what I'd like to know is
what Thomas Jefferson knew about th' throubles iv ye an' me? Divvle a
wurrud have I to say again' Thomas. He was a good man in his day, though
I don't know that his battin' av'rage 'd be high again' th' pitchin' iv
these times. I have a gr-reat rayspict f'r the sages an' I believe in
namin' sthreets an' public schools afther thim. But suppose Thomas
Jefferson was to come back here now an' say to himsilf: 'They'se a good
dimmycrat up in Ar-rchy road an' I think I'll dhrop in on him an' talk
over th' issues iv th' day.' Well, maybe he cud r-ride his old gray mare
up an' not be kilt be the throlley cars, an' maybe th' la-ads'd think he
was crazy an' not murdher him f'r his clothes. An' maybe they wudden't.
But annyhow, suppose he got here, an' afther he'd fumbled ar-round at
th' latch--f'r they had sthrings on th' dure in thim days--I let him in.
Well, whin I've injooced him to take a bowl iv red liquor--f'r in his
time th' dhrink was white--an' explained how th' seltzer comes out an'
th' cash raygisther wurruks, an' wather is dhrawn fr'm th' fassit, an'
gas is lighted fr'm th' burner, an' got him so he wud not bump his head
again' th' ceilin' ivry time th' beer pump threw a fit--afther that we'd
talk iv the pollytical situation."

"'How does it go?' says Thomas. 'Well,' says I, 'it looks as though
Ioway was sure raypublican,' says I. 'Ioway?' says he. 'What's that?'
says he. 'Ioway,' says I, 'is a state,' says I. 'I niver heerd iv it,'
says he. 'Faith ye did not,' says I. 'But it's a state just th' same,
an' full iv corn an' people,' I says. 'An' why is it raypublican?' says
he. 'Because,' says I, 'th' people out there is f'r holdin' th'
Ph'lippeens,' says I. 'What th' divvle ar-re th' Ph'lippeens?' says he.
'Is it a festival,' says he, 'or a dhrink?' he says. 'Faith, 'tis small
wondher ye don't know,' says I, 'f'r 'tis mesilf was weak on it a year
ago,' I says. 'Th' Ph'lippeens is an issue,' says I, 'an' islands,' says
I, 'an' a public nuisance,' I says. 'But,' I says, 'befure we go anny
further on this subject,' I says, 'd'ye know where Minnysota is, or
Westconsin, or Utah, or Californya, or Texas, or Neebrasky?' says I. 'I
do not,' says he. 'D'ye know that since ye'er death there has growed up
on th' shore iv Lake Mitchigan a city that wud make Rome look like a
whistlin' station--a city that has a popylation iv eight million people
till th' census rayport comes out?' I says. 'I niver heerd iv it,' he
says. 'D'ye know that I can cross th' ocean in six days, an' won't; that
if annything doesn't happen in Chiny I can larn about it in twinty-four
hours if I care to know; that if ye was in Wash'nton I cud call ye up be
tillyphone an ye'er wire'd be busy?' I says. 'I do not,' says Thomas
Jefferson. 'Thin,' says I, 'don't presume to advise me,' I says, 'that
knows these things an' manny more,' I says. 'An' whin ye go back where
ye come fr'm an' set down with th' rest iv th' sages to wondher whether
a man cud possibly go fr'm Richmond to Boston in a week, tell thim,' I
says, 'that in their day they r-run a corner grocery an' to-day,' says
I, 'we're op'ratin' a sixteen-story department store an' puttin' in
ivrything fr'm an electhric lightin' plant to a set iv false teeth,' I
says. An' I hist him on his horse an' ask a polisman to show him th' way

"Be hivins, Hinnissy, I want me advice up-to-date, an' whin Mack an'
Willum Jennings tells me what George Wash'nton an' Thomas Jefferson
said, I says to thim: 'Gintlemen, they larned their thrade befure th'
days iv open plumbin',' I says. 'Tell us what is wanted ye'ersilf or
call in a journeyman who's wurrukin' card is dated this cinchry,' I
says. 'An' I'm r-right too, Hinnissy.'"

"Well," said Mr. Hennessy, slowly, "those ol' la-ads was level-headed."

"Thrue f'r ye," said Mr. Dooley. "But undher th' new iliction laws ye
can't vote th' cimitries."


"What's goin' to happen to th' naygur?" asked Mr. Hennessy.

"Well," said Mr. Dooley, "he'll ayther have to go to th' north an' be a
subjick race, or stay in th' south an' be an objick lesson. 'Tis a har-
rd time he'll have, annyhow. I'm not sure that I'd not as lave be gently
lynched in Mississippi as baten to death in New York. If I was a black
man, I'd choose th' cotton belt in prifrince to th' belt on th' neck
fr'm th' polisman's club. I wud so."

"I'm not so much throubled about th' naygur whin he lives among his
opprissors as I am whin he falls into th' hands iv his liberators. Whin
he's in th' south he can make up his mind to be lynched soon or late an'
give his attintion to his other pleasures iv composin' rag-time music on
a banjo, an' wurrukin' f'r th' man that used to own him an' now on'y
owes him his wages. But 'tis th' divvle's own hardship f'r a coon to
step out iv th' rooms iv th' S'ciety f'r th' Brotherhood iv Ma-an where
he's been r-readin' a pome on th' 'Future of th' Moke' an' be pursooed
be a mob iv abolitionists till he's dhriven to seek polis protection,
which, Hinnissy, is th' polite name f'r fracture iv th' skull.

"I was f'r sthrikin' off th' shackles iv th' slave, me la-ad. 'Twas
thrue I didn't vote f'r it, bein' that I heerd Stephen A. Douglas say
'twas onconstitootional, an' in thim days I wud go to th' flure with
anny man f'r th' constitootion. I'm still with it, but not sthrong. It's
movin' too fast f'r me. But no matther. Annyhow I was f'r makin' th'
black man free, an' though I shtud be th' south as a spoortin'
proposition I was kind iv glad in me heart whin Gin'ral Ulyss S. Grant
bate Gin'ral Lee an' th' rest iv th' Union officers captured Jeff Davis.
I says to mesilf, 'Now,' I says,'th' coon'll have a chanst f'r his
life,' says I, 'an' in due time we may injye him,' I says.

"An' sure enough it looked good f'r awhile, an' th' time come whin th'
occas'nal dollar bill that wint acrost this bar on pay night wasn't good
money onless it had th' name iv th' naygur on it. In thim days they was
a young la-ad--a frind iv wan iv th' Donohue boys--that wint to th'
public school up beyant, an' he was as bright a la-ad as ye'd want to
see in a day's walk. Th' larnin' iv him wud sind Father Kelly back to
his grammar. He cud spell to make a hare iv th' hedge schoolmasther, he
was as quick at figures as th' iddycated pig they showed in th' tint
las' week in Haley's vacant lot, and in joggerphy, asthronomy,
algybbera, jommethry, chimisthry, physiojnomy, bassoophly an' fractions,
I was often har-rd put mesilf to puzzle him. I heerd him gradyooate an'
his composition was so fine very few cud make out what he meant.

"I met him on th' sthreet wan day afther he got out iv school. 'What ar-
re ye goin' to do f'r ye'ersilf, Snowball,' says I--his name was Andhrew
Jackson George Wash'n'ton Americus Caslateras Beresford Vanilla Hicks,
but I called him 'Snowball,' him bein' as black as coal, d'ye see--I
says to him: 'What ar-re ye goin' to do f'r ye'ersilf?' I says. 'I'm
goin' to enther th' profission iv law,' he says, 'where be me acooman
an' industhry I hope,' he says, 'f'r to rise to be a judge,' he says, 'a
congrissman,' he says, 'a sinator,' he says, 'an' p'rhaps,' he says, 'a
prisidint iv th' United States,' he says. 'Theyse nawthin to prevint,'
he says. 'Divvle a thing,' says I. 'Whin we made ye free,' says I, 'we
opened up all these opporchunities to ye,' says I. 'Go on,' says I, 'an'
enjye th' wealth an' position conferred on ye be th' constitootion,' I
says. 'On'y,' I says, 'don't be too free,' I says. 'Th' freedom iv th'
likes iv ye is a good thing an' a little iv it goes a long way,' I says,
'an' if I ever hear iv ye bein' prisidint iv th' United States,' I says,
'I'll take me whitewashing' away fr'm ye'er father, ye excelsior hair,
poached-egg eyed, projiny iv tar,' I says, f'r me Anglo-Saxon feelin'
was sthrong in thim days.

"Well, I used to hear iv him afther that defindin' coons in th' polis
coort, an' now an' thin bein' mintioned among th' scatthrin' in
raypublican county con-vintions, an' thin he dhropped out iv sight.
'Twas years befure I see him again. Wan day I was walkin' up th' levee
smokin' a good tin cint seegar whin a coon wearin' a suit iv clothes
that looked like a stained glass window in th' house iv a Dutch brewer
an' a pop bottle in th' fr-ront iv his shirt, steps up to me an' he
says: 'How dy'e do, Mistah Dooley,' says he. 'Don't ye know me--Mistah
Hicks?' he says. 'Snowball,' says I. 'Step inside this dureway,' says I,
'less Clancy, th' polisman on th' corner, takes me f'r an octoroon,' I
says. 'What ar-re ye do-in'?' says I. 'How did ye enjye th' prisidincy?'
says I. He laughed an' told me th' story iv his life. He wint to
practisin' law an' found his on'y clients was coons, an' they had no
assets but their vote at th' prim'ry. Besides a warrant f'r a moke was
the same as a letther iv inthroduction to th' warden iv th' pinitinchry.
Th' on'y thing left f'r th' lawyer to do was to move f'r a new thrile
an' afther he'd got two or three he thought ol' things was th' best an'
ye do well to lave bad enough alone. He got so sick iv chicken he
cudden't live on his fees an' he quit th' law an' wint into journalism.
He r-run 'Th' Colored Supplimint,' but it was a failure, th' taste iv
th' public lanin' more to quadhroon publications, an' no man that owned
a resthrant or theaytre or dhrygoods store'd put in an adver-tisemint
f'r fear th' subscribers'd see it an' come ar-round. Thin he attimpted
to go into pollytics, an' th' best he cud get was carryin' a bucket iv
wather f'r a Lincoln Club. He thried to larn a thrade an' found th' on'y
place a naygur can larn a thrade is in prison an' he can't wurruk at
that without committin' burglary. He started to take up subscriptions
f'r a sthrugglin' church an' found th' profission was overcrowded.
'Fin'ly,' says he, ''twas up to me to be a porther in a saloon or go
into th' on'y business,' he says, 'in which me race has a chanst,' he
says. 'What's that?' says I. 'Craps,' says he. 'I've opened a palachal
imporyium,' he says, 'where,' he says, ''twud please me very much,' he
says, 'me ol' abolitionist frind,' he says, 'if ye'd dhrop in some day,'
he says, 'an' I'll roll th' sweet, white bones f'r ye,' he says. ''Tis
th' hope iv me people,' he says. 'We have an even chanst at ivry other
pursoot,' he says, 'but 'tis on'y in craps we have a shade th' best iv
it,' he says."

"So there ye ar-re, Hinnissy. An' what's it goin' to come to, says ye?
Faith, I don't know an' th' naygurs don't know, an' be hivins, I think
if th' lady that wrote th' piece we used to see at th' Halsted Sthreet
Opry House come back to earth, she wudden't know. I used to be all broke
up about Uncle Tom, but cud I give him a job tindin' bar in this here
liquor store? I freed th' slave, Hinnissy, but, faith, I think' twas
like tur-rnin' him out iv a panthry into a cellar."

"Well, they got to take their chances," said Mr. Hennessy. "Ye can't do
annything more f'r thim than make thim free."

"Ye can't," said Mr. Dooley; "on'y whin ye tell thim they're free they
know we're on'y sthringin' thim."


"I've niver been much iv a hand f'r th' theaytre," said Mr. Dooley.
"Whin I was a young man an' Crosby's Opry house was r-runnin' I used to
go down wanst in a while an' see Jawn Dillon throwin' things around f'r
th' amusemint iv th' popylace an' whin Shakespere was played I often had
a seat in th' gal'ry, not because I liked th' actin', d'ye mind, but
because I'd heerd me frind Hogan speak iv Shakespere. He was a good man,
that Shakespere, but his pieces is full iv th' ol' gags that I heerd
whin I was a boy. Th' throuble with me about goin' to plays is that no
matther where I set I cud see some hired man in his shirt sleeves
argyin' with wan iv his frinds about a dog fight while Romeo was makin'
th' kind iv love ye wuddent want ye'er daughter to hear to Juliet in th'
little bur-rd cage they calls a balcony. It must've been because I wanst
knowed a man be th' name iv Gallagher that was a scene painter that I
cud niver get mesilf to th' pint iv concedin' that th' mountains that
other people agreed was manny miles in th' distance was in no danger iv
bein' rubbed off th' map be th' coat-tails iv wan iv th' principal char-
ackters. An' I always had me watch out to time th' moon whin' twas
shoved acrost th' sky an' th' record breakin' iv day in th' robbers'
cave where th' robbers don't dare f'r to shtep on the rock f'r fear
they'll stave it in. If day iver broke on th' level th' way it does on
th' stage 'twud tear th' bastin' threads out iv what Hogan calls th'
firmymint. Hogan says I haven't got th' dhramatic delusion an' he must
be r-right f'r ye can't make me believe that twinty years has elapsed
whin I know that I've on'y had time to pass th' time iv day with th'
bartinder nex' dure.

"Plays is upside down, Hinnissy, an' inside out. They begin with a full
statement iv what's goin' to happen an' how it's goin' to come out an'
thin ye're asked to forget what ye heerd an' be surprised be th'
outcome. I always feel like goin' to th' office an' gettin' me money or
me lithograph pass back afther th' first act.

"Th' way to write a play is f'r to take a book an' write it over hindend
foremost. They're puttin' all books on th' stage nowadays. Fox's 'Book
iv Martyrs' has been done into a three-act farce-comedy an'll be
projooced be Delia Fox, th' author, nex' summer. Webster's 'Onabridge
Ditchnry' will be brought out as a society dhrama with eight hundherd
thousan' char-ackters. Th' 'Constitution iv th' United States' (a farce)
be Willum McKinley is r-runnin' to packed houses with th' cillybrated
thradeejan Aggynaldoo as th' villain. In th' sixteenth scene iv th' last
act they'se a naygur lynchin'. James H. Wilson, th' author iv 'Silo an'
Ensilage, a story f'r boys,' is dhramatizin' his cillybrated wurruk an'
will follow it with a dhramatic version iv 'Sugar Beet Culture,' a farm
play. 'Th' Familiar Lies iv Li Hung Chang' is expicted to do well in th'
provinces an' Hostetter's Almanac has all dates filled, I undherstand
th' bible'll be r-ready f'r th' stage undher th'direction iv Einstein
an' Opperman befure th' first iv th' year. Some changes has been
niciss'ry f'r to adapt it to stage purposes, I see be th' pa-apers. Th'
authors has become convinced that Adam an' Eve must be carrid through
th' whole play, so they have considerably lessened th' time between th'
creation an' th' flood an' have made Adam an English nobleman with a
shady past an' th' Divvle a Fr-rinch count in love with Eve. They're
rescued be Noah, th' faithful boatman who has a comic naygur son."

"I see be th' pa-aper th' stage is goin' to th' dogs what with it's
Sappho's an' th' like iv that," said Mr. Hennessy.

"Well, it isn't what it used to be," said Mr. Dooley, "in th' days whin
'twas th' purpose iv th' hero to save th' honest girl from the clutches
iv th' villin in time to go out with him an' have a shell iv beer at th'
Dutchman's downstairs. In th' plays nowadays th' hero is more iv a
villain thin th' villain himsilf. He's th' sort iv a man that we used to
heave pavin' shtones at whin he come out iv th' stage dure iv th'
Halsted Sthreet Opry House. To be a hero ye've first got to be an
Englishman, an' as if that wasn't bad enough ye've got to have committed
as many crimes as th' late H. H. Holmes. If he'd been born in England
he'd be a hero. Ye marry a woman who swears an' dhrinks an' bets on th'
races an' ye quarrel with her. Th' r-rest iv th' play is made up iv hard
cracks be all th' char-ack-ters at each others' morals. This is called
repartee be th' learned, an' Hogan. Repartee is where I say: 'Ye stole a
horse' an' ye say: 'But think iv ye'er wife!' In Ar-rchy r-road 'tis
called disordherly conduct. They'se another play on where a man r-runs
off with a woman that's no betther thin she ought to be. He bates her
an' she marries a burglar. Another wan is about a lady that ates dinner
with a German. He bites her an' she hits him with a cabbage. Thin
they'se a play about an English gintleman iv th' old school who thries
to make a girl write a letter f'r him an' if she don't he'll tell on
her. He doesn't tell an' so he's rewarded with th' love iv th' heroine,
an honest English girl out f'r th' money."

"Nobody's marrid in th' modhern play, Hinnissy, an' that's a good thing,
too, f'r annywan that got marrid wud have th' worst iv it. In th' ol'
times th' la-ads that announces what's goin' to happen in the first act,
always promised ye a happy marredge in th' end an' as ivrybody's lookin'
f'r a happy marredge, that held the aujeence. Now ye know that th' hero
with th' wretched past is goin' to elope with th' dhrunken lady an' th'
play is goin' to end with th' couples prettily divorced in th' centher
iv th' stage. 'Tis called real life an' mebbe that's what it is, but f'r
me I don't want to see real life on th' stage. I can see that anny day.
What I want is f'r th' spotless gintleman to saw th' la-ad with th'
cigareet into two-be-fours an' marry th' lady that doesn't dhrink much
while th' aujeence is puttin' on their coats."

"Why don't they play Shakespere any more?" Mr. Hennessy asked.

"I undherstand," said Mr. Dooley, "that they're goin' to dhramatize
Shakespere whin th' dhramatizer gets through with th' 'Report iv th'
Cinsus Department f'r 1899-1900.'"


"I wisht th' campaign was over," said Mr. Dooley.

"I wisht it'd begin," said Mr. Hennessy. "I niver knew annything so
dead. They ain't been so much as a black eye give or took in th' ward
an' its less thin two months to th' big day."

"'Twill liven up," said Mr. Dooley, "I begin to see signs iv th' good
times comin' again. 'Twas on'y th' other day me frind Tiddy Rosenfelt
opened th' battle mildly be insinuatin' that all dimmycrats was liars,
horse thieves an' arnychists. 'Tis thrue he apologized f'r that be
explainin' that he didn't mean all dimmycrats but on'y those that
wudden't vote f'r Mack but I think he'll take th' copper off befure
manny weeks. A ladin' dimmycratic rayformer has suggested that Mack
though a good man f'r an idjiot is surrounded be th' vilest scoundhrels
iver seen in public life since th' days iv Joolyus Caesar. Th' Sicrety
iv th' Threeasury has declared, that Mr. Bryan in sayin' that silver is
not convartible be th' terms iv th' Slatthry bankin' law iv 1870, an'
th' sicond clause iv th' threaty iv Gansville, has committed th'
onpard'nable pollytical sin iv so consthructin' th' facts as to open up
th' possibility iv wan not knowin' th' thrue position iv affairs,
misundhersthandin' intirely. If he had him outside he'd call him a liar.
Th' raypublicans have proved that Willum Jennings Bryan is a thraitor be
th' letther written be Dr. Lem Stoggins, th' cillybrated antithought
agytator iv Spooten Duyvil to Aggynaldoo in which he calls upon him to
do nawthin' till he hears fr'm th' doc. Th' letther was sint through th'
postal authorities an' as they have established no post-office in
Aggynaldoo's hat they cudden't deliver it an' they opened it. Upon r-
readin' th' letther Horace Plog iv White Horse, Minnesota, has wrote to
Willum Jennings Bryan declarin' that if he (Plog) iver went to th'
Ph'lippeens, which he wud've done but f'r th' way th' oats was sproutin'
in th' stack, an' had been hit with a bullet he'd ixpict th' Coroner to
hold Bryan to th' gran' jury. This was followed be th' publication iv a
letther fr'm Oscar L. Swub iv East Persepalis, Ohio, declarin' that his
sister heerd a cousin iv th' man that wash'd buggies in a livery stable
in Canton say Mack's hired man tol' him Mack'd be hanged befure he'd
withdraw th' ar-rmy fr'm Cuba."

"Oh, I guess th' campaign is doin' as well as cud be ixpicted. I see be
th' raypublican pa-apers that Andhrew Carnegie has come out f'r Bryan
an' has conthributed wan half iv his income or five hundhred millyon
dollars to th' campaign fund. In th' dimmycratic pa-apers I r-read that
Chairman Jim Jones has inthercipted a letther fr'm the Prince iv Wales
to Mack congratulatin' him on his appintmint as gintleman-in-waitin' to
th' queen. A dillygation iv Mormons has started fr'm dimmycratic
headquarthers to thank Mack f'r his manly stand in favor iv poly-gamy
an' th' raypublican comity has undher con-sideration a letther fr'm long
term criminals advisin' their colleagues at large to vote f'r Willum
Jennings Bryan, th' frind iv crime."

"In a few short weeks, Hinnissy, 'twill not be safe f'r ayether iv
the candydates to come out on th' fr-ront porch till th' waitin'
dillygations has been searched be a polisman. 'Tis th' divvle's own time
th' la-ads that r-runs f'r th' prisidincy has since that ol' boy
Burchard broke loose again' James G. Blaine. Sinitor Jones calls wan iv
his thrusty hinchman to his side, an' says he: 'Mike, put on a pig-tail,
an' a blue shirt an' take a dillygation iv Chinnymen out to Canton an'
congratulate Mack on th' murdher iv mission'ries in China. An',' he
says, 'ye might stop off at Cincinnati on th' way over an' arrange f'r a
McKinley an' Rosenfelt club to ilict th' British Consul its prisidint
an' attack th' office iv th' German newspaper,' he says. Mark Hanna
rings f'r his sicrety an', says he: 'Have ye got off th' letther fr'm
George Fred Willums advisin' Aggynaldoo to pizen th' wells?' 'Yes sir.'
'An' th' secret communication fr'm Bryan found on an arnychist at
Pattherson askin' him to blow up th' White House?' 'It's in th' hands iv
th' tyepwriter.' 'Thin call up an employmint agency an' have a
dillygation iv Jesuites dhrop in at Lincoln, with a message fr'm th'
pope proposin' to bur-rn all Protestant churches th' night befure

"I tell ye, Hinnissy, th' candydate is kept mov-in'. Whin he sees a
dilly-gation pikin' up th' lawn he must be r-ready. He makes a flyin'
leap f'r th' chairman, seizes him by th' throat an' says: 'I thank ye
f'r th' kind sintimints ye have conveyed. I am, indeed, as ye have
remarked, th' riprisintative iv th' party iv manhood, honor, courage,
liberality an' American thraditions. Take that back to Jimmy Jones an'
tell him to put it in his pipe an' smoke it.' With which he bounds into
th' house an' locks the dure while th' baffled conspirators goes down to
a costumer an' changes their disguise. If th' future prisidint hadn't
been quick on th' dhraw he'd been committed to a policy iv sthranglin'
all the girl babies at birth."

"No,'tis no aisy job bein' a candydate, an' 'twud be no easy job if th'
game iv photygraphs was th' on'y wan th' candydates had to play. Willum
Jennings Bryan is photygraphed smilin' back at his smilin' corn fields,
in a pair iv blue overalls with a scythe in his hand borrid fr'm th'
company that's playin' 'Th' Ol' Homestead,' at th' Lincoln Gran' Opry
House. Th' nex' day Mack is seen mendin' a rustic chair with a monkey
wrinch, Bryan has a pitcher took in th' act iv puttin' on a shirt marked
with th' union label, an' they'se another photygraph iv Mack carryin' a
scuttle iv coal up th' cellar stairs. An' did ye iver notice how much
th' candydates looks alike, an' how much both iv thim looks like Lydia
Pinkham? Thim wondherful boardhin'-house smiles that our gifted leaders
wears, did ye iver see annythin' so entrancin'? Whin th' las'
photygrapher has packed his ar-ms homeward I can see th' gr-reat men
retirin' to their rooms an' lettin' their faces down f'r a few minyits
befure puttin' thim up again in curl-pa-apers f'r th' nex' day display.
Glory be, what a relief 'twill be f'r wan iv thim to raysume permanently
th' savage or fam'ly breakfast face th' mornin' afther iliction! What a
raylief 'twill be to no f'r sure that th' man at th' dure bell is on'y
th' gas collector an' isn't loaded with a speech iv thanks in behalf iv
th' Spanish Gover'mint! What a relief to snarl at wife an' frinds wanst
more, to smoke a seegar with th' thrust magnate that owns th' cider
facthry near th' station, to take ye'er nap in th' afthernoon
undisthurbed be th' chirp iv th' snap-shot! 'Tis th' day afther iliction
I'd like f'r to be a candydate, Hinnissy, no matther how it wint."

"An' what's become iv th' vice-prisidintial candydates?" Mr. Hennessy

"Well," said Mr. Dooley, "Th' las' I heerd iv Adly, I didn't hear
annythin', an' th' las' I heerd iv Tiddy he'd made application to th'
naytional comity f'r th' use iv Mack as a soundin' board."


"It's always been a wondher to me," said Mr. Hennessy, "ye niver

"It's been a wondher to manny," Mr. Dooley replied haughtily. "Maybe if
I'd been as aisy pleased as most--an' this is not sayin' annything again
you an' ye'ers, Hinnisy, f'r ye got much th' best iv it--I might be th'
father iv happy childher an' have money in th' bank awaitin' th' day
whin th' intherest on th' morgedge fell due. 'Tis not f'r lack iv
opportunities I'm here alone, I tell ye that me bucko, f'r th' time was
whin th' sound iv me feet'd brings more heads to th' windies iv Ar-rchey
r-road thin'd bob up to see ye'er fun'ral go by. An' that's manny a

"Ah, well," said Mr. Hennessy, "I was but jokin' ye." His tone mollified
his friend, who went on: "To tell ye th' truth, Hinnissy, th' raison I
niver got marrid was I niver cud pick a choice. I've th' makin' iv an
ixcillint ol' Turk in me, to be sure, f'r I look on all the sect as
iligeable f'r me hand an' I'm on'y resthrained fr'm r-rentin' Lincoln
Park f'r a home an' askin' thim all to clave on'y to me, be me nachral
modesty an' th' laws iv th' State iv Illinye. 'Twas always so with me
an' I think it is so with most men that dies bachelors. Be r-readin' th'
pa-apers ye'd think a bachelor was a man bor-rn with a depraved an'
parvarse hathred iv wan iv our most cherished institootions, an' anti-
expansionist d'ye mind. But'tis no such thing. A bachelor's a man that
wud extind his benificint rule over all th' female wurruld, fr'm th'
snow-capped girls iv Alaska to th' sunny eileens iv th' Passyfic. A
marrid man's a person with a limited affection--a protictionist an'
anti-expansionist, a mugwump, be hivins. 'Tis th' bachelor that's
keepin' alive th' rivrince f'r th' sect.

"Whin I was a young man, ye cud search fr'm wan end iv th' town to th'
other f'r me akel with th' ladies. Ye niver see me in them days, but
'twas me had a rogue's eye an' a leg far beyant th' common r-run iv
props. I cud dance with th' best iv thim, me voice was that sthrong
'twas impossible to hear annywan else whin I sung 'Th' Pretty Maid
Milkin' th' Cow,' an' I was dhressed to kill on Sundahs. 'Twas thin I
bought th' hat ye see me wear at th' picnic. 'Twas 'Good mornin',
Misther Dooley, an' will ye come in an' have a cup iv tay,' an' 'How
d'ye do Misther Dooley, I didn't see ye at mass this mornin',' an'
'Martin, me boy, dhrop in an' take a hand at forty-fives. Th' young
ladies has been ask in' me ar-re ye dead.' I was th' pop'lar idol, ye
might say, an' manny's th' black look I got over th' shouldher at picnic
an' wake. But I minded thim little. If a bull again me come fr'm th'
pope himsilf in thim days whin me heart was high, I'd tuck it in me
pocket an' say: 'I'll r-read it whin I get time.'"

"Well, I'd take one iv th' girls out in me horse an' buggy iv a Sundah
an' I'd think she was th' finest in th' wurruld an' I'd be sayin' all
kinds iv jokin' things to her about marredge licenses bein' marked down
on account iv th' poor demand an' how th' parish priest was thinkin' iv
bein' thransferred to a parish where th' folks was more kindly disposed
to each other an' th' likes iv that, whin out iv th' corner iv me eye
I'd see another girl go by, an' bless me if I cud keep th' lid iv me r-
right eye still or hold me tongue fr'm such unfortchnit remark as: 'That
there Molly Heaney's th' fine girl, th' fine, sthrappin' girl, don't ye
think so?' Well, ye know, afther that I might as well be dhrivin' an ice
wagon as a pleasure rig; more thin wanst I near lost th' tip iv me nose
in th' jamb iv th' dure thryin' to give an affictshionate farewell. An'
so it wint on, till I got th' repytation iv a flirt an' a philandhrer
f'r no raison at all, d'ye mind, but me widespread fondness. I like thim
all, dark an' light, large an' small, young an' old, marrid an' single,
widdied an' divorced, an' so I niver marrid annywan. But ye'll find me
photygraft in some albums an' me bills in more thin wan livery stable."

"I think marrid men gets on th' best f'r they have a home an' fam'ly to
lave in th' mornin' an' a home an' fam'ly to go back to at night; that
makes thim wurruk. Some men's domestic throubles dhrives thim to dhrink,
others to labor. Ye r-read about a man becomin' a millyonaire an' ye
think he done it be his own exertions whin 'tis much again little 'twas
th' fear iv comin' home impty handed an' dislike iv stayin' ar-round th'
house all day that made him rich. Misther Standard Ile takes in millyons
in a year but he might be playin' dominoes in an injine house if it
wasn't f'r Mrs. Standard Ile. 'Tis th' thought iv that dear quiet lady
at home, in her white cap with her ca'm motherly face, waitin' patiently
f'r him with a bell-punch that injooces him to put a shtick iv dinnymite
in somebody else's ile well an' bury his securities whin th' assissor
comes ar-round. Near ivry man's property ought to be in wife's name an'
most iv it is.

"But with a bachelor 'tis diff'rent. Ye an' I ar-re settin' here
together an' Clancy dhrops in. Clancy's wife's away an' he's out f'r a
good time an' he comes to me f'r it. A bachelor's f'r th' enjymint of
his marrid frinds' vacations. Whin Clancy's wife's at home an' I go to
see him he r-runs th' pail out in a valise, an' we take our criminal
dhrink in th' woodshed. Well, th' three iv us sits here an' pass th'
dhrink an' sing our songs iv glee till about ilivin o'clock; thin ye
begin to look over ye'er shouldher ivry time ye hear a woman's voice an'
fin'lly ye get up an' yawn an' dhrink ivrything on th' table an' gallop
home. Clancy an' I raysume our argymint on th' Chinese sityation an'
afterwards we carol together me singin' th' chune an' him doin' a razor
edge tinor. Thin he tells me how much he cares f'r me an' proposes to
rassle me an' weeps to think how bad he threats his wife an' begs me
niver to marry, f'r a bachelor's life's th' on'y wan, an' 'tis past two
o'clock whin I hook him on a frindly polisman an' sind him thrippin'--
th' polisman--down th' sthreet. All r-right so far. But in th' mornin'
another story. If Clancy gets home an' finds his wife's rayturned fr'm
th' seaside or th' stock yards, or whereiver'tis she's spint her
vacation, they'se no r-rest f'r him in th' mornin'. His head may sound
in his ears like a automobill an' th' look iv an egg may make his knees
thremble, but he's got to be off to th' blacksmith shop, an' hiven help
his helper that mornin'. So Clancy's gettin' r-rich an' puttin' a
coopoly on his house."

"But with me 'tis diff'rent. Whin Phibbius Apollo as Hogan calls th'
sun, raises his head above th' gas house, I'm cuddled up in me couch an'
Morpus, gawd iv sleep, has a sthrangle holt on me. Th' alarm clock
begins to go off an' I've just sthrength enough to raise up an' fire it
through th' window. Two hours aftherward I have a gleam iv human
intillygince an' hook me watch out fr'm undher th' pillow. 'It's eight
o'clock,' says I. 'But is it eight in th' mornin' or eight in th'
evenin'?' says I. 'Faith, I dinnaw, an' divvle a bit care I. Eight's
on'y a number,' says I. 'It riprisints nawthin',' says I."

"They'se hours enough in th' day f'r a free man. I'll turr-n over an'
sleep till eight-wan and thin I'll wake up refrished,' I says. 'Tis
ilivin o'clock whin me tired lids part f'r good an' Casey has been here
to pay me eight dollars an' findin' me not up has gone away f'r another

"A marrid man gets th' money, Hinnissy, but a bachelor man gets th'
sleep. Whin all me marrid frinds is off to wurruk pound in' th'
ongrateful sand an' wheelin' th' rebellyous slag, in th' heat iv th'
afthernoon, ye can see ye'er onfortchnit bachelor frind perambulatin' up
an' down th' shady side iv th' sthreet, with an umbrelly over his head
an' a wurrud iv cheer fr'm young an' old to enliven his loneliness."

"But th' childher?" asked Mr. Hennessy slyly.

"Childher!" said Mr. Dooley. "Sure I have th' finest fam'ly in th' city.
Without scandal I'm th' father iv ivry child in Ar-rchey r-road fr'm end
to end."

"An' none iv ye'er own," said Mr. Hennessy.

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