diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:42:55 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:42:55 -0700 |
| commit | 0c5cffec2be1097e0682c7dba344abd9f01e0aa6 (patch) | |
| tree | ece50b095a8fd25c19545bfb6284a81ec19db006 /old | |
Diffstat (limited to 'old')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/13784-h.zip | bin | 0 -> 127870 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/13784-h/13784-h.htm | 6770 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/13784-h/images/001.jpg | bin | 0 -> 12590 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/13784.txt | 5414 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/13784.zip | bin | 0 -> 112350 bytes |
5 files changed, 12184 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/old/13784-h.zip b/old/13784-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..743d576 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/13784-h.zip diff --git a/old/13784-h/13784-h.htm b/old/13784-h/13784-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f726cbf --- /dev/null +++ b/old/13784-h/13784-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,6770 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/html4/loose.dtd"> +<html lang="en"> +<head> +<meta content="HTML Tidy for Mac OS X (vers 1st March 2003), see www.w3.org" name="generator"> +<meta http-equiv="content-type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> +<title>Mr. Dooley: In the Hearts of His Countrymen, by Finley +Peter Dunne.</title> +<style type="text/css"> + <!-- + + + body {margin-left: 4em; + margin-right: 4em;} + + p {text-indent: 1em; + text-align: justify;} + + ul {list-style-type: none;} + + .head {text-align: center; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + font-variant: small-caps; + font-size: 150%;} + + .title {text-align: center; + font-weight: bold; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1.75em; + font-size: 105%;} + + .ctr {text-align: center; + text-indent: 0em;} + + .noindent {text-indent: 0em;} + + .quote {text-align: justify; + margin-left: 1.85em; + margin-right: 1.85em; + text-indent: 0em;} + + .footnote {font-size: 97%; + text-indent: 0em;} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {text-align: center; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em;} + + hr.long {text-align: center; + width: 95%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 1.5em;} + + hr.med {text-align: center; + width: 60%; + margin-top: 1.5em; + margin-bottom: 1.5em;} + + hr.short {text-align: center; + width: 25%; + margin-top: 1.5em; + margin-bottom: 2em;} + + .poem {margin-left:8%; margin-right:8%; + margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem p {margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem p.i2 {margin-left: 1em;} + .poem p.i4 {margin-left: 2em;} + .poem p.i6 {margin-left: 3em;} + .poem p.i8 {margin-left: 4em;} + .poem p.i10 {margin-left: 5em;} + + a:link {color:#00C; + text-decoration:none; + font-weight: bold;} + link {color:#00C; + text-decoration:none;} + a:visited {color:#00C;; + text-decoration:none;} + a:hover {color:#F00;} + +</style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Mr. Dooley: In the Hearts of His Countrymen +by Finley Peter Dunne + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Mr. Dooley: In the Hearts of His Countrymen + +Author: Finley Peter Dunne + +Release Date: October 18, 2004 [EBook #13784] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MR. DOOLEY *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland and the PG Online Distributed +Proofreading Team. + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<h1> +MR. DOOLEY +</h1> +<h1> +In the Hearts of His Countrymen +</h1> + + +<h3> +<i>By</i> +</h3> + +<h2> +Finley Peter Dunne +</h2> + + +<center> +<img src="images/001.jpg" alt="Decoration" width="170" height="222"></center> + + +<h4> +Boston<br> +Small, Maynard & Company +</h4> + +<h4> +1899 +</h4> + +<p> </p> +<p class="ctr"> +<i><small>Copyright, 1898, 1899, by the Chicago Journal<br> +Copyright, 1899, by Robert Howard Russell<br> +Copyright, 1899, by Small, Maynard & Company</small></i> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"><i><small>Entered at Stationers' Hall</small></i> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"><i><small>First Edition (10,000 copies) October, 1899<br> +Second Edition (10,000 copies) October, 1899<br> +Third Edition (10,000 copies) October, 1899<br> +Before Publication</small></i> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"><i><small>Press of George H. Ellis, Boston, U.S.A.</small></i> +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="ctr"> +TO<br> +SIR GEORGE NEWNES, BART.<br> +MESSRS. GEORGE ROUTLEDGE & SONS LIMITED<br> +AND OTHER PUBLISHERS WHO, UNINVITED, PRESENTED<br> +MR. DOOLEY TO A PART OF THE BRITISH PUBLIC +</p> + +<hr class="long"> +<h3> +PREFACE. +</h3> + + +<p> +The author may excuse the presentation of these sketches to the +public on the ground that, if he did not publish some of them, +somebody would, and, if he did not publish the others, nobody would. +He has taken the liberty to dedicate the book to certain enterprising +gentlemen in London who have displayed their devotion to a sentiment +now widely prevailing in the Music Halls by republishing an American +book without solicitation on the author's part. At the same time he +begs to reserve <i>in petto</i> a second dedication to the people of +Archey Road, whose secluded gayety he has attempted to discover to +the world. +</p> + +<p> +With the sketches that come properly under the title "Mr. Dooley: In +the Hearts of His Countrymen" are printed a number that do not. It +has seemed impossible to a man who is not a Frenchman, and who is, +therefore, tremendously excited over the case, to avoid discussion +of the Jabberwocky of the Rennes court-martial as it is reported in +America and England. Mr. Dooley cannot lag behind his fellow +Anglo-Saxons in this matter. It is sincerely to be hoped that his +small contribution to the literature of the subject will at last +open the eyes of France to the necessity of conducting her trials, +parliamentary sessions, revolutions, and other debates in a language +more generally understood in New York and London. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +F.P.D. +<br>DUBLIN, August 30, 1899. +</p> + +<hr class="med"> +<h3> +CONTENTS. +</h3> +<table summary="Contents" width="95%" cellspacing="4" cellpadding="4"> +<tr> +<td> </td> +<td align="right"><small>PAGE</small></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#expansion">EXPANSION</a></td> +<td align="right">3</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#hero">A HERO WHO WORKED OVERTIME</a></td> +<td align="right">8</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#rudyard">RUDYARD KIPLING</a></td> +<td align="right">13</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#lord">LORD CHARLES BERESFORD</a></td> +<td align="right">18</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#hanging">HANGING ALDERMEN</a></td> +<td align="right">23</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#grip">THE GRIP</a></td> +<td align="right">30</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#lexow">LEXOW</a></td> +<td align="right">35</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#police">THEIR EXCELLENCIES, THE POLICE</a></td> +<td align="right">41</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#shaughnessy">SHAUGHNESSY</a></td> +<td align="right">45</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#times">TIMES PAST</a></td> +<td align="right">50</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#skirts">THE SKIRTS OF CHANCE</a></td> +<td align="right">56</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#trust">WHEN THE TRUST IS AT WORK</a></td> +<td align="right">61</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#brand">A BRAND FROM THE BURNING</a></td> +<td align="right">66</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#winter">A WINTER NIGHT</a></td> +<td align="right">72</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#blue">THE BLUE AND THE GRAY</a></td> +<td align="right">76</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#tragedy">THE TRAGEDY OF THE AGITATOR</a></td> +<td align="right">82</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#boyne">BOYNE WATER AND BAD BLOOD</a></td> +<td align="right">85</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#freedom">THE FREEDOM PICNIC</a></td> +<td align="right">92</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#idle">THE IDLE APPRENTICE</a></td> +<td align="right">96</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#obriens">THE O'BRIENS FOREVER</a></td> +<td align="right">101</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#candidate">A CANDIDATE'S PILLORY</a></td> +<td align="right">107</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#day">THE DAY AFTER THE VICTORY</a></td> +<td align="right">113</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#visit">A VISIT TO JEKYL ISLAND</a></td> +<td align="right">119</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#slavin">SLAVIN CONTRA WAGNER</a></td> +<td align="right">125</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#grand">GRAND OPERA</a></td> +<td align="right">130</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#church">THE CHURCH FAIR</a></td> +<td align="right">135</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#wanderers">THE WANDERERS</a></td> +<td align="right">139</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#cabinet">MAKING A CABINET</a></td> +<td align="right">143</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#old">OLD AGE</a></td> +<td align="right">149</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#divided">THE DIVIDED SKIRT</a></td> +<td align="right">154</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#bit">A BIT OF HISTORY</a></td> +<td align="right">158</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#ruling">THE RULING CLASS</a></td> +<td align="right">165</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#optimist">THE OPTIMIST</a></td> +<td align="right">170</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#prosperity">PROSPERITY</a></td> +<td align="right">175</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#hot">THE GREAT HOT SPELL</a></td> +<td align="right">180</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#lent">KEEPING LENT</a></td> +<td align="right">185</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#quick">THE QUICK AND THE DEAD</a></td> +<td align="right">190</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#soft">THE SOFT SPOT</a></td> +<td align="right">196</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#irishman">THE IRISHMAN ABROAD</a></td> +<td align="right">202</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#serenade">THE SERENADE</a></td> +<td align="right">206</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#hay">THE HAY FLEET</a></td> +<td align="right">210</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#performance">THE PERFORMANCES OF LIEUTENANT HOBSON</a></td> +<td align="right">216</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#decline">THE DECLINE OF NATIONAL FEELING</a></td> +<td align="right">222</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#cyrano">"CYRANO DE BERGERAC"</a></td> +<td align="right">228</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#union">THE UNION OF TWO GREAT FORTUNES</a></td> +<td align="right">234</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#dreyfus">THE DREYFUS CASE:</a></td> +<td align="right"> </td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#I"> I.</a></td> +<td align="right">240</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#II"> II.</a></td> +<td align="right">249</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#III"> III.</a></td> +<td align="right">259</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#IV"> IV.</a></td> +<td align="right">268</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#V"> V.</a></td> +<td align="right">276</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<hr class="med"> +<p class="head"> +Mr. DOOLEY: +<br> +In the Hearts of His Countrymen +</p> + + + +<a name="expansion"></a> +<p class="title"> +EXPANSION. +</p> + + +<p> +"Whin we plant what Hogan calls th' starry banner iv Freedom in th' +Ph'lippeens," said Mr. Dooley, "an' give th' sacred blessin' iv +liberty to the poor, down-trodden people iv thim unfortunate +isles,—dam thim!—we'll larn thim a lesson." +</p> + +<p> +"Sure," said Mr. Hennessy, sadly, "we have a thing or two to larn +oursilves." +</p> + +<p> +"But it isn't f'r thim to larn us," said Mr. Dooley. "'Tis not f'r +thim wretched an' degraded crathers, without a mind or a shirt iv +their own, f'r to give lessons in politeness an' liberty to a nation +that mannyfacthers more dhressed beef than anny other imperyal nation +in th' wurruld. We say to thim: 'Naygurs,' we say, 'poor, dissolute, +uncovered wretches,' says we, 'whin th' crool hand iv Spain forged +man'cles f'r ye'er limbs, as Hogan says, who was it crossed th' say +an' sthruck off th' comealongs? We did,—by dad, we did. An' now, ye +mis'rable, childish-minded apes, we propose f'r to larn ye th' uses iv +liberty. In ivry city in this unfair land we will erect school-houses +an' packin' houses an' houses iv correction; an' we'll larn ye our +language, because 'tis aisier to larn ye ours than to larn oursilves +yours. An' we'll give ye clothes, if ye pay f'r thim; an', if ye +don't, ye can go without. An', whin ye're hungry, ye can go to th' +morgue—we mane th' resth'rant—an' ate a good square meal iv ar-rmy +beef. An' we'll sind th' gr-reat Gin'ral Eagan over f'r to larn ye +etiquette, an' Andhrew Carnegie to larn ye pathriteism with blow-holes +into it, an' Gin'ral Alger to larn ye to hould onto a job; an', whin +ye've become edycated an' have all th' blessin's iv civilization that +we don't want, that 'll count ye one. We can't give ye anny votes, +because we haven't more thin enough to go round now; but we'll threat +ye th' way a father shud threat his childher if we have to break ivry +bone in ye'er bodies. So come to our ar-rms,' says we. +</p> + +<p> +"But, glory be, 'tis more like a rasslin' match than a father's +embrace. Up gets this little monkey iv an' Aggynaldoo, an' says he, +'Not for us,' he says. 'We thank ye kindly; but we believe,' he says, +'in pathronizin' home industhries,' he says. 'An,' he says, 'I have on +hand,' he says, 'an' f'r sale,' he says, 'a very superyor brand iv +home-made liberty, like ye'er mother used to make,' he says. ''Tis a +long way fr'm ye'er plant to here,' he says, 'an' be th' time a cargo +iv liberty,' he says, 'got out here an' was handled be th' middlemen,' +he says, 'it might spoil,' he says. 'We don't want anny col' storage +or embalmed liberty,' he says. 'What we want an' what th' ol' reliable +house iv Aggynaldoo,' he says, 'supplies to th' thrade,' he says, 'is +fr-esh liberty r-right off th' far-rm,' he says. 'I can't do annything +with ye'er proposition,' he says. 'I can't give up,' he says, 'th' +rights f'r which f'r five years I've fought an' bled ivry wan I cud +reach,' he says. 'Onless,' he says, 'ye'd feel like buyin' out th' +whole business,' he says. 'I'm a pathrite,' he says; 'but I'm no +bigot,' he says. +</p> + +<p> +"An' there it stands, Hinnissy, with th' indulgent parent kneelin' on +th' stomach iv his adopted child, while a dillygation fr'm Boston +bastes him with an umbrella. There it stands, an' how will it come out +I dinnaw. I'm not much iv an expansionist mesilf. F'r th' las' tin +years I've been thryin' to decide whether 'twud be good policy an' +thrue to me thraditions to make this here bar two or three feet +longer, an' manny's th' night I've laid awake tryin' to puzzle it out. +But I don't know what to do with th' Ph'lippeens anny more thin I did +las' summer, befure I heerd tell iv thim. We can't give thim to anny +wan without makin' th' wan that gets thim feel th' way Doherty felt to +Clancy whin Clancy med a frindly call an' give Doherty's childher th' +measles. We can't sell thim, we can't ate thim, an' we can't throw +thim into th' alley whin no wan is lookin'. An' 'twud be a disgrace +f'r to lave befure we've pounded these frindless an' ongrateful people +into insinsibility. So I suppose, Hinnissy, we'll have to stay an' do +th' best we can, an' lave Andhrew Carnegie secede fr'm th' Union. +They'se wan consolation; an' that is, if th' American people can +govern thimsilves, they can govern annything that walks." +</p> + +<p> +"An' what 'd ye do with Aggy—what-d'ye-call-him?" asked Mr. Hennessy. +</p> + +<p> +"Well," Mr. Dooley replied, with brightening eyes, "I know what they'd +do with him in this ward. They'd give that pathrite what he asks, an' +thin they'd throw him down an' take it away fr'm him." +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="hero"></a> +<p class="title">A HERO WHO WORKED OVERTIME. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, sir," said Mr. Dooley, "it looks now as if they was nawthin' +left f'r me young frind Aggynaldoo to do but time. Like as not a year +fr'm now he'll be in jail, like Napoleon, th' impror iv th' Fr-rinch, +was in his day, an' Mike, th' Burglar, an' other pathrites. That's +what comes iv bein' a pathrite too long. 'Tis a good job, whin they'se +nawthin' else to do; but 'tis not th' thing to wurruk overtime at. +'Tis a sort iv out-iv-dure spoort that ye shud engage in durin' th' +summer vacation; but, whin a man carries it on durin' business hours, +people begin to get down on him, an' afther a while they're ready to +hang him to get him out iv th' way. As Hogan says, 'Th' las' thing +that happens to a pathrite he's a scoundhrel.' +</p> + +<p> +"Las' summer there wasn't a warmer pathrite annywhere in our imperyal +dominions thin this same Aggynaldoo. I was with him mesilf. Says I: +'They'se a good coon,' I says. 'He'll help us f'r to make th' +Ph'lippeens indepindint on us f'r support,' I says; 'an', whin th' +blessin's iv civilization has been extinded to his beloved counthry, +an',' I says, 'they put up intarnal rivinue offices an' post-offices,' +I says, 'we'll give him a good job as a letter-carrier,' I says, +'where he won't have annything to do,' I says, 'but walk,' I says. +</p> + +<p> +"An' so th' consul at Ding Dong, th' man that r-runs that end iv th' +war, he says to Aggynaldoo: 'Go,' he says, 'where glory waits ye,' he +says. 'Go an' sthrike a blow,' he says, 'f'r ye'er counthry,' he says. +'Go,' he says. 'I'll stay, but you go,' he says. 'They's nawthin' in +stayin', an' ye might get hold iv a tyrannical watch or a pocket book +down beyant,' he says. An' off wint th' brave pathrite to do his +jooty. He done it, too. Whin Cousin George was pastin' th' former +hated Castiles, who was it stood on th' shore shootin' his +bow-an-arrow into th' sky but Aggynaldoo? Whin me frind Gin'ral +Merritt was ladin' a gallant charge again blank catredges, who was it +ranged his noble ar-rmy iv pathrites behind him f'r to see that no wan +attackted him fr'm th' sea but Aggynaldoo? He was a good man thin,—a +good noisy man. +</p> + +<p> +"Th' throuble was he didn't know whin to knock off. He didn't hear th' +wurruk bell callin' him to come in fr'm playin' ball an' get down to +business. Says me Cousin George: "Aggynaldoo, me buck,' he says, 'th' +war is over,' he says, 'an' we've settled down to th' ol' game,' he +says. 'They're no more heroes. All iv thim has gone to wurruk f'r th' +magazines. They're no more pathrites,' he says. 'They've got jobs as +gov'nors or ar-re lookin' f'r thim or annything else,' he says. 'All +th' prom'nint saviors iv their counthry,' he says, 'but mesilf,' he +says, 'is busy preparin' their definse,' he says. 'I have no definse,' +he says; 'but I'm where they can't reach me,' he says. 'Th' spoort is +all out iv th' job; an', if ye don't come in an' jine th' tilin masses +iv wage-wurrukers,' he says, 'ye won't even have th' credit iv bein' +licked in a gloryous victhry,' he says. 'So to th' woodpile with ye!' +he says; 'f'r ye can't go on cillybratin' th' Foorth iv July without +bein' took up f'r disordherly conduct,' he says. +</p> + +<p> +"An' Aggynaldoo doesn't undherstand it. An' he gathers his Archery +Club ar-round him, an' says he: 'Fellow-pathrites,' he says, 'we've +been betrayed,' he says. 'We've been sold out without,' he says, +'gettin' th' usual commission,' he says. 'We're still heroes,' he +says; 'an' our pitchers is in th' pa-apers,' he says. 'Go in,' he +says, 'an' sthrike a blow at th' gay deceivers,' he says. 'I'll sell +ye'er lives dearly,' he says. An' th' Archery Club wint in. Th' +pathrites wint up again a band iv Kansas sojers, that was wanst heroes +befure they larned th' hay-foot-sthraw-foot, an' is now arnin' th' +wages iv a good harvest hand all th' year ar-round, an' 'd rather +fight than ate th' ar-rmy beef, an' ye know what happened. Some iv th' +poor divvles iv heroes is liberated fr'm th' cares iv life; an' th' +r-rest iv thim is up in threes, an' wishin' they was home, smokin' a +good see-gar with mother. +</p> + +<p> +"An' all this because Aggynaldoo didn't hear th' whistle blow. He +thought th' boom was still on in th' hero business. If he'd come in, +ye'd be hearin' that James Haitch Aggynaldoo 'd been appointed +foorth-class postmasther at Hootchey-Kootchey; but now th' nex' ye +know iv him 'll be on th' blotther at th' polis station: 'James Haitch +Aggynaldoo, alias Pompydoor Jim, charged with carryin' concealed +weepins an' ray-sistin' an officer.' Pathriteism always dies when ye +establish a polis foorce." +</p> + +<p> +"Well," said Mr. Hennessy, "I'm kind iv sorry f'r th' la-ads with th' +bows an' arrows. Maybe they think they're pathrites." +</p> + +<p> +"Divvle th' bit iv difference it makes what they think, so long as we +don't think so," said Mr. Dooley. "It's what Father Kelly calls a case +iv mayhem et chew 'em. That's Latin, Hinnissy; an' it manes what's wan +man's food is another man's pizen." +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="rudyard"></a> +<p class="title">RUDYARD KIPLING. +</p> + + +<p> +"I think," said Mr. Dooley, "th' finest pothry in th' wurruld is wrote +be that frind iv young Hogan's, a man be th' name iv Roodyard Kipling. +I see his pomes in th' pa-aper, Hinnissy; an' they're all right. +They're all right, thim pomes. They was wan about scraggin' Danny +Deever that done me a wurruld iv good. They was a la-ad I wanst knew +be th' name iv Deever, an' like as not he was th' same man. He owed me +money. Thin there was wan that I see mintioned in th' war news wanst +in a while,—th' less we f'rget, th' more we raymimber. That was a +hot pome an' a good wan. What I like about Kipling is that his pomes +is right off th' bat, like me con-versations with you, me boy. He's a +minyit-man, a r-ready pote that sleeps like th' dhriver iv thruck 9, +with his poetic pants in his boots beside his bed, an' him r-ready to +jump out an' slide down th' pole th' minyit th' alarm sounds. +</p> + +<p> +"He's not such a pote as Tim Scanlan, that hasn't done annything since +th' siege iv Lim'rick; an' that was two hundherd year befure he was +bor-rn. He's prisident iv th' Pome Supply Company,—fr-resh pothry +delivered ivry day at ye'er dure. Is there an accident in a grain +illyvator? Ye pick up ye'er mornin' pa-aper, an' they'se a pome about +it be Roodyard Kipling. Do ye hear iv a manhole cover bein' blown up? +Roodyard is there with his r-ready pen. ''Tis written iv Cashum-Cadi +an' th' book iv th' gr-reat Gazelle that a manhole cover in anger is +tin degrees worse thin hell.' He writes in all dialects an' anny +language, plain an' fancy pothry, pothry f'r young an' old, pothry be +weight or linyar measuremint, pothry f'r small parties iv eight or tin +a specialty. What's the raysult, Hinnissy? Most potes I despise. But +Roodyard Kipling's pothry is aisy. Ye can skip through it while ye're +atin' breakfuss an' get a c'rrect idee iv th' current news iv th' +day,—who won th' futball game, how Sharkey is thrainin' f'r th' +fight, an' how manny votes th' pro-hybitionist got f'r gov'nor iv th' +State iv Texas. No col' storage pothry f'r Kipling. Ivrything fr-resh +an' up to date. All lays laid this mornin'. +</p> + +<p> +"Hogan was in to-day readin' Kipling's Fridah afthernoon pome, an' +'tis a good pome. He calls it 'Th' Thruce iv th' Bear.' This is th' +way it happened: Roodyard Kipling had just finished his mornin' batch +iv pothry f'r th' home-thrade, an' had et his dinner, an' was thinkin' +iv r-runnin' out in th' counthry f'r a breath iv fr-resh air, whin in +come a tillygram sayin' that th' Czar iv Rooshia had sint out a +circular letther sayin' ivrybody in th' wurruld ought to get together +an' stop makin' war an' live a quite an' dull life. Now Kipling don't +like the czar. Him an' th' czar fell out about something, an' they +don't speak. So says Roodyard Kipling to himsilf, he says: 'I'll take +a crack at that fellow,' he says. 'I'll do him up,' he says. An' so he +writes a pome to show that th' czar's letter's not on th' square. +Kipling's like me, Hinnissy. When I want to say annything lib-lous, I +stick it on to me Uncle Mike. So be Roodyard Kipling. He doesn't come +r-right out, an' say, 'Nick, ye're a liar!' but he tells about what +th' czar done to a man he knowed be th' name iv Muttons. Muttons, it +seems, Hinnissy, was wanst a hunter; an' he wint out to take a shot at +th' czar, who was dhressed up as a bear. Well, Muttons r-run him down, +an' was about to plug him, whin th' czar says, 'Hol' on,' he +says,—'hol' on there,' he says. 'Don't shoot,' he says. 'Let's talk +this over,' he says. An' Muttons, bein' a foolish man, waited till th' +czar come near him; an' thin th' czar feinted with his left, an' put +in a right hook an' pulled off Muttons's face. I tell ye 'tis so. He +jus' hauled it off th' way ye'd haul off a porous plasther,—raked off +th' whole iv Muttons's fr-ront ilivation. 'I like ye'er face,' he +says, an' took it. An' all this time, an' 'twas fifty year ago, +Muttons hasn't had a face to shave. Ne'er a one. So he goes ar-round +exhibitin' th' recent site, an' warnin' people that, whin they ar-re +shootin' bears, they must see that their gun is kept loaded an' their +face is nailed on securely. If ye iver see a bear that looks like a +man, shoot him on th' spot, or, betther still, r-run up an alley. Ye +must niver lose that face, Hinnissy. +</p> + +<p> +"I showed th' pome to Father Kelly," continued Mr. Dooley. +</p> + +<p> +"What did he say?" asked Mr. Hennessy. +</p> + +<p> +"He said," Mr. Dooley replied, "that I cud write as good a wan mesilf; +an' he took th' stub iv a pencil, an' wrote this. Lemme see—Ah! here +it is:— +</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>'Whin he shows as seekin' frindship with paws that're thrust in thine,</p> +<p>That is th' time iv pearl, that is th' thruce iv th' line.</p></div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<p>'Collarless, coatless, hatless, askin' a dhrink at th' bar,</p> +<p>Me Uncle Mike, the Fenyan, he tells it near and far,</p></div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<p>'Over an' over th' story: 'Beware iv th' gran' flimflam,</p> +<p>There is no thruce with Gazabo, th' line that looks like a lamb.'</p></div></div> + +<p> +"That's a good pome, too," said Mr. Dooley; "an' I'm goin' to sind it +to th' nex' meetin' iv th' Anglo-Saxon 'liance." +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="lord"></a> +<p class="title">LORD CHARLES BERESFORD. +</p> + + +<p> +"I see be th' pa-apers," said Mr. Dooley, "that Lord Char-les +Beresford is in our mist, as Hogan says." +</p> + +<p> +"An' who th' divvle's he?" asked Mr. Hennessy. +</p> + +<p> +"He's a Watherford man," said Mr. Dooley. "I knowed his father +well,—a markess be thrade, an' a fine man. Char-les wint to sea +early; but he's now in th' plastherin' business,—cemintin' th' +'liance iv th' United States an' England. I'll thank ye to laugh at +me joke, Mr. Hinnissy, an' not be standin' there lookin' like a +Chinny-man in a sthreet-car." +</p> + +<p> +"I don't know what ye mean," said Mr. Hennessy, softly. +</p> + +<p> +"Lord Charles Beresford is a sort iv advance agent iv th' White Man's +Burden Thrajeedy Company,—two little Evas, four hundherd millyon +Topsies, six hundherd millyon Uncle Toms. He's billin' the' counthry +f'r th' threeyumphial tour iv th' Monsther Aggregation. Nawthin' can +stop it. Blood is thicker than wather; an' together, ar-rm in ar-rm, +we'll spread th' light iv civilization fr'm wan end iv th' wurruld to +th' other, no matther what you an' Schwartzmeister say, Hinnissy. +</p> + +<p> +"Be hivins, I like th' way me kinsmen acrost th' sea, as th' pa-apers +say, threat us. 'Ye whelps,' says Lord Char-les Beresford an' Roodyard +Kipling an' Tiddy Rosenfelt an' th' other Anglo-Saxons. 'Foolish an' +frivolous people, cheap but thrue-hearted an' insincere cousins,' they +says. ''Tis little ye know about annything. Ye ar-re a disgrace to +humanity. Ye love th' dollar betther thin ye love annything but two +dollars. Ye ar-re savage, but inthrestin'. Ye misname our titles. Ye +use th' crool Krag-Jorgensen instead iv th' ca'm an' penethratin' +Lee-Metford. Ye kiss ye'er heroes, an' give thim wurruk to do. We +smash in their hats, an' illivate thim to th' peerage. Ye have +desthroyed our language. Ye ar-re rapidly convartin' our ancesthral +palaces into dwellin'-houses. Ye'er morals are loose, ye'er dhrinks +ar-re enervatin' but pleasant, an' ye talk through ye'er noses. Ye +ar-re mussy at th' table, an' ye have no religion. But ye ar-re whelps +iv th' ol' line. Those iv ye that ar-re not our brothers-in-law we +welcome as brothers. Ye annoy us so much ye must be mimbers iv our own +fam'ly. Th' same people that is washed occasionally be th' Mississippi +as it rowls majistic along th' imperyal States iv Oheeho an' Duluth, +wathrin' th' fertyle plains iv Wyoming an' Mattsachusetts, is to be +found airnin' a livin' on th' short but far more dirtier Thames. We +have th' same lithrachoor. Ye r-read our Shakspere so we can't +undherstand it; an' we r-read ye'er aspirin' authors, Poe an' Lowell +an' Ol' Sleuth th' Detective. We ar-re not onfamilyar with ye'er +inthrestin' histhry. We ar-re as pr-roud as ye are iv th' achievements +iv Gin'ral Shafter an' Gin'ral Coxey. Ye'er ambass'dures have always +been kindly received; an', whether they taught us how to dhraw to a +busted flush or wept on our collars or recited original pothry to us, +we had a brotherly feelin' for thim that med us say, "Poor fellows, +they're doin' th' best they can." 'So,' says they, 'come to our +ar-ams, an' together we'll go out an' conquer th' wurruld.' +</p> + +<p> +"An' we're goin' to do it, Hinnissy. Th' rayciption that this here +sintimint has rayceived fr'm ivry wan that has a son in colledge is +almost tumulchuse. We feel like a long-lost brother that's been +settin' outside in th' cold f'r a week, an' is now ast in to +supper—an' sarched at th' dure f'r deadly weepins. We'll have to set +up sthraight an' mind our manners. No tuckin' our napkins down our +throats or dhrinkin' out iv th' saucer or kickin' our boots off undher +the table. No reachin' f'r annything, but 'Mah, will ye kindly pass +th' Ph'lippeens?' or 'No, thank ye, pah, help ye'ersilf first.' +</p> + +<p> +"An' will we stay in? Faith, I dinnaw. We feel kindly to each other; +but it looks to me like, th' first up in th' mornin', th' first away +with th' valu'bles." +</p> + +<p> +"I'll niver come in," protested Mr. Hennessy, stoutly. +</p> + +<p> +"No more ye will, ye rebelyous omadhon," said Mr. Dooley. "An' 'twas +thinkin' iv you an' th' likes iv you an' Schwartzmeister an' th' likes +iv him that med me wondher. If th' 'liance got into a war with +Garmany, an' some wan was to start a rough-an'-tumble in Ireland about +iliction time, I wondher wud th' cimint hold!" +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="hanging"></a> +<p class="title">HANGING ALDERMEN. +</p> + + +<p> +Chicago is always on the point of hanging some one and quartering him +and boiling him in hot pitch, and assuring him that he has lost the +respect of all honorable men. Rumors of a characteristic agitation had +come faintly up Archey Road, and Mr. Hennessy had heard of it. +</p> + +<p> +"I hear they're goin' to hang th' aldhermen," he said. "If they thry +it on Willum J. O'Brien, they'd betther bombard him first. I'd hate to +be th' man that 'd be called to roll with him to his doom. He cud lick +th' whole Civic Featheration." +</p> + +<p> +"I believe ye," said Mr. Dooley. "He's a powerful man. But I hear +there is, as ye say, what th' pa-apers 'd call a movement on fut f'r +to dec'rate Chris'mas threes with aldhermen, an' 'tis wan that ought +to be encouraged. Nawthin' cud be happyer, as Hogan says, thin th' +thought iv cillybratin' th' season be sthringin' up some iv th' +fathers iv th' city where th' childher cud see thim. But I'm afraid, +Hinnissy, that you an' me won't see it. 'Twill all be over soon, an' +Willum J. O'Brien 'll go by with his head just as near his shoulders +as iver. 'Tis har-rd to hang an aldherman, annyhow. Ye'd have to +suspind most iv thim be th' waist. +</p> + +<p> +"Man an' boy, I've been in this town forty year an' more; an' divvle +th' aldherman have I see hanged yet, though I've sthrained th' eyes +out iv me head watchin' f'r wan iv thim to be histed anny pleasant +mornin'. They've been goin' to hang thim wan week an' presintin' thim +with a dimon' star th' next iver since th' year iv th' big wind, an' +there's jus' as manny iv thim an' jus' as big robbers as iver there +was. +</p> + +<p> +"An' why shud they hang thim, Hinnissy? Why shud they? I'm an honest +man mesilf, as men go. Ye might have ye'er watch, if ye had wan, on +that bar f'r a year, an' I'd niver touch it. It wudden't be worth me +while. I'm an honest man. I pay me taxes, whin Tim Ryan isn't assessor +with Grogan's boy on th' books. I do me jooty; an' I believe in th' +polis foorce, though not in polismen. That's diff'rent. But honest as +I am, between you an' me, if I was an aldherman, I wudden't say, be +hivins, I think I'd stand firm; but—well, if some wan come to me an' +said, 'Dooley, here's fifty thousan' dollars f'r ye'er vote to betray +th' sacred inthrests iv Chicago,' I'd go to Father Kelly an' ask th' +prayers iv th' congregation. +</p> + +<p> +"'Tis not, Hinnissy, that this man Yerkuss goes up to an aldherman an' +says out sthraight, 'Here, Bill, take this bundle, an' be an infamious +scoundhrel.' That's th' way th' man in Mitchigan Avnoo sees it, but +'tis not sthraight. D'ye mind Dochney that was wanst aldherman here? +Ye don't. Well, I do. He ran a little conthractin' business down be +Halsted Sthreet 'Twas him built th' big shed f'r th' ice comp'ny. He +was a fine man an' a sthrong wan. He begun his political career be +lickin' a plasthrer be th' name iv Egan, a man that had th' County +Clare thrip an' was thought to be th' akel iv anny man in town. Fr'm +that he growed till he bate near ivry man he knew, an' become very +pop'lar, so that he was sint to th' council. Now Dochney was an honest +an' sober man whin he wint in; but wan day a man come up to him, an' +says he, 'Ye know that ordhnance Schwartz inthrajooced?' 'I do,' says +Dochney, 'an I'm again it. 'Tis a swindle,' he says. "Well,' says th' +la-ad, 'they'se five thousan' in it f'r ye,' he says. They had to pry +Dochney off iv him. Th' nex' day a man he knowed well come to Dochney, +an' says he, 'That's a fine ordhnance iv Schwartz.' 'It is, like +hell,' says Dochney. ''Tis a plain swindle,' he says. ''Tis a good +thing f'r th' comp'nies,' says this man; 'but look what they've done +f'r th' city,' he says, 'an think,' he says, 'iv th' widdies an' +orphans,' he says, 'that has their har-rd-earned coin invisted,' he +says. An' a tear rolled down his cheek. 'I'm an orphan mesilf,' says +Dochney; 'an' as f'r th' widdies, anny healthy widdy with sthreet-car +stock ought to be ashamed iv hersilf if she's a widdy long,' he says. +An' th' man wint away. +</p> + +<p> +"Now Dochney thought he'd put th' five thousan' out iv his mind, but +he hadn't. He'd on'y laid it by, an' ivry time he closed his eyes he +thought iv it. 'Twas a shame to give th' comp'nies what they wanted, +but th' five thousan' was a lot iv money. 'Twud lift th' morgedge. +'Twud clane up th' notes on th' new conthract. 'Twud buy a new dhress +f'r Mrs. Dochney. He begun to feel sorrowful f'r th' widdies an' +orphans. 'Poor things!' says he to himsilf, says he. 'Poor things, how +they must suffer!' he says; 'an' I need th' money. Th' sthreet-car +comp'nies is robbers,' he says; 'but 'tis thrue they've built up th' +city,' he says, 'an th' money 'd come in handy,' he says. 'No wan 'd be +hurted, annyhow,' he says; 'an', sure, it ain't a bribe f'r to take +money f'r doin' something ye want to do, annyhow,' he says. 'Five +thousan' widdies an' orphans,' he says; an' he wint to sleep. +</p> + +<p> +"That was th' way he felt whin he wint down to see ol' Simpson to +renew his notes, an' Simpson settled it. 'Dochney,' he says, 'I wisht +ye'd pay up,' he says. 'I need th' money,' he says. 'I'm afraid th' +council won't pass th' Schwartz ordhnance,' he says; 'an' it manes +much to me,' he says. 'Be th' way,' he says, 'how're ye goin' to vote +on that ordhnance?' he says. 'I dinnaw,' says Dochney. 'Well,' says +Simpson (Dochney tol' me this himsilf), 'whin ye find out, come an' +see me about th' notes,' he says. An' Dochney wint to th' meetin'; +an', whin his name was called, he hollered 'Aye,' so loud a chunk iv +plaster fell out iv th' ceilin' an' stove in th' head iv a rayform +aldherman." +</p> + +<p> +"Did they hang him?" asked Mr. Hennessy. +</p> + +<p> +"Faith, they did not," said Mr. Dooley. "He begun missin' his jooty at +wanst. Aldhermen always do that after th' first few weeks. 'Ye got +ye'er money,' says Father Kelly; 'an' much good may it do ye,' he +says. 'Well,' says Dochney, 'I'd be a long time prayin' mesilf into +five thousan',' he says. An' he become leader in th' council. Th' las' +ordhnance he inthrojooced was wan establishin' a license f'r churches, +an' compellin' thim to keep their fr-ront dure closed an' th' blinds +drawn on Sundah. He was expelled fr'm th' St. Vincent de Pauls, an' +ilicted a director iv a bank th' same day. +</p> + +<p> +"Now, Hinnissy, that there man niver knowed he was bribed—th' first +time. Th' second time he knew. He ast f'r it. An' I wudden't hang +Dochney. I wudden't if I was sthrong enough. But some day I'm goin' to +let me temper r-run away with me, an' get a comity together, an' go +out an' hang ivry dam widdy an' orphan between th' rollin' mills an' +th' foundlin's' home. If it wasn't f'r thim raypechious crathers, +they'd be no boodle annywhere." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, don't forget Simpson," said Mr. Hennessy. +</p> + +<p> +"I won't," said Mr. Dooley, "I won't." +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="grip"></a> +<p class="title"> +THE GRIP. +</p> + + +<p> +Mr. Dooley was discovered making a seasonable beverage, consisting of +one part syrup, two parts quinine, and fifteen parts strong waters. +</p> + +<p> +"What's the matter?" asked Mr. McKenna. +</p> + +<p> +"I have th' lah gr-rip," said Mr. Dooley, blowing his nose and wiping +his eyes. "Bad cess to it! Oh, me poor back! I feels as if a dhray had +run over it. Did ye iver have it? Ye did not? Well, ye're lucky. Ye're +a lucky man. +</p> + +<p> +"I wint to McGuire's wake las' week. They gave him a dacint sind-off. +No porther. An' himsilf looked natural, as fine a corpse as iver Gavin +layed out. Gavin tould me so himsilf. He was as proud iv McGuire as if +he owned him. Fetched half th' town in to look at him, an' give ivry +wan iv thim cards. He near frightened ol' man Dugan into a faint. +'Misther Dugan, how old a-are ye?' 'Sivinty-five, thanks be,' says +Dugan. 'Thin,' says Gavin, 'take wan iv me cards,' he says. 'I hope +ye'll not forget me,' he says. +</p> + +<p> +"'Twas there I got th' lah grip. Lastewise, it is me opinion iv it, +though th' docthor said I swallowed a bug. It don't seem right, Jawn, +f'r th' McGuires is a clane fam'ly; but th' docthor said a bug got +into me system. 'What sort iv bug?' says I. 'A lah grip bug,' he says. +'Ye have Mickrobes in ye'er lungs,' he says. 'What's thim?' says I. +'Thim's th' lah grip bugs,' says he. 'Ye took wan in, an' warmed it,' +he says; 'an' it has growed an' multiplied till ye'er system does be +full iv' thim,' he says, 'millions iv thim,' he says, 'marchin' an' +counthermarchin' through ye.' 'Glory be to the saints!' says I. 'Had I +better swallow some insect powdher?' I says. 'Some iv thim in me head +has a fallin' out, an' is throwin' bricks.' 'Foolish man,' says he. +'Go to bed,' he says, 'an' lave thim alone,' he says, 'Whin they find +who they're in,' he says, 'they'll quit ye.' +</p> + +<p> +"So I wint to bed, an' waited while th' Mickrobes had fun with me. +Mondah all iv thim was quite but thim in me stummick. They stayed up +late dhrinkin' an' carousin' an' dancin' jigs till wurruds come up +between th' Kerry Mickrobes an' thim fr'm Wexford; an' th' whole party +wint over to me left lung, where they cud get th' air, an' had it out. +Th' nex' day th' little Mickrobes made a toboggan slide iv me spine; +an' manetime some Mickrobes that was wurkin' f'r th' tilliphone +comp'ny got it in their heads that me legs was poles, an' put on their +spikes an' climbed all night long. +</p> + +<p> +"They was tired out th' nex' day till about five o'clock, whin thim +that was in me head begin flushin' out th' rooms; an' I knew there was +goin' to be doin's in th' top flat. What did thim Mickrobes do but +invite all th' other Mickrobes in f'r th' ev'nin'. They all come. Oh, +by gar, they was not wan iv them stayed away. At six o'clock they +begin to move fr'm me shins to me throat. They come in platoons an' +squads an' dhroves. Some iv thirn brought along brass bands, an' more +thin wan hundherd thousand iv thim dhruv through me pipes on dhrays. A +throlley line was started up me back, an' ivry car run into a +wagon-load iv scrap iron at th' base iv me skull. +</p> + +<p> +"Th' Mickrobes in me head must 've done thimsilves proud. Ivry few +minyits th' kids 'd be sint out with th' can, an' I'd say to mesilf: +'There they go, carryin' th' thrade to Schwartzmeister's because I'm +sick an' can't wait on thim.' I was daffy, Jawn, d'ye mind. Th' likes +iv me fillin' a pitcher f'r a little boy-bug! Such dhreams! An' they +had a game iv forty-fives; an' there was wan Mickrobe that larned to +play th' game in th' County Tipp'rary, where 'tis played on stone, an' +ivry time he led thrumps he'd like to knock me head off. 'Whose thrick +is that?' says th' Tipp'rary Mickrobe. ''Tis mine,' says th' +red-headed Mickrobe fr'm th' County Roscommon. They tipped over th' +chairs an' tables: an', in less time thin it takes to tell, th' whole +party was at it. They'd been a hurlin' game in th' back iv me skull, +an' th' young folks was dancin' breakdowns an' havin' leppin' matches +in me forehead; but they all stopped to mix in. Oh, 'twas a grand +shindig—tin millions iv men, women, an' childher rowlin' on th' +flure, hands an' feet goin', ice-picks an' hurlin' sticks, clubs, +brickbats, an' beer kags flyin' in th' air! How manny iv thim was kilt +I niver knew; f'r I wint as daft as a hen, an' dhreamt iv organizin' a +Mickrobe Campaign Club that 'd sweep th' prim'ries, an' maybe go acrost +an' free Ireland. Whin I woke up, me legs was as weak as a day old +baby's, an' me poor head impty as a cobbler's purse. I want no more iv +thim. Give me anny bug fr'm a cockroach to an aygle save an' excipt +thim West iv Ireland Fenians, th' Mickrobes." +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="lexow"></a> +<p class="title">LEXOW. +</p> + + +<p> +"This here wave iv rayform," said Mr. Dooley, "this here wave iv +rayform, Jawn, mind ye, that's sweepin' over th' counthry, mind ye, +now, Jawn, is raisin' th' divvle, I see be th' pa-apers. I've seen +waves iv rayform before, Jawn. Whin th' people iv this counthry gets +wurruked up, there's no stoppin' thim. They'll not dhraw breath until +ivry man that took a dollar iv a bribe is sent down th' r-road. Thim +that takes two goes on th' comity iv th' wave iv rayform. +</p> + +<p> +"It sthruck th' r-road las' week. Darcey, th' new polisman on th' bate, +comes in here ivry night f'r to study spellin' an' figgers. I think +they'll throw him down, whin he goes to be examined. Wan iv th' wild +la-ads down be th' slough hit him with a brick wanst, an' he ain't been +able to do fractions since. Thin he's got inflammathry rheumatism +enough to burn a barn, an' he can't turn a page without makin' ye think +he's goin' to lose a thumb. He's got wife an' childher, an' he's on in +years; but he's a polisman, an' he's got to be rayformed. I tell him +all I can. He didn't know where St. Pethersburg was till I tould him it +was th' capital iv Sweden. They'll not give him th' boots on that +there question. Ye bet ye'er life they won't, Jawn. +</p> + +<p> +"I seen th' aldherman go by yisterdah; an' he'd shook his dimon 'stud, +an' he looked as poor as a dhrayman. He's rayformed. Th' little +Dutchman that was ilicted to th' legislachure says he will stay home. +Says I, 'Why?' Says he, 'There's nawthin' in it.' He's rayformed. Th' +wather inspictor, that used to take a dhrink an' a seegar an' report +me two pipes less thin I have, turned me in las' week f'r a garden +hose an' a ploonge bath. He's rayformed. Th' wave iv rayform has +sthruck, an' we're all goin' around now with rubbers on. +</p> + +<p> +"They've organized th' Ar-rchey Road Lexow Sodality, an' 'tis th' wan +institootion that Father Kelly up west iv th' bridge 'll duck his head +to. All th' best citizens is in it. Th' best citizens is thim that th' +statue iv limitations was made f'r. Barrister Hogan tol' me—an' a +dacint man, but give to dhrink—that, whin a man cud hide behind th' +statue iv limitations, he was all r-right. I niver seen it. Is that +th' wan on th' lake front? No, tubby sure, tubby sure. No wan 'd hide +behind that. +</p> + +<p> +"Th' Ar-rchey Road Lexow Sodality is composed iv none but square men. +They all have th' coin, Jawn. A man that's broke can't be square. He's +got too much to do payin' taxes. If I had a million, divvle th' step +would I step to confession. I'd make th' soggarth come an' confess to +me. They say that th' sthreets iv Hivin was paved with goold. I'll bet +ye tin to wan that with all th' square men that goes there ivry year +they have ilecloth down now." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, go on," said Mr. McKenna. +</p> + +<p> +"I was goin' to tell ye about th' Lexow Sodality. Well, th' chairman +iv it is Doherty, th' retired plumber. He sold me a house an' lot +wanst, an' skinned me out iv wan hundherd dollars. He got th' house +an' lot back an' a morgedge. But did ye iver notice th' scar on his +nose? I was r-rough in thim days. Ol' Mike Hogan is another mimber. Ye +know him. They say he hires constables be th' day f'r to serve five +days' notices. Manny's th' time I see th' little furniture out on th' +sthreet, an' th' good woman rockin' her baby under th' open sky. +Hogan's tinants. Ol' Dinnis Higgins is another wan. An' Brannigan, th' +real estate dealer. He was in th' assissors' office. May Gawd forgive +him! An' Clancy, that was bail-bondman at Twelfth Sthreet. +</p> + +<p> +"They appointed comities, an' they held a meetin'. I wint there. So +did some iv th' others. 'Twas at Finucane's, an' th' hall was crowded. +All th' sodality made speeches. Doherty made a great wan. Th' air was +reekin' with corruption, says he. Th' polis foorce was rotten to th' +core. Th' rights iv property was threatened. What, says he, was we +goin' to do about it? +</p> + +<p> +"Danny Gallagher got up, as good a lad as iver put that in his face to +desthroy his intelligence, as Shakspere says. 'Gintlemen,' says he, +'wan wurrud befure we lave,' he says. 'I've listened to th' speeches +here to-night with satisfaction,' he says. 'I'm proud to see th' +rayform wave have sthruck th' road,' he says. 'Th' rascals must be +dhriven fr'm th' high places,' he says. 'I see befure me in a chair a +gintleman who wud steal a red-hot stove an' freeze th' lid befure he +got home. On me right is th' gintleman who advanced th' wave iv +rayform tin years ago be puttin' Mrs. Geohegan out on th' sthreet in a +snowstorm whin she was roarin' with a cough. Mrs. Geohegan have +rayformed, peace be with her undher th' dhrifts iv Calv'ry! I am +greeted be th' smile iv me ol' frind Higgins. We are ol' frinds, +Dinnis, now, ain't we? D'ye mind th' calls I made on ye, with th' +stamps undher me arms, whin I wurruked in th' post-office? I've +thought iv thim whin th' lockstep was goin' in to dinner, an' prayed +f'r th' day whin I might see ye again. An' you, Misther Brannigan, who +knows about vacant lots, an' you Misther Clancy, th' frind iv th' +dhrunk an' disordherly, we're proud to have ye here. 'Tis be such as +ye that th' polisman who dhrinks on th' sly, an' th' saloon-keeper +that keeps open f'r th' la-ads an' th' newsboys that shoots craps, 'll +be brought to justice. Down with crime! says I. Fellow-citizens, I +thank ye kindly. Th' meetin' is adjourned siney dee; an' I app'int +Missers Dooley, O'Brien, Casey, Pug Slattery, an' mesilf to lade out +th' Lexow Sodality be th' nose.'" +</p> + +<p> +Mr. McKenna arose sleepily, and walked toward the door. +</p> + +<p> +"Jawn," said Mr. Dooley. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," responded Mr. McKenna. +</p> + +<p> +"Niver steal a dure-mat," said Mr. Dooley. "If ye do, ye'll be +invistigated, hanged, an' maybe rayformed. Steal a bank, me boy, steal +a bank." +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="police"></a> +<p class="title">THEIR EXCELLENCIES, THE POLICE. +</p> + + +<p> +"Ye'll be goin' home early to-night, Jawn dear," said Mr. Dooley to +Mr. McKenna. +</p> + +<p> +"And for why?" said that gentleman, tilting lazily back in the chair. +</p> + +<p> +"Because gin'ral ordher number wan is out," said Mr. Dooley, +"directin' th' polis to stop ivry man catched out afther midnight an' +make thim give a satisfacthry account iv thimsilves or run thim off to +jail. Iv coorse, ye'll be pinched, f'r ye won't dare say where ye come +fr'm; an' 'tis twinty-eight to wan, the odds again an Orangeman at a +wake, that ye'll not know where ye're goin'." +</p> + +<p> +"Tut, tut," said Mr. McKenna, indifferently. +</p> + +<p> +"Ye may tut-tut till ye lay an egg," said Mr. Dooley, severely, "ye +ol' hen; but 'tis so. I read it in th' pa-papers yesterdah afthernoon +that Brinnan—'tis queer how thim Germans all get to be polismen, +they're bright men, th' Germans, I don't think—Brinnan says, says he, +that th' city do be overrun with burglars an' highwaymen, so he +ordhers th' polis to stick up ivry pedesthreen they meet afther +closin' time. 'Tis good for him he named th' hour, f'r 'tis few +pedesthreens save an' except th' little kids with panneckers that most +iv th' polis meet befure midnight. Look at there table, will ye? 'An +ax done it,' says ye? No, faith, but th' fist iv a Kerry polisman they +put on this here bate last week. He done it ladin' thrumps. 'Thank +Gawd," says I, 'ye didn't have a good hand,' I says, 'or I might have to +call in th' wreckin' wagon.' Thim Kerry men shud be made to play +forty-fives with boxin'-gloves on. +</p> + +<p> +"I read about th' ordher, but it slipped me min' las' night. I was +down at a meetin' iv th' Hugh O'Neills, an' a most intherestin' +meetin' it was, Jawn. I'd been niglictful iv me jooty to th' cause iv +late, an' I was surprised an' shocked to hear how poor ol' Ireland was +sufferin'. Th' rayport fr'm th' Twinty-third Wa-ard, which is in th' +County Mayo, showed that th' sthreet clanin' conthract had been give +to a Swede be th' name iv Oleson; an' over in th' Nineteenth Wa-ard +th' County Watherford is all stirred up because Johnny Powers is +filled th' pipe-ya-ard with his own rilitives. I felt dam lonely, an' +with raison, too; f'r I was th' on'y man in th' camp that didn't have +a job. An' says I, 'Gintlemen,' says I, 'can't I do something f'r +Ireland, too?' I says. 'I'd make a gr-reat city threasurer,' says I, +'if ye've th' job handy,' I says; and at that they give me th' laugh, +and we tuk up a subscription an' adjourned. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, sir, I started up Ar-rchey Road afther th' meetin', forgettin' +about Brennan's ordhers, whin a man jumps out fr'm behind a tree near +th' gas-house. 'Melia murther!' says I to mesilf. ''Tis a highwayman!' +Thin, puttin' on a darin' front an' reachin' f'r me handkerchief, I +says, 'Stand back, robber!' I says. 'Stand back, robber!' I says. +'Stand back!' I says. +</p> + +<p> +"'Excuse <i>me</i>,' says th' la-ad. 'I beg ye'er pardon,' he says. +</p> + +<p> +"'Beg th' pardon iv Hiven,' says I, 'f'r stoppin' a desperate man in +th' sthreet,' says I; 'f'r in a holy minyit I'll blow off th' head iv +ye,' says I, with me hand on th' handkerchief that niver blew nawthin' +but this nose iv mine." +</p> + +<p> +"'I humbly ask your pardon,' he says, showin' a star; 'but I'm a +polisman.' +</p> + +<p> +"'Polisman or robber,' says I, 'stand aside!' I says. +</p> + +<p> +"'I'm a polisman,' he says, 'an' I'm undher ordhers to be polite with +citizens I stop,' he says; 'but, if ye don't duck up that road in half +a minyit, ye poy-faced, red-eyed, lop-eared, thick-headed ol' +bosthoon,' he says, 'I'll take ye be th' scruff iv th' neck an' thrun +ye into th' ga-as-house tank,' he says, 'if I'm coort-martialed f'r it +to-morrow.' +</p> + +<p> +"Thin I knew he <i>was</i> a polisman; an' I wint away, Jawn." +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="shaughnessy"></a> +<p class="title">SHAUGHNESSY. +</p> + +<p> +"Jawn," said Mr. Dooley in the course of the conversation, "whin ye +come to think iv it, th' heroes iv th' wurruld,—an' be thim I mean +th' lads that've buckled on th' gloves, an' gone out to do th' best +they cud,—they ain't in it with th' quite people nayether you nor me +hears tell iv fr'm wan end iv th' year to another." +</p> + +<p> +"I believe it," said Mr. McKenna; "for my mother told me so." +</p> + +<p> +"Sure," said Mr. Dooley, "I know it is an old story. Th' wurruld's +been full iv it fr'm th' beginnin'; an' 'll be full iv it till, as +Father Kelly says, th' pay-roll's closed. But I was thinkin' more iv +it th' other night thin iver before, whin I wint to see Shaughnessy +marry off his on'y daughter. You know Shaughnessy,—a quite man that +come into th' road before th' fire. He wurruked f'r Larkin, th' +conthractor, f'r near twinty years without skip or break, an' seen th' +fam'ly grow up be candle-light. Th' oldest boy was intinded f'r a +priest. 'Tis a poor fam'ly that hasn't some wan that's bein' iddycated +f'r the priesthood while all th' rest wear thimsilves to skeletons f'r +him, an' call him Father Jawn 'r Father Mike whin he comes home wanst +a year, light-hearted an' free, to eat with thim. +</p> + +<p> +"Shaughnessy's lad wint wrong in his lungs, an' they fought death f'r +him f'r five years, sindin' him out to th' Wist an' havin' masses said +f'r him; an', poor divvle, he kept comin' back cross an' crool, with +th' fire in his cheeks, till wan day he laid down, an' says he: 'Pah,' +he says, 'I'm goin' to give up,' he says. 'An' I on'y ask that ye 'll +have th' mass sung over me be some man besides Father Kelly,' he says. +An' he wint, an' Shaughnessy come clumpin' down th' aisle like a man +in a thrance. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, th' nex' wan was a girl, an' she didn't die; but, th' less +said, th' sooner mended. Thin they was Terrence, a big, bould, +curly-headed lad that cocked his hat at anny man,—or woman f'r th' +matter iv that,—an' that bruk th' back iv a polisman an' swum to th' +crib, an' was champeen iv th' South Side at hand ball. An' he wint. +Thin th' good woman passed away. An' th' twins they growed to be th' +prettiest pair that wint to first communion; an' wan night they was a +light in th' window of Shaughnessy's house till three in th' mornin'. +I rayminiber it; f'r I had quite a crowd iv Willum Joyce's men in, an' +we wondhered at it, an' wint home whin th' lamp in Shaughnessy's +window was blown out. +</p> + +<p> +"They was th' wan girl left,—Theresa, a big, clean-lookin' child that +I see grow up fr'm hello to good avnin'. She thought on'y iv th' ol' +man, an' he leaned on her as if she was a crutch. She was out to meet +him in th' ev'nin'; an' in th' mornin' he, th' simple ol' man, 'd stop +to blow a kiss at her an' wave his dinner-pail, lookin' up an' down +th' r-road to see that no wan was watchin' him. +</p> + +<p> +"I dinnaw what possessed th' young Donahue, fr'm th' Nineteenth. I +niver thought much iv him, a stuck-up, aisy-come la-ad that niver had +annything but a civil wurrud, an' is prisident iv th' sodality. But he +came in, an' married Theresa Shaughnessy las' Thursdah night. Th' ol' +man took on twinty years, but he was as brave as a gin'ral iv th' +army. He cracked jokes an' he made speeches; an' he took th' pipes +fr'm under th' elbow iv Hogan, th' blindman, an' played 'Th' Wind that +shakes th' Barley' till ye'd have wore ye'er leg to a smoke f'r +wantin' to dance. Thin he wint to th' dure with th' two iv thim; an' +says he, 'Well,' he says, 'Jim, be good to her,' he says, an' shook +hands with her through th' carredge window. +</p> + +<p> +"Him an' me sat a long time smokin' across th' stove. Fin'lly, says I, +'Well,' I says, 'I must be movin'.' 'What's th' hurry?' says he. 'I've +got to go,' says I. 'Wait a moment,' says he. 'Theresa 'll'—He stopped +right there f'r a minyit, holdin' to th' back iv th' chair. 'Well,' +says he, 'if ye've got to go, ye must,' he says. 'I'll show ye out,' +he says. An' he come with me to th' dure, holdin' th' lamp over his +head. I looked back at him as I wint by; an' he was settin' be th' +stove, with his elbows on his knees an' th' empty pipe between his +teeth." +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="times"></a> +<p class="title">TIMES PAST. +</p> + + +<p> +Mr. McKenna, looking very warm and tired, came in to Mr. Dooley's +tavern one night last week, and smote the bar with his fist. +</p> + +<p> +"What's the matter with Hogan?" he said. +</p> + +<p> +"What Hogan?" asked Mr. Dooley. "Malachy or Matt? Dinnis or Mike? +Sarsfield or William Hogan? There's a Hogan f'r ivry block in th' +Ar-rchey Road, an' wan to spare. There's nawthin' th' matter with anny +iv thim; but, if ye mean Hogan, th' liquor dealer, that r-run f'r +aldherman, I'll say to ye he's all right. Mind ye, Jawn, I'm doin' +this because ye're me frind; but, by gar, if anny wan else comes in +an' asks me that question, I'll kill him, if I have to go to th' +bridewell f'r it. I'm no health officer." +</p> + +<p> +Having delivered himself of this tirade, Mr. Dooley scrutinized Mr. +McKenna sharply, and continued: "Ye've been out ilictin' some man, +Jawn, an' ye needn't deny it. I seen it th' minyit ye come in. Ye'er +hat's dinted, an' ye have ye'er necktie over ye'er ear; an' I see be +ye'er hand ye've hit a Dutchman. Jawn, ye know no more about politics +thin a mimber iv this here Civic Featheration. Didn't ye have a beer +bottle or an ice-pick? Ayether iv thim is good, though, whin I was a +young man an' precint captain an' intherested in th' welfare iv th' +counthry, I found a couplin' pin in a stockin' about as handy as +annything. +</p> + +<p> +"Thim days is over, though, Jawn, an' between us politics don't +intherest me no more. They ain't no liveliness in thim. Whin Andy +Duggan r-run f'r aldherman against Schwartzmeister, th' big +Dutchman,—I was precinct captain then, Jawn,—there was an iliction +f'r ye. 'Twas on our precinct they relied to ilict Duggan; f'r the +Dutch was sthrong down be th' thrack, an' Schwartzmeister had a band +out playin' 'Th' Watch on th' Rhine.' Well, sir, we opened th' polls +at six o'clock, an' there was tin Schwartzmeister men there to protect +his intherests. At sivin o'clock there was only three, an' wan iv thim +was goin' up th' sthreet with Hinnissy kickin' at him. At eight +o'clock, be dad,' there was on'y wan; an' he was sittin' on th' roof +iv Gavin's blacksmith shop, an' th' la-ads was thryin' to borrow a +laddher fr'm th' injine-house f'r to get at him. 'Twas thruck +eighteen; an' Hogan, that was captain, wudden't let thim have it. Not +ye'er Hogan, Jawn, but th' meanest fireman in Bridgeport. He got kilt +aftherwards. He wudden't let th' la-ads have a laddher, an' th' +Dutchman stayed up there; an', whin there was nawthin' to do, we wint +over an' thrun bricks at him. 'Twas gr-reat sport. +</p> + +<p> +"About four in th' afthernoon Schwartzmeister's band come up Ar-rchey +Road, playin' 'Th' Watch on th' Rhine.' Whin it got near Gavin's, big +Peter Nolan tuk a runnin' jump, an' landed feet first in th' big bass +dhrum. Th' man with th' dhrum walloped him over th' head with th' +dhrum-stick, an' Dorsey Quinn wint over an' tuk a slide trombone away +fr'm the musician an' clubbed th' bass dhrum man with it. Thin we all +wint over, an' ye niver see th' like in ye'er born days. Th' las' I +see iv th' band it was goin' down th' road towards th' slough with a +mob behind it, an' all th' polis foorce fr'm Deerin' Sthreet afther +th' mob. Th' la-ads collected th' horns an' th' dhrums, an' that +started th' Ar-rchey Road brass band. Little Mike Doyle larned to play +'Th' Rambler fr'm Clare' beautifully on what they call a pickle-e-o +befure they sarved a rayplivin writ on him. +</p> + +<p> +"We cast twinty-wan hundherd votes f'r Duggan, an' they was on'y five +hundherd votes in th' precinct. We'd cast more, but th' tickets give +out. They was tin votes in th' box f'r Schwartzmeister whin we counted +up; an' I felt that mortified I near died, me bein' precinct captain, +an' res-sponsible. 'What 'll we do with thim? Out th' window,' says I. +Just thin Dorsey's nanny-goat that died next year put her head through +th' dure. 'Monica,' says Dorsey (he had pretty names for all his +goats), 'Monica, are ye hungry,' he says, 'ye poor dear?' Th' goat +give him a pleadin' look out iv her big brown eyes. 'Can't I make ye +up a nice supper?' says Dorsey. 'Do ye like paper?' he says. 'Would ye +like to help desthroy a Dutchman,' he says, 'an' perform a sarvice f'r +ye'er counthry?' he says. Thin he wint out in th' next room, an' come +back with a bottle iv catsup; an' he poured it on th' Schwartzmeister +ballots, an' Monica et thim without winkin'. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, sir, we ilicted Duggan; an' what come iv it? Th' week before +iliction he was in me house ivry night, an' 'twas 'Misther Dooley, +this,' an' 'Mr. Dooley, that,' an' 'What 'll ye have, boys?' an' +'Niver mind about th' change.' I niver see hide nor hair iv him f'r a +week afther iliction. Thin he come with a plug hat on, an' says he: +'Dooley,' he says, 'give me a shell iv beer,' he says: 'give me a +shell iv beer,' he says, layin' down a nickel. 'I suppose ye're on th' +sub-scription,' he says. 'What for?' says I. 'F'r to buy me a goold +star,' says he. With that I eyes him, an' says I: 'Duggan,' I says, +'I knowed ye whin ye didn't have a coat to ye'er back,' I says, 'an' I +'ll buy no star f'r ye,' I says. 'But I'll tell ye what I'll buy f'r +ye,' I says. 'I'll buy rayqueem masses f'r th' raypose iv ye'er sowl, +if ye don't duck out iv this in a minyit,' Whin I seen him last, he +was back dhrivin' a dhray an' atin' his dinner out iv a tin can." +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="skirts"></a> +<p class="title">THE SKIRTS OF CHANCE. +</p> + + +<p> +The people of Bridgeport are not solicitous of modern improvements, +and Mr. Dooley views with distaste the new and garish. But he +consented to install a nickel-in-the-slot machine in his tavern last +week, and it was standing on a table when Mr. McKenna came in. It was +a machine that looked like a house; and, when you put a nickel in at +the top of it, either the door opened and released three other nickels +or it did not. Mostly it did not. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Dooley saluted Mr. McKenna with unusual cordiality, and Mr. +McKenna inspected the nickel-in-the-slot machine with affectation of +much curiosity. +</p> + +<p> +"What's this you have here, at all?" said Mr. McKenna. +</p> + +<p> +"'Tis an aisy way iv gettin' rich," said Mr. Dooley. "All ye have to +do is to dhrop a nickel in th' slot, an' three other nickels come out +at th' dure. Ye can play it all afthernoon, an' take a fortune fr'm it +if ye'er nickels hould out." +</p> + +<p> +"And where do th' nickels come fr'm?" asked Mr. McKenna. +</p> + +<p> +"I put thim in," said Mr. Dooley. "Ivry twinty minutes I feed th' +masheen a hatful iv nickels, so that whin me frinds dhrop in they +won't be dissypinted, d'ye mind. 'Tis a fine invistment for a young +man. Little work an' large profits. It rayminds me iv Hogan's big kid +an' what he done with his coin. He made a lot iv it in dhrivin' a +ca-ar, he did, but he blew it all in again good liquor an' bad women; +an', bedad, he was broke half th' time an' borrowin' th' other half. +So Hogan gets in Father Kelly fr'm up west iv th' bridge, an' they set +in with Dinnis to talk him out iv his spindthrift ways. 'I have plenty +to keep mesilf,' says Hogan, he says. 'But,' he says, 'I want ye to +save ye'er money,' he says, 'f'r a rainy day.' 'He's right, Dinnis,' +says th' soggarth,—'he's right,' he says. 'Ye should save a little in +case ye need it,' he says. 'Why don't ye take two dollars,' says th' +priest, 'an' invist it ivry month,' says he, 'in somethin',' says he, +'that 'll give ye profits,' says he. 'I'll do it,' says Dinnis,—'I +'ll do it,' he says. Well, sir, Hogan was that tickled he give th' +good man five bones out iv th' taypot; but, faith, Dinnis was back at +his reg'lar game before th' week was out, an', afther a month or two, +whin Hogan had to get th' tayspoons out iv soak, he says to th' kid, +he says, 'I thought ye was goin' to brace up,' he says, 'an' here +ye're burnin' up ye'er money,' he says. 'Didn't ye promise to invist +two dollars ivry month?' he says. 'I'm doin' it,' says Dinnis. 'I've +kept me wurrud.' 'An' what are ye invistin' it in?' says Hogan. 'In +lotthry tickets,' says th' imp'dent kid." +</p> + +<p> +While delivering these remarks, Mr. Dooley was peeping over his +glasses at Mr. McKenna, who was engaged in a struggle with the +machine. He dropped a nickel and it rattled down the slot, but it did +not open the door. +</p> + +<p> +"Doesn't it open?" said Mr. Dooley. +</p> + +<p> +"It does not." +</p> + +<p> +"Shake it thin," said Mr. Dooley. "Something must be wrong." +</p> + +<p> +Mr. McKenna shook the machine when he inserted the next nickel, but +there was no compensatory flow of coins from the door. +</p> + +<p> +"Perhaps the money is bad," suggested Mr. Dooley. "It won't open f'r +bad money." +</p> + +<p> +Thereupon he returned to his newspaper, observing which Mr. McKenna +drew from his pocket a nickel attached to a piece of string and +dropped it into the slot repeatedly. After a while the door popped +open, and Mr. McKenna thrust in his hand expectantly. There was no +response, and he turned in great anger to Mr. Dooley. +</p> + +<p> +"There ain't any money there," he said. +</p> + +<p> +"Ye're right, Jawn," responded Mr. Dooley. "If ye expect to dhraw anny +coin fr'm that there masheen, ye may call on some iv ye'er rough +frinds down town f'r a brace an' bit an' a jimmy. Jawn, me la-ad, I +see th' nickel with th' string before; an', to provide again it, I +improved th' masheen. Thim nickels ye dhropped in are all in th' +dhrawer iv that there table, an' to-morrow mornin' ye may see me +havin' me hair cut be means iv thim. An' I'll tell ye wan thing, Jawn +McKenna, an' that's not two things, that if ye think ye can come up +here to Ar-rchey Road an' rob an honest man, by gar, ye've made th' +mistake iv ye'er life. Goowan, now, before I call a polisman." +</p> + +<p> +Mr. McKenna stopped at the door only long enough to shake his fist at +the proprietor, who responded with a grin of pure contentment. +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="trust"></a> +<p class="title">WHEN THE TRUST IS AT WORK. +</p> + + +<p> +"Which d'ye think makes th' best fun'ral turnout, th' A-ho-aitches or +th' Saint Vincent de Pauls, Jawn?" asked Mr. Dooley. +</p> + +<p> +"I don't know," said Mr. McKenna. "Are you thinking of leaving us?" +</p> + +<p> +"Faith, I am not," said Mr. Dooley. "Since th' warm weather's come an' +th' wind's in th' south, so that I can tell at night that A-armoor an' +me ol' frind, Jawn Brinnock, are attindin' to business, I have a grip +on life like th' wan ye have on th' shank iv that shell iv malt. +Whether 'tis these soft days, with th' childher beginnin' to play +barefutted in th' sthreet an' th' good women out to palaver over th' +fence without their shawls, or whether 'tis th' wan wurrud Easter +Sundah that comes on me, an' jolts me up with th' thoughts iv th' +la-ads goin' to mass an' th' blackthorn turnin' green beyant, I +dinnaw. But annyhow I'm as gay as a babby an' as fresh as a lark. I am +so. +</p> + +<p> +"I was on'y thinkin'. Ol' Gran'pah Grogan died las' Mondah,—as good a +man as e'er counted his beads or passed th' plate. A thrue man. +Choosdah a Connock man up back iv th' dumps laid down th' shovel. +Misther Grogan had a grand notice in th' pa-apers: 'Grogan, at his +late risidence, 279 A-archoor Avnoo, Timothy Alexander, beloved +husband iv th' late Mary Grogan, father iv Maurice, Michael, Timothy, +Edward, James, Peter, Paul, an' Officer Andrew Grogan, iv Cologne +Sthreet station, an' iv Mrs. Willum Sarsfield Cassidy, nee Grogan' +(which manes that was her name befure she marrid Cassidy, who wurruks +down be Haley's packin'-house). 'Fun'ral be carriages fr'm his late +risidence to Calv'ry cimithry. Virginia City, Nivada; St. Joseph, +Mitchigan; an' Clonmel Tipp'rary pa-apers please copy.' +</p> + +<p> +"I didn't see e'er a nee about th' fam'ly iv th' little man back iv +th' dumps, though maybe he had wan to set aroun' th' fire in th' dark +an' start at th' tap iv a heel on th' dure-step. Mebbe he had a +fam'ly, poor things. A fun'ral is great la-arks f'r th' neighbors, an' +'tis not so bad f'r th' corpse. But in these times, Jawn dear, a-ho +th' gray hearts left behind an' th' hungry mouths to feed. They done +th' best they cud f'r th' Connock man back iv th' dumps,—give him all +th' honors, th' A-ho-aitches ma-archin' behind th' hearse an' th' band +playin' th' Dead March, 'Twas almost as good a turnout as Grogan had, +though th' Saint Vincents had betther hats an' looked more like their +fam'lies kept a cow. +</p> + +<p> +"But they was two hacks back iv th' pall-bearers. I wondhered what was +passin' behind th' faces I seen again their windys. 'Twas well f'r +himself, too. Little odds to him, afther th' last screw was twisted be +Gavin's ol' yellow hands, whether beef was wan cint or a hundherd +dollars th' pound. But there's comin' home as well as goin' out. +There's more to a fun'ral thin th' lucks parpitua, an' th' clod iv +sullen earth on th' top iv th' crate. Sare a pax vobiscum is there f'r +thim that's huddled in th' ol' hack, sthragglin' home in th' dust to +th' empty panthry an' th' fireless grate. +</p> + +<p> +"Mind ye, Jawn, I've no wurrud to say again thim that sets back in +their own house an' lot an' makes th' food iv th' people dear. They're +good men, good men. Whin they tilt th' price iv beef to where wan +pound iv it costs as much as manny th' man in this Ar-rchey Road 'd +wurruk fr'm th' risin' to th' settin' iv th' sun to get, they have no +thought iv th' likes iv you an' me. 'Tis aisy come, aisy go with thim; +an' ivry cint a pound manes a new art musoom or a new church, to take +th' edge off hunger. They're all right, thim la-ads, with their own +pork-chops delivered free at th' door. 'Tis, 'Will ye have a new +spring dhress, me dear? Willum, ring thim up, an' tell thim to hist +th' price iv beef. If we had a few more pitchers an' statoos in th' +musoom, 'twud ilivate th' people a sthory or two. Willum, afther this +steak 'll be twinty cints a pound.' Oh, they're all right, on'y I was +thinkin' iv th' Connock man's fam'ly back iv th' dumps." +</p> + +<p> +"For a man that was gay a little while ago, it looks to me as if you'd +grown mighty solemn-like," said Mr. McKenna. +</p> + +<p> +"Mebbe so," said Mr. Dooley. "Mebbe so. What th' 'ell, annyhow. Mebbe +'tis as bad to take champagne out iv wan man's mouth as round steak +out iv another's. Lent is near over. I seen Doherty out shinin' up his +pipe that's been behind th' clock since Ash Winsdah. Th' girls 'll be +layin' lilies on th' altar in a day or two. Th' spring's come on. Th' +grass is growin' good; an', if th' Connock man's children back iv th' +dumps can't get meat, they can eat hay." +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="brand"></a> +<p class="title">A BRAND FROM THE BURNING. +</p> + +<p> +"I see be th' pa-apers," said Mr. Dooley, "that Boss have flew th' +coop. 'Tis too bad, too bad. He wa-as a gr-reat man." +</p> + +<p> +"Is he dead?" asked Mr. McKenna. +</p> + +<p> +"No, faith, worse thin that; he's resigned. He calls th' la-ads about +him, an' says he: 'Boys,' he says, 'I'm tired iv politics,' he says. +'I'm goin' to quit it f'r me health,' he says. 'Do ye stay in, an' get +ar-rested f'r th' good iv th' party.' Ye see thim mugwumps is afther +th' Boss, an' he's gettin' out th' way Hogan got out iv Connock. Wan +day he comes over to me fa-ather's house, an' says he, 'Dooley,' he +says, 'I'm goin' to lave this hole iv a place,' he says. 'F'r why?' +says th' ol' man; 'I thought ye liked it.' 'Faith,' says Hogan, 'I +niver liked a blade iv grass in it,' he says. 'I'm sick iv it,' he +says. 'I don't want niver to see it no more.' And he wint away. Th' +next mornin' th' polis was lookin' f'r him to lock him up f'r stealin' +joo'lry in the fair town. Yes, by dad. +</p> + +<p> +"'Tis th' way iv th' boss, Jawn. I seen it manny's th' time. There +was wanst a boss in th' Sixth Wa-ard, an' his name was Flannagan; an' +he came fr'm th' County Clare, but so near th' bordher line that no +wan challenged his vote, an' he was let walk down Ar-rchey Road just's +though he come fr'm Connock. Well, sir, whin I see him first, he'd th' +smell iv Castle Garden on him, an' th' same is no mignonette, d'ye +mind; an' he was goin' out with pick an' shovel f'r to dig in th' +canal,—a big, shtrappin', black-haired lad, with a neck like a bull's +an' covered with a hide as thick as wan's, fr'm thryin' to get a crop +iv oats out iv a Clare farm that growed divvle th' thing but nice, big +boldhers. +</p> + +<p> +"He was de-termined, though, an' th' first man that made a face at him +he walloped in th' jaw; an' he'd been on th' canal no more thin a month +before he licked ivry man in th' gang but th' section boss, who'd been +a Dublin jackeen, an' weighed sixteen stone an' was great with a thrip +an' a punch. Wan day they had some wurruds, whin me bold Dublin man +sails into Flannagan. Well, sir, they fought fr'm wan o'clock till tin +in th' night, an' nayther give up; though Flannagan had th' best iv +it, bein' young. 'Why don't ye put him out?' says wan iv th' la-ads. +'Whisht,' says Flannagan. 'I'm waitin' f'r th' moon to come up,' he +says, 'so's I can hit him right,' he says, 'an' scientific.' Well, +sir, his tone was that fierce th' section boss he dhropped right there +iv sheer fright; an' Flannagan was cock iv th' walk. +</p> + +<p> +"Afther a while he begun f'r to go out among th' other gangs, lookin' +f'r fight; an', whin th' year was over, he was knowed fr'm wan end iv +th' canal to th' other as th' man that no wan cud stand befure. He got +so pop'lar fr'm lickin' all his frinds that he opened up a liquor +store beyant th' bridge, an' wan night he shot some la-ads fr'm th' +ya-ards that come over f'r to r-run him. That made him sthronger still. +When they got up a prize f'r th' most pop'lar man in th' parish, he +loaded th' ballot box an' got th' goold-headed stick, though he was +r-runnin' against th' aldherman, an' th' little soggarth thried his +best to down him. Thin he give a cock fight in th' liquor shop, an' +that atthracted a gang iv bad men; an' he licked thim wan afther +another, an' made thim his frinds. An' wan day lo an' behold, whin th' +aldherman thried f'r to carry th' prim'ries that 'd niver failed him +befure, Flannagan wint down with his gang an' illicted his own +dilligate ticket, an' thrun th' aldherman up in th' air! +</p> + +<p> +"Thin he was a boss, an' f'r five years he r-run th' ward. He niver +wint to th' council, d'ye mind; but, whin he was gin'rous, he give th' +aldhermen tin per cint iv what they made. In a convintion, whin anny +iv th' candydates passed roun' th' money, 'twas wan thousand dollars +f'r Flannagan an' have a nice see-gar with me f'r th' rest iv thim. +Wan year fr'm th' day he done th' aldherman he sold th' liquor shop. +Thin he built a brick house in th' place iv th' little frame wan he +had befure, an' moved in a pianny f'r his daughter. 'Twas about this +time he got a dimon as big as ye'er fist, an' begun to dhrive down +town behind a fast horse. No wan knowed what he done, but his wife +said he was in th' r-rale estate business. D'ye mind, Jawn, that th' +r-rale estate business includes near ivrything fr'm vagrancy to +manslaughter? +</p> + +<p> +"Whativer it was he done, he had money to bur-rn; an' th' little +soggarth that wanst despised him, but had a hard time payin' th' debt +iv th' church, was glad enough to sit at his table. Wan day without +th' wink iv th' eye he moved up in th' avnoo, an' no wan seen him in +Bridgeport afther that. 'Twas a month or two later whin a lot iv th' +la-ads was thrun into jail f'r a little diviltry they'd done f'r him. +A comity iv th' fathers iv th' la-ads wint to see him. He raceived +thim in a room as big as wan iv their whole houses, with pitchers on +th' walls an' a carpet as deep an' soft as a bog. Th' comity asked him +to get th' la-ads out on bail. +</p> + +<p> +"'Gintlemen,' he says, 'ye must excuse me,' he says, 'in such +matthers.' 'D'ye mane to say,' says Cassidy, th' plumber, 'that ye +won't do annything f'r my son?' 'Do annything,' says Flannagan. (I'll +say this f'r him: a more darin' man niver drew breath; an', whin his +time come to go sthandin' off th' mob an' defindin' his sthone quarry +in th' rites iv sivinty-sivin, he faced death without a wink.) 'Do?' +he says, risin' an' sthandin' within a fut iv Cassidy's big cane. +'Do?' he says. 'Why,' he says, 'yes,' he says; 'I've subscribed wan +thousand dollars,' he says, 'to th' citizen's comity,' he says, 'f'r +to prosecute him; an',' he says, 'gintlemen,' he says, 'there's th' +dure.' +</p> + +<p> +"I seen Cassidy that night, an' he was as white as a ghost. 'What ails +ye?' says I. 'Have ye seen th' divvle?' 'Yes,' he says, bendin' his +head over th' bar, an' lookin' sivinty years instead iv forty-five." +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="winter"></a> +<p class="title">A WINTER NIGHT. +</p> + + +<p> +Any of the Archey Road cars that got out of the barns at all were +pulled by teams of four horses, and the snow hung over the shoulders +of the drivers' big bearskin coats like the eaves of an old-fashioned +house on the blizzard night. There was hardly a soul in the road from +the red bridge, west, when Mr. McKenna got laboriously off the +platform of his car and made for the sign of somebody's celebrated +Milwaukee beer over Mr. Dooley's tavern. Mr. Dooley, being a man of +sentiment, arranges his drinks to conform with the weather. Now +anybody who knows anything at all knows that a drop of "J.J." and a +whisper (subdued) of hot water and a lump of sugar and lemon peel (if +you care for lemon peel) and nutmeg (if you are a "jood ") is a drink +calculated to tune a man's heart to the song of the wind slapping a +beer-sign upside down and the snow drifting in under the door. Mr. +Dooley was drinking this mixture behind his big stove when Mr. McKenna +came in. +</p> + +<p> +"Bad night, Jawn," said Mr. Dooley. +</p> + +<p> +"It is that," said Mr. McKenna. +</p> + +<p> +"Blowin' an' storming', yes," said Mr. Dooley. "There hasn' been a can +in tonight but wan, an' that was a pop bottle. Is the snow-ploughs +out, I dinnaw?" +</p> + +<p> +"They are," said Mr. McKenna. +</p> + +<p> +"I suppose Doherty is dhrivin'," said Mr. Dooley. "He's a good +dhriver. They do say he do be wan iv the best dhrivers on th' road. +I've heerd that th' prisident is dead gawn on him. He's me cousin. Ye +can't tell much about what a man 'll be fr'm what th' kid is. That +there Doherty was th' worst omadhon iv a boy that iver I knowed. He +niver cud larn his a-ah-bee, abs. But see what he made iv himsilf! Th' +best dhriver on th' road; an', by dad, 'tis not twinty to wan he won't +be stharter befure he dies. 'Tis in th' fam'ly to make their names. +There niver was anny fam'ly in th' ol' counthry that turned out more +priests than th' Dooleys. By gar, I believe we hol' th' champeenship +iv th' wurruld. At M'nooth th' profissor that called th' roll got so +fr'm namin' th' Dooley la-ads that he came near bein' tur-rned down on +th' cha-arge that he was whistlin' at vespers. His mouth, d'ye mind, +took that there shape fr'm sayin' 'Dooley,' 'Dooley,' that he'd looked +as if he was whistlin'. D'ye mind? Dear, oh dear, 'tis th' divvle's +own fam'ly f'r religion." +</p> + +<p> +Mr. McKenna was about to make a jeering remark to the effect that the +alleged piety of the Dooley family had not penetrated to the Archey +Road representative, when a person, evidently of wayfaring habits, +entered and asked for alms. Mr. Dooley arose, and, picking a +half-dollar from the till, handed it to the visitor with great +unconcern. The departure of the wayfarer with profuse thanks was +followed by a space of silence. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, Jawn," said Mr. Dooley. +</p> + +<p> +"What did you give the hobo?" asked Mr. McKenna. +</p> + +<p> +"Half a dollar," said Mr. Dooley. +</p> + +<p> +"And what for?" +</p> + +<p> +"Binivolence," said Mr. Dooley, with a seraphic smile. +</p> + +<p> +"Well," said Mr. McKenna, "I should say that was benevolence." +</p> + +<p> +"Well," said Mr. Dooley, "'tis a bad night out, an' th' poor divvle +looked that miserable it brought th' tears to me eyes, an'"— +</p> + +<p> +"But," said Mr. McKenna, "that ain't any reason why you should give +half a dollar to every tramp who comes in." +</p> + +<p> +"Jawn," said Mr. Dooley, "I know th' ma-an. He spinds all his money at +Schneider's, down th' block." +</p> + +<p> +"What of that?" asked Mr. McKenna. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, nawthin'," said Mr. Dooley, "on'y I hope Herman won't thry to +bite that there coin. If he does"— +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="blue"></a> +<p class="title">THE BLUE AND THE GRAY. +</p> + + +<p> +"A-ho," said Mr. Dooley, "th' blue an' th' gray, th' blue an' th' +gray. Well, sir, Jawn, d'ye know that I see Mulligan marchin' ahead +with his soord on his side, an' his horse dancin' an' backin' into th' +crowd; an' th' la-ads chowlder arms an' march, march away. Ye shud 've +been there. Th' women come down fr'm th' pee-raries with th' childher +in their arms, an' 'twas like a sind-off to a picnic. 'Good-by, Mike.' +'Timothy, darlin', don't forget your prayers.' 'Cornalius, if ye do +but look out f'r th' little wans, th' big wans 'll not harm ye.' +'Teddy, lad, always wear ye'er Agnus Day.' An', whin th' time come f'r +th' thrain to lave, th' girls was up to th' lines; an' 'twas, 'Mike, +love, ye'll come back alive, won't ye?' an' 'Pat, there does be a pair +iv yarn socks in th' hoomp on ye'er back. Wear thim, lad. They'll be +good f'r ye'er poor, dear feet.' An' off they wint. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, some come back, an' some did not come back. An' some come back +with no rale feet f'r to put yarn socks on thim. Mulligan quit down +somewhere in Kentucky; an' th' las' wurruds he was heard to utter was, +'Lay me down, boys, an' save th' flag.' An there was manny th' other +that had nawthin' to say but to call f'r a docthor; f'r 'tis on'y, +d'ye mind, th' heroes that has somethin' writ down on typewriter f'r +to sind to th' newspapers whin they move up. Th' other lads that dies +because they cudden't r-run away,—not because they wudden't,—they +dies on their backs, an' calls f'r th' docthor or th' priest. It +depinds where they're shot. +</p> + +<p> +"But, annyhow, no wan iv thim lads come back to holler because he was +in th' war or to war again th' men that shot him. They wint to wurruk, +carryin' th' hod 'r shovellin' cindhers at th' rollin' mills. Some iv +thim took pinsions because they needed thim; but divvle th' wan iv +thim ye'll see paradin' up an' down Ar-rchey Road with a blue coat on, +wantin' to fight th' war over with Schwartzmeister's bar-tinder that +niver heerd iv but wan war, an' that th' rites iv sivinty-sivin. Sare +a wan. No, faith. They'd as lave decorate a confeatherate's grave as a +thrue pathrite's. All they want is a chanst to go out to th' cimitry; +an', faith, who doesn't enjoy that? No wan that's annything iv a +spoort. +</p> + +<p> +"I know hundherds iv thim. Ye know Pat Doherty, th' little man that +lives over be Grove Sthreet. He inlisted three times, by dad, an' had +to stand on his toes three times to pass. He was that ager. Well, he +looks to weigh about wan hundherd an' twinty pounds; an' he weighs wan +fifty be raison iv him havin' enough lead to stock a plumber in his +stomach an' his legs. He showed himsilf wanst whin he was feelin' gay. +He looks like a sponge. But he ain't. He come in here Thursdah night +to take his dhrink in quite; an' says I, 'Did ye march to-day?' +'Faith, no,' he says, 'I can get hot enough runnin' a wheelbarrow +without makin' a monkey iv mesilf dancin' around th' sthreets behind a +band.' 'But didn't ye go out to decorate th' graves?' says I. 'I +hadn't th' price,' says he, 'Th' women wint out with a gyranium to put +over Sarsfield, the first born,' he says. +</p> + +<p> +"Just thin Morgan O'Toole come in, an' laned over th' ba-ar. He's been +a dillygate to ivry town convention iv th' Raypublicans since I dinnaw +whin. 'Well,' says he, 'I see they're pilin' it on,' he says. 'On th' +dead?' says I, be way iv a joke. 'No,' he says; 'but did ye see +they're puttin' up a monnymint over th' rebils out here be Oakwoods?' +he says. 'By gar,' he says, ''tis a disgrace to th' mim'ries iv thim +devoted dead who died f'r their counthry,' he says. 'If,' he says, 'I +cud get ninety-nine men to go out an' blow it up, I'd be th' +hundherth,' he says. 'Yes,' says I, 'ye wud,' I says. 'Ye'd be th' +last,' I says. +</p> + +<p> +"Doherty was movin' up to him. 'What rig'mint?' says he. 'What's +that?' says O'Toole. 'Did ye inlist in th' army, brave man?' says Pat. +'I swore him over age,' says I. 'Was ye dhrafted in?' says th' little +man. 'No,' says O'Toole. 'Him an' me was in th' same cellar,' says I. +'Did ye iver hear iv Ree-saca, 'r Vicksburg, 'r Lookout Mountain?' th' +little man wint on. 'Did anny man iver shoot at ye with annything but +a siltzer bottle? Did ye iver have to lay on ye'er stummick with ye'er +nose burrid in th' Lord knows what while things was whistlin' over ye +that, if they iver stopped whistlin', 'd make ye'er backbone look like +a broom? Did ye iver see a man that ye'd slept with th' night before +cough, an' go out with his hands ahead iv his face? Did ye iver have +to wipe ye'er most intimate frinds off ye'er clothes, whin ye wint +home at night? Where was he durin' th' war?' he says. 'He was +dhrivin' a grocery wagon f'r Philip Reidy,' says I. 'An' what's he +makin' th' roar about?' says th' little man. 'He don't want anny wan +to get onto him,' says I. +</p> + +<p> +"O'Toole was gone be this time, an' th' little man laned over th' bar. +'Now,' says he, 'what d'ye think iv a gazabo that don't want a +monniment put over some wan? Where is this here pole? I think I'll +go out an' take a look at it. Where 'd ye say th' la-ad come fr'm? +Donaldson? I was there. There was a man in our mess—a Wicklow man be +th' name iv Dwyer—that had th' best come-all-ye I iver heerd. It wint +like this,' an' he give it to me." +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="tragedy"></a> +<p class="title">THE TRAGEDY OF THE AGITATOR. +</p> + + +<p> +"Whin ye come up, did ye see Dorgan?" asked Mr. Dooley. +</p> + +<p> +"Which Dorgan?" asked Mr. McKenna. +</p> + +<p> +"Why, to be sure, Hugh O'Neill Dorgan, him that was sicrety iv Deerin' +Shtreet branch number wan hundred an' eight iv th' Ancient Ordher iv +Scow Unloaders, him that has th' red lambrequin on his throat, that +married th' second time to Dinnihy's aunt an' we give a shivaree to +him. Hivins on earth, don't ye know him?" +</p> + +<p> +"I don't," said Mr. McKenna; "and, if I know him, I haven't seen him." +</p> + +<p> +"Thin ye missed a sight," said Mr. Dooley. "He's ragin' an' tearin'. +He have been a great union man. He'd sthrike on th' moment's +provocation. I seen him wanst, whin some scow unloaders sthruck in +Lemont or some other distant place, put on his coat, lay down his +shovel, an' go out, be hivins, alone. Well, his son goes an' jines th' +Sivinth Rig'mint; an', by gar, th' ol' man, not knowin' about th' +army, he's that proud that he sthruts up an' down th' sthreet with his +thumb in th' vest iv him an' give his son a new shovel, for they was +wurrukin' together on th' scow 'Odelia Ann.' Well, whin th' sthrike +come along, iv coorse th' scow unloaders quits; an' Dorgan an' th' +la-ad goes out together, because they're dhrawin' good wages an' th' +crick do be full iv men r-ready f'r to take their places. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, Dorgan had th' divvle's own time paradin' up an' down an' +sindin' out ordhers to sthrike to ivry man he knowed of till th' la-ad +comes over las' Choosdah avenin', dhressed in his rigimintals with a +gun as long as a clothes-pole over his shoulder. 'Hughey,' said th' +father, 'you look very gran' to-night,' he says. 'Whose fun'ral ar-re +ye goin' to at this hour?' 'None but thim I makes mesilf,' says he. +'What d'ye mean?' says th' ol' man. 'I'm goin' over f'r to stand guard +in th' thracks,' says th' la-ad. Well, with that th' ol' man leaps up. +'Polisman,' he says. 'Polisman,' he says. 'Copper,' he says. 'Twas +on'y be Mrs. Dorgan comin' in an' quitein' th' ol' man with a chair +that hostilities was averted—as th' pa-apers says—right there an' +thin. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, sir, will ye believe me, whin Dorgan wint over with th' mimbers +iv' th' union that night f'r to bur-rn something, there was me brave +Hughey thrampin' up an' down like a polisman on bate. Dorgan goes up +an' shakes his fist at him, an' th' la-ad gives him a jab with his +bayonet that makes th' poor ol' man roar like a bull. 'In th' name iv +th' people iv th' State iv Illinys,' he says, 'disperse,' he says, 'ye +riter,' he says; 'an', if ye don't go home,' he says, 'ye ol' +omadhon,' he says, 'I'll have ye thrun into jail,' he says. +</p> + +<p> +"Dorgan haven't got over it yet. It dhruv him to a sick-bed." +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="boyne"></a> +<p class="title">BOYNE WATER AND BAD BLOOD. +</p> + + +<p> +"Jawn," said Mr. Dooley to Mr. McKenna, "what did th' Orangeys do +to-day?" +</p> + +<p> +"They had a procession," said Mr. McKenna. +</p> + +<p> +"Was it much, I dinnaw?" +</p> + +<p> +"Not much." +</p> + +<p> +"That's good," said Mr. Dooley. "That's good. They don't seem to be +gettin' anny sthronger, praise be! Divvle th' sthraw do I care f'r +thim. They niver harmed hair nor head iv me; an' they ain't likely to, +ayether, so long as th' R-road keeps th' way it is. Faith, 'twud be a +fine pot iv porridge th' like iv thim 'd ate if they come up into +Ar-rchey Road. I'm an ol' man, Jawn,—though not so ol' at that,—but +I'd give tin years iv me life to see an Orange procession west on +Ar-rchey Road with th' right flank restin' on Halsthed Sthreet. It 'd +rest there. Th' Lord knows it wud. +</p> + +<p> +"Jawn, I have no dislike to th' Orangeys. Nawthin' again thim. I'd not +raise me hand to thim, I wud not, though me cousin Tim was kilt be wan +iv thim dhroppin' a bolt on his skull in th' ship-yards in Belfast. +'Twas lucky f'r that there Orangey he spoke first. Me cousin Tim had a +ship-ax in his hand that'd 've evened things up f'r at laste wan iv +th' poor pikemen that Sarsfield had along with him. But I've nawthin' +again thim at that but th' wan that kilt Tim. I'd like to meet that +lad in some quite place like th' Clan-na-Gael picnic on th' fifteenth +iv August, some place where we'd have fair play. +</p> + +<p> +"Jawn, live an' let live is me motto. On'y I say this here, that 'tis +a black disgrace to Chicago f'r to let th' likes iv thim thrapze about +th' sthreets with their cheap ol' flags an' ribbons. Oh dear, oh dear, +if Pathrick's Day on'y come some year on' th' twelfth day iv July! +Where 'd they be, where 'd they be? +</p> + +<p> +"D'ye know things is goin' to th' dogs in this town, Jawn, avick? Sure +they are, faith. I mind th' time well whin an Orangey 'd as lave go +through hell in a celluloid suit as march in this here town on the +twelfth iv July. I raymimber wanst they was a man be th' name iv +Morgan Dempsey,—a first cousin iv thim Dempseys that lives in Cologne +Sthreet,—an' he was a Roscommon man, too, an' wan iv th' cutest +divvles that iver breathed th' breath iv life. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, whin th' day come f'r th' Orangeys to cillybrate th' time whin +King Willum—may th' divvle hould him!—got a stand-off,—an' 'twas no +betther, Jawn, f'r th' Irish'd 've skinned him alive if th' poor ol' +gaby iv an English king hadn't ducked—What's that? Don't I know it? I +have a book at home written be an impartial historyan, Pathrick Clancy +Duffy, to prove it. What was I sayin'? Whin' th' twelfth day iv July +come around an' th' Orangeys got ready to cillybrate th' day King +Willum, with all his Gatlin' guns an' cannon, just barely sthud off +Sarsfield an' his men that had on'y pikes an' brickbats an' billyard +cues, th' good people was infuryated. I dinnaw who was th' mayor in +thim days. He was niver ilicted again. But, annyhow, he give it out +that th' Orangeys' procission must not be hurted. An' all th' +newspapers asked th' good people to be quite, an' it was announced at +high mass an' low mass that annywan that sthruck a blow 'd be +excommunicated. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, ye know how it is whin modheration is counselled, Jawn. +Modheration is another name f'r murdheration. So they put two platoons +iv polismen in front iv th' Orangeys an' three behind, an' a double +column alongside; an' away they wint. +</p> + +<p> +"No wan intherfered with thim; an' that didn't plaze Morgan Dempsey, +who 'd served his time a calker in a ship-yard. Bein' iv a injaneyous +disposition, he made up his mind f'r to do something to show that +pathrietism wasn't dead in this counthry. So he got up in a hallway in +Washington Sthreet, an' waited. Th' procission come with th' polismen +in front an' behind an' along th' sides, an' th' German Band, thryin' +to keep wan eye on the house-tops on both sides iv th' sthreet, an' to +read th' music iv c Lillibullero' an' 'Croppies lie down' an' 'Boyne +Wather' with th' other. Th' Orangeys didn't look up. They kept their +eyes pointed sthraight ahead, I'll say that f'r thim. They're +murdherin' vilyans; but they're Irish, iv a sort. +</p> + +<p> +"Whin they come by Dempsey, he pokes his head out iv th' dure; an' +says he, 'Th' 'ell with all th' Prowtestant bishops.' Now that same +over in Derry 'd have had all th' tilin's in town flyin'; but th' +Orangeys 'd been warned not to fight, an' they wint sthraight on, on'y +they sung 'Lillibullero.' Did ye niver hear it? It goes <i>(singing)</i> +'Ho! Brother Teigue, dost hear in th' degree?' +</p> + +<p> +"Th' Lord f'rgive me f'r singin' it, Jawn. See if there's anny wan +near th' dure. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, whin they got through, Dempsey puts his hands to his mouth, an' +yells, 'Th' 'ell with King Willum.' That was more thin th' Orangeys +cud stand. They halted as wan man, an' roared out, 'Th' 'ell with th' +pope.' 'What's that?' says th' captain iv th' polis foorce. He was a +man be th' name of Murphy, an' he was blue with rage f'r havin' to +lead th' Orangeys. 'Ma-arch on, Brass Money,' says th' Orange marshal. +Murphy pulled him fr'm his horse; an' they wint at it, club an' club. +Be that time th' whole iv th' line was ingaged. Ivry copper belted an +Orangey; an' a sergeant named Donahue wint through a whole lodge, +armed on'y, Jawn, with a clarinet an' wan cymbal. He did so. An' +Morgan Dempsey, th' cute divvle, he sthood by, an' encouraged both +sides. F'r, next to an Orangey, he likes to see a polisman kilt. That +ended wan Orangey parade. +</p> + +<p> +"Not that I think it was right. I suppose they ought to be left walk +about, an' I'm a fair man. If th' blackest iv thim wint by now, I'd +not raise me hand"— +</p> + +<p> +"Hello," says Mr. McKenna, "here goes Killen, the Armagh man. They say +he digs with his left foot." +</p> + +<p> +"Jawn," said Mr. Dooley, eagerly, "if ye run up on th' roof, ye 'll +find th' bricks loose in th' top row iv th' chimbley. Ye might hand +him a few." +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="freedom"></a> +<p class="title">THE FREEDOM PICNIC. +</p> + + +<p> +"There's wan thing about th' Irish iv this town," said Mr. Dooley. +</p> + +<p> +"The police?" said Mr. McKenna. +</p> + +<p> +"No," said the philosopher. "But they give picnics that does bate all. +Be hivins, if Ireland cud be freed be a picnic, it 'd not on'y be free +to-day, but an impire, begorra, with Tim Haley, th' Banthry man, +evictin' Lord Salisbury fr'm his houldin'. 'Twud that. +</p> + +<p> +"Jawn, th' la-ads have got th' thrick iv freein' Ireland down to a +sinsible basis. In th' ol' days they wint over with dinnymite bumbs in +their pockets, an' ayether got their rowlers on thim in Cork an' blew +thimsilves up or was arristed in Queenstown f'r disordherly conduct. +'Twas a divvle iv a risky job to be a pathrite in thim days, an' none +but those that had no wan dipindint on thim cud affoord it. But what +was th' use? Ireland wint on bein' th' same opprissed green oil it had +always been, an' th' on'y difference th' rivolutions made was ye sa-aw +new faces on th' bridges an' th' Wolfe Tones passed another set iv +resolutions. +</p> + +<p> +"'Tis different now. Whin we wants to smash th' Sassenach an' restore +th' land iv th' birth iv some iv us to her thrue place among th' +nations, we gives a picnic. 'Tis a dam sight asier thin goin' over +with a slug iv joynt powder an' blowin' up a polis station with no wan +in it. It costs less; an', whin 'tis done, a man can lep aboord a +sthreet ca-ar, an' come to his family an' sleep it off. +</p> + +<p> +"I wint out last Choosdah, an' I suppose I must 've freed as much as +eight counties in Ireland. All th' la-ads was there. Th' first ma-an I +see was Dorgan, the sanyor guarjeen in the Wolfe Tone Lithry Society. +He's th' la-ad that have made th' Prince iv Wales thrimble in his +moccasins. I heerd him wanst makin' a speech that near injooced me to +take a bumb in me hand an' blow up Westminsther Cathedral. 'A-re ye,' +he says, 'men, or a-re ye slaves?' he says. 'Will ye,' he says, 'set +idly by,' he says, 'while th' Sassenach,' he says, 'has th' counthry +iv Immitt an' O'Connell,' he says, 'an' Jawn Im Smyth,' he says, +'undher his heel?' he says. 'Arouse,' he says, 'slaves an' despots!' +he says. 'Clear th' way!' he says. 'Cowards an' thraitors!' he says. +'Faugh-a-ballagh!' he says. He had th' beer privilege at th' picnic, +Jawn. +</p> + +<p> +"Hinnissy, th' plumber, who blew wan iv his fingers off with a bumb +intinded f'r some iv th' archytecture iv Liverpool, had th' conthract +f'r runnin' th' knock-th'-babby-down-an'-get-a-nice-seegar jint. F'r +th' good iv th' cause I knocked th' babby down, Jawn, an' I on'y wish +th' Queen iv England 'r th' Prince iv Wales cud be injooced to smoke +wan iv th' seegars. Ye might as well go again a Roman candle. Th' wan +I got was made iv baled hay, an' 'twas rumored about th' pa-ark that +Hinnissy was wurrukin' off his surplus stock iv bumbs on th' +pathrites. His cousin Darcey had th' shootin' gallery privilege, an' +he done a business th' like iv which was niver knowed be puttin' up +th' figure iv an Irish polisman f'r th' la-ads to shoot at. 'Twas bad +in th' end though, f'r a gang iv Tipp'rary lads come along behind th' +tent an' begun thrown stones at th' copper. Wan stone hit a Limerick +man, an' th' cry 'butthermilk' wint around; an' be hivins, if it +hadn't been that th' chief iv polis, th' wise la-ad, sint none but +German polismen to th' picnic, there 'd not been a man left to tell th' +tale." +</p> + +<p> +"What's that all got to do with freeing Ireland?" asked Mr. McKenna. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, 'tis no worse off thin it was befure, annyhow," said Mr. +Dooley. +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="idle"></a> +<p class="title">THE IDLE APPRENTICE. +</p> + + +<p> +"They hanged a man to-day," said Mr. Dooley. +</p> + +<p> +"They did so," said Mr. McKenna. +</p> + +<p> +"Did he die game?" +</p> + +<p> +"They say he did." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, he did," said Mr. Dooley. "I read it all in th' pa-apers. He +died as game as if he was wan iv th' Christyan martyrs instead iv a +thief that 'd hit his man wan crack too much. Saint or murdherer, 'tis +little difference whin death comes up face front. +</p> + +<p> +"I read th' story iv this man through, Jawn; an', barrin' th' hangin', +'tis th' story iv tin thousan' like him. D'ye raymimber th' Carey kid? +Ye do. Well, I knowed his grandfather; an' a dacinter ol' man niver +wint to his jooty wanst a month. Whin he come over to live down be th' +slip, 'twas as good a place as iver ye see. Th' honest men an' honest +women wint as they pleased, an' laid hands on no wan. His boy Jim was +as straight as th' r-roads in Kildare, but he took to dhrink; an', +whin Jack Carey was born, he was a thramp on th' sthreets an' th' good +woman was wurrukin' down-town, scrubbin' away at th' flures in th' +city hall, where Dennehy got her. +</p> + +<p> +"Be that time around th' slip was rough-an'-tumble. It was dhrink an' +fight ivry night an' all day Sundah. Th' little la-ads come together +under sidewalks, an' rushed th' can over to Burke's on th' corner an' +listened to what th' big lads tol' thim. Th' first instruction that +Jack Carey had was how to take a man's pocket handkerchief without his +feelin' it, an' th' nex' he had was larnin' how to get over th' fence +iv th' Reform School at Halsted Sthreet in his stockin' feet. +</p> + +<p> +"He was a thief at tin year, an' th' polis 'd run f'r him if he'd +showed his head. At twelve they sint him to th' bridewell f'r breakin' +into a freight car. He come out, up to anny game. I see him whin he +was a lad hardly to me waist stand on th' roof iv Finucane's Hall an' +throw bricks at th' polisman. +</p> + +<p> +"He hated th' polis, an' good reason he had f'r it. They pulled him +out iv bed be night to search him. If he turned a corner, they ran him +f'r blocks down th' sthreet. Whin he got older, they begun shootin' at +him; an' it wasn't manny years befure he begun to shoot back. He was +right enough whin he was in here. I cud conthrol him. But manny th' +night whin he had his full iv liquor I've see him go out with his gun +in his outside pocket; an' thin I'd hear shot after shot down th' +sthreet, an' I'd know him an' his ol' inimy Clancy 'd met an' was +exchangin' compliments. He put wan man on th' polis pension fund with +a bullet through his thigh. +</p> + +<p> +"They got him afther a while. He'd kept undher cover f'r months, +livin' in freight cars an' hidin' undher viadocks with th' pistol in +his hand. Wan night he come out, an' broke into Schwartzmeister's +place. He sneaked through th' alley with th' German man's damper in +his arms, an' Clancy leaped on him fr'm th' fence. Th' kid was tough, +but Clancy played fut-ball with th' Finerty's on Sundah, an' was +tougher; an', whin th' men on th' other beats come up, Carey was +hammered so they had to carry him to th' station an' nurse him f'r +trile. +</p> + +<p> +"He wint over th' road, an' come back gray an' stooped, I was afraid +iv th' boy with his black eyes; an' wan night he see me watchin' him, +an' he says: 'Ye needn't be afraid,' he says. 'I won't hurt ye. Ye're +not Clancy,' he says, +</p> + +<p> +"I tol' Clancy about it, but he was a brave man; an' says he: ''Tis +wan an' wan, an' a thief again an' honest man. If he gets me, he must +get me quick.' Th' nex' night about dusk he come saunterin' up th' +sthreet, swingin' his club an' jokin with his frind, whin some wan +shouted, 'Look out, Clancy.' He was not quick enough. He died face +forward, with his hands on his belt; an' befure all th' wurruld Jack +Carey come across th' sthreet, an' put another ball in his head. +</p> + +<p> +"They got him within twinty yards iv me store. He was down in th' +shadow iv th' house, an' they was shootin' at him fr'm roofs an' +behind barns. Whin he see it was all up, he come out with his eyes +closed, firin' straight ahead; an' they filled him so full iv lead he +broke th' hub iv th' pathrol wagon takin' him to th' morgue." +</p> + +<p> +"It served him right," said Mr. McKenna. +</p> + +<p> +"Who?" said Mr. Dooley. "Carey or Clancy?" +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="obriens"></a> +<p class="title">THE O'BRIENS FOREVER. +</p> + + +<p> +"I think, by dad," said Mr. Dooley, "that Hinnissy's crazy." +</p> + +<p> +"I always thought so," said Mr. McKenna, amiably. "But what's he been +doin' of late?" +</p> + +<p> +"Well, I took him down to see th' good la-ads havin' fun with th' +opprissors iv th' people at th' Colliseem,' said Mr. Dooley. "I had no +ticket, an' he had none. Th' frinds iv honest money had give thim all +to Jawn P. Hopkins's la-ads. They're frinds iv honest money, whin +they'se no other in sight. But I'd like to see anny goold-bug or +opprissor iv th' people keep th' likes iv me an' Hinnissy out iv a +convintion. We braced up to wan iv th' dures, an' a man stopped +Hinnissy. 'Who ar-re ye?' he says. "I am a Dimmycrat,' says Hinnissy. +'Is ye'er name Hill?' says th' la-ad. 'It is not,' says Hinnissy. 'I +tol' ye I'm a Dimmycrat; an',' he says, 'I'll have no man call me out +iv me name.' Hinnissy was f'r rollin' him on th' flure there an' thin +f'r an insult, but I flagged a polisman. 'Is ye'er name Sullivan?' +says I. 'It is,' says he. 'Roscommon?' says I, fr'm th' way he spoke. +'Sure ye're right,' he says. 'Me name's Dooley,' I says. 'Here,' say +he to th' dure-keeper, 'don't stand in th' way iv th' sinitor iv th' +State iv Mitchigan,' he says. 'Lave him an' his frind go in,' he says. +I minded afther I was good to him whin Simon O'Donnell was chief iv +polis, may he rest in peace! +</p> + +<p> +"Hinnissy an' me got a seat be some dhroll ol' boys fr'm out in Iaway. +Afther a man be th' name iv Martin, a sergeant-iv-arms, had addhressed +th' meetin' twinty or thirty times,—I kep no count iv him,—th' +chairman inthrojooced th' dillygates to nommynate th' big men. It wint +all right with Hinnissy for a little while till a man got up an' shook +his fist at th' chairman. 'What's that? what's that?' says Hinnissy. +'What's that?' he says. 'Hurroo, hurroo,' he says, lammin' th' man +fr'm Iaway with his goold-headed cane. 'What ails ye, man alive?' says +I. 'Why,' he says, 'they've nommynated Billy,' he says. 'Billy who?' +says I. 'Why, Willum J. O'Brien,' he says. +</p> + +<p> +"'A sthrong man,' says he, addhressin' th' man fr'm Iaway. 'I shud say +he was,' says th' man. 'Th' sthrongest man that iver come down th' +road,' says Hinnissy. 'Why,' he says, 'I see that man put up an' eight +iv beer with wan hand,' he says, 'holdin' it be th' rim,' he says. +'None sthronger,' he says. 'But will he carry Illinye?' says th' lad +fr'm Iaway. 'Will he carry Illinye?' says Hinnissy. 'Why, man alive,' +he says, 'I've see him carry a prim'ry in th' sixth precint,' he says. +'Is that enough f'r ye?' he says. 'He's a good speaker,' says th' +Iaway man. 'He is that,' says Hinnissy; 'an' he was wan iv th' best +waltzers that flung a foot at th' County Dimocracy picnic,' he says. +'But will he make a good fight?' says th' man. 'Will he?' says +Hinnissy. 'Will he make a good fight?' he says. 'Dooley,' he says, +'this here Dimmycrat wants to know if Bill 'll make a good fight. Why,' +he says, 'if he iver gets to Washington an' wan iv th' opprissors iv +th' people goes again him, give him Jackson Park or a clothes closet, +gun or soord, ice-pick or billyard cue, chair or stove leg, an' +Bill 'll make him climb a tree,' he says. 'I'd like to see wan iv thim +supreme justices again Bill O'Brien on an income tax or anny other +ord-nance,' he says. 'He'd go in an' lame thim with th' Revised +Statutes.' 'I presume,' says th' lad, 'that ye'er fr'm Omaha.' 'I'll +tear ye'er hair out,' says Hinnissy.' +</p> + +<p> +"'Ye idjit,' says I, whin I had him in th' sthreet, 'it wasn't Bill +O'Brien was nommynated,' says I. 'What ar-re ye talkin' about?' says +he. 'I seen him on th' flure,' he says. 'He had th' sinitor iv +Missoury be th' throat whin ye took me away,' he says. +</p> + +<p> +"I left him there; but he come into th' place at six o'clock, an' +borrid a paper an' pencil. Thin he wint back, an' sat down an' wrote. +'What ar-re ye doin' there?' says I. 'I've wrote a sketch iv th' +nominee f'r th' Stock-yards Sun,' he says. 'Listen to it. Willum J. +O'Brien,' he says, 'was born in th' County iv Mayo forty years ago,' +he says. 'He received a limited education, his parents even thin +designin' him f'r th' Prisidincy. Bein' unable to complete a coorse at +th' rayform school, he wint to wurruk; but soon, tired iv this, he +started a saloon. Fr'm thince he dhrifted into politics, an' become +noted as th' boy welter-weight iv th' South Branch. He was ilicted +aldherman at a time whin comparatively nawthin' was doin' in th' +council. Subsequent he become a sinitor, an' later enthered into +partnership with th' Hon. Jawn Powers in th' retail liquor traffic. +Mr. O'Brien is a fine built man, an' can lick anny wan iv his age west +iv th' river, give 'r take tin pounds, color no bar. His heart bets up +close to th' ribs iv th' common people, an' he would make opprissors +iv th' poor wish they'd died early if ye give him a chance with a beer +bottle. How's that?' says Hinnissy. +</p> + +<p> +"'Worse,' says I. 'Foolish man,' says I. 'Don't ye know that it ain't +our Bill that's been nommynated?' I says. 'This is a Nebraska man,' I +says. 'Well,' he says, 'if 'tis Bill O'Brien, he'd win easy. But,' he +says, 'if 'tis not,' he says, ''tis wan iv th' fam'ly,' he says. 'I'll +change this here novel an' make it a sketch iv th' cousin iv th' +candydate,' he says. An' he wint on with his wurruk." +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="candidate"></a> +<p class="title">A CANDIDATE'S PILLORY. +</p> + + +<p> +"What's this counthry comin' to, annyhow, that a man that's out f'r to +be Prisident has to set up on a high chair an' be questioned on his +record be a lot iv la-ads that hasn't had annything to do since th' +carpetbeatin' season's ended? "said Mr. Dooley. "Ye'd think Big Bill +was r-runnin' f'r chief ex-icutive iv th' Clan-na-Gael. First along +comes a comity iv th' Sons iv Rest. 'Major,' says they, 'we're +insthructed be th' organization to ascertain ye'er views on th' +important, we may say all-important, question iv havin' wire +matthresses put on th' benches in th' parks. Are we,' they says, +'goin' f'r to have to wear lumps on our backs into all eternity,' they +says, 'an' have our slumbers broke be th' hot fut iv th' polisman?' +they says. 'We demand an answer,' they says, 'or, be this an' be that, +we won't do a thing to ye.' Well, maybe Bill has been down to th' +corner playin' a game iv spoil-five with his old frind Coalsack, an' +has paid no attintion to th' Sons iv Rest. 'Well,' he says, +'gintlemen, I'm in favor iv doin' ivrything in reason f'r th' hoboes,' +he says. 'Th' protection iv th' home hobo again th' pauper can trade +iv Europe,' he says, 'has been wan iv th' principal wurruks iv me +life,' he says; an' he gives thim each a hand out, an' bows thim to +th' dure. +</p> + +<p> +"In comes a dillygation fr'm th' Union iv Amalgamated Pantsmakers; an' +says th' chairman, 'Major,' he says, 'we have a complaint to make +again thim pants iv ye'ers,' he says. 'What's th' matter with th' +pants?' says th' future Prisident. 'I thought they looked all right,' +he says. 'I paid four dollars f'r thim in Bucyrus las' year,' he says. +'They have no union label on thim,' says th' chairman. 'Do you know, +sir,' he says, 'that thim pants riprisints th' oppression iv women an' +childher?' he says. 'D'ye know that ivry thread in thim seams means a +tear an' sigh?' says he. 'D'ye know that ivry time ye put on thim +pants ye take a pair off some down-throdden workman?' he says. 'Glory +be!' says Big Bill: 'is that thrue? Thin what am I to do?' he says in +alarm. 'Do?' says th' chairman. 'Wear pants that riprisints honest +toil fairly compinsated,' he says. 'Wear pants that 'll say to th' +wurruld that Bill McKinley's legs are fair legs;' he says, 'that they +may bow at th' knees, but they niver bow to th' opprissor,' he says; +'that niver did they wrap thimsilves in bags that bore th' curse iv +monno-poly an' greed,' he says. 'An' where can I get thim?' says th' +major, 'Fr'm me,' says th' frind iv labor, pullin' out a tape. 'Will +ye have wan or two hip pockets?' he says. +</p> + +<p> +"An' so it goes. Ivry day a rayporther comes to th' house with a list +iv questions. 'What are ye'er views on th' issue iv eatin' custard pie +with a sponge? Do ye believe in side-combs? If called upon to veto a +bill f'r all mimbers iv th' Supreme Coort to wear hoop-skirts, wud ye +veto it or wudden't ye? If so, why? If not, why not? If a batted ball +goes out iv th' line afther strikin' th' player's hands, is it fair or +who? Have ye that tired feelin'? What is your opinion iv a hereafther? +Where did you get that hat? If a man has eight dollars an' spends +twelve iv it, what will th' poor man do? An' why an' where an' how +much?' +</p> + +<p> +"Thin, if he don't answer, ivry wan says he's a thrimmer, an' ought to +be runnin' a sthreet-car an' not thryin' to poke his ondecided face +into th' White House. I mind wanst, whin me frind O'Brien was a +candydate f'r aldherman, a comity iv tax-payers waited on him f'r to +get his views on th' issues iv th' day. Big Casey, th' housemover, was +th' chairman; an' he says, says he, 'Misther O'Brien,' he says, 'we +are desirous,' he says, 'iv larnin' where ye stand on th' tariff, th' +currency question, pensions, an' th' intherstate commerce act,' he +says, with a wave iv his hand. 'Well,' says O'Brien, he says, 'th' +issue on which I'm appealin' to th' free an' intilligent suffrages of +Ar-rchey Road an' th' assistance iv Deerin' Sthreet Station,' he says, +'is whether little Mike Kelly will have th' bridge or not,' he says. +'On that I stand,' he says. 'As f'r th' minor issues,' he says, 'I may +have me opinions on thim an' I may not. Anny information I possess +I'll keep tucked away in this large an' commodjous mind cage, an' not +be dealin' it out to th' likes iv ye, as though I was a comity iv th' +Civic Featheration,' he says. 'Moreover,' he says, 'I'd like to know, +you, Casey, what business have you got comin' roun' to my house and +pryin' into my domestic affairs,' he says. ''Tis th' intherstate +commerce act now, but th' nex' thing 'll be where I got th' pianny,' +he says; 'an', f'r fear ye may not stop where ye are, here goes to +mount ye.' An' he climbed th' big man, an' rolled him. Well, sir will +ye believe me, ivry man on th' comity but wan voted f'r him. Casey was +still in bed iliction day. +</p> + +<p> +"I met Tom Dorsey afther th' comity called. 'Well,' says I, 'I heerd +ye was up to O'Brien's questionin' him on th' issues iv th' day,' I +says. 'We was,' says he. 'Was his answers satisfacthry?' says I. +'Perfectly so,' he says. 'Whin th' comity left, we were all convinced +that he was th' strongest man that cud be nommynated,' he says." +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="day"></a> +<p class="title">THE DAY AFTER THE VICTORY. +</p> + +<p> +"Jawn," said Mr. Dooley, "didn't we give it to thim?" +</p> + +<p> +"Give it to who?" asked Mr. McKenna. +</p> + +<p> +"To th' Dimmycrats," said Mr. Dooley. +</p> + +<p> +"Go on," said Mr. McKenna. "You're a Democrat yourself." +</p> + +<p> +"Me?" said Mr. Dooley, "not on your life. Not in wan hundherd thousand +years. Me a Dimmycrat? I shud say not, Jawn, me buck. I'm the hottest +kind iv a Raypublican, me an' Maloney. I suppose they ain't two such +Raypublicans annywhere. How can anny wan be annything else? Who was it +that saved the Union, Jawn? Who was it? Who are th' frinds iv th' +Irish? Who protecks th' poor wurrukin'man so that he'll have to go on +wurrukin'? We do, Jawn. We Raypublicans, by dad. +</p> + +<p> +"They ain't a Dimmycrat fr'm wan end iv th' road to th' other. I just +was over makin' a visit on Docherty, an' he'd took down th' picture +iv Jackson an' Cleveland an' put up wan iv Grant an' Lincoln. Willum +Joyce have come out f'r McKinley f'r Prisident, an' th' polisman on +th' beat told me las' night that th' left'nant told him that 'twas +time f'r a change. Th' Dimmycrats had rooned th' counthry with their +free trade an' their foreign policy an' their I dinnaw what, an' 'twas +high time an honest man got a crack at a down-town precinct with a +faro bank or two in it. Th' polisman agreed with him that Cleveland +have raised th' divvle with th' Constitootion; an', by gar, he's +right, too. He's right, Jawn. He have a boy in th' wather office. +</p> + +<p> +"Ye mind Maloney, th' la-ad with th' game eye? He tends a bridge over +be Goose Island way, but he was down here iliction day. Two weeks +before iliction day he was again Winter. 'He's no good,' he says. +'He's a Boohemian,' he says. 'An' whin they come to ilictin' +Boohemians f'r mayor,' he says, 'I'll go back to me ol' thrade iv +shovellin' mud,' he says. 'Besides,' says he, 'if this here Winter +wint in,' he says, 'ye cudden't stand acrost La Salle Street an' hand +him a peach on a window pole, he'd be that stuck up,' he says. +</p> + +<p> +"Some wan must 've spoke to him; f'r, whin he come in th' next time, +he says, 'They'se no use talkin',' he says, 'that there Dutchman is +sthrong,' he says. 'I thought he was a Boolgahrian,' says I. 'No,' +says he, 'he's a German man,' says he. 'An' th' Germans is with him to +th' bitther end,' he says. 'D'ye know,' he says, 'I believe he'll give +th' little bald-headed duck a run f'r his money,' he says. 'Thim +Germans stand together,' he says. 'They're th' most clannish people on +earth,' he says. 'I'm goin' over to th' Wolfe Tones to see what th' +la-ads think about it.' Sundah night he come an' give a ca-ard f'r +Winter to ivry man in th' place. 'He'll sweep th' town like a +whirlwind,' he says. 'They can't beat him.' 'Who?' says I. 'Winter, iv +coorse.' 'Is he a nice man?' says I. 'Wan iv th' finest men on earth,' +he says. 'A spoort, too,' he says. 'An' liberal.' +</p> + +<p> +"He was in here iliction day, an' I had Hinnissy's kid runnin' fr'm +th' station with rayturns. Maloney was talkin' to th' crowd an' buyin' +dhrinks. 'Ye'd be surprised,' says he, 'to know what a nice fellow +this here Winter is,' he says. 'Ye'd niver take him f'r a German,' he +says. 'He have no more accint thin mesilf.' The kid come in, an' says +he, 'Th' loot says tin precincts show Swift have a majority as big as +what th' Raypublicans got las' fall.' 'That's bad,' says I. 'Not at +all,' says Maloney. 'Thim's th' down-town wa-ards,' he says. 'Wait +till ye hear fr'm th' Germans,' he says. Th' nex' booletin said Swift +was gainin', an' had tin thousand majority. 'Niver mind,' says +Maloney. 'Th' Germans 'll wipe that out,' he says. Thin we heerd it +was twinty thousand f'r Swift. 'Glory be,' says Maloney, 'th' Germans +is slow comin' in,' he says. 'Maybe,' says I, 'they forgot to vote,' +says I. 'Maybe they're havin' a schootzenfist,' I says, 'an' are out +killin' clay pigeons instid iv attendin' to business,' I says. Just +thin th' loot come in. 'Well,' says he, ''tis quite a Waterloo,' says +he. 'F'r who?' says I. 'Oh,' he says, 'Swift got it be forty +thousand.' +</p> + +<p> +"Maloney wiped his face, and took off his hat an' swabbed it inside. +Thin says he: 'D'ye raymimber me meetin' ye down-town a week ago on +Dorney's place, loot?' he says. 'Yes,' says th' loot. 'D'ye mind what +I said thin?' he says, 'I don't call it just now,' says the loot. +'Well, I just come fr'm a meetin' iv th' Swift Marchin' Club, an' I +niver seen so much enthusyasm; an' I says to ye, I says: 'Loot,' I +says, 'Swift 'll bate him aisy,' I says. 'I knew he would fr'm th' +beginnin'. Ye take an' put up a good broad liberal man like George B., +a man that has frinds an' knows how to be a good fellow, an' run him +again a Boohemian gazabo who gives ivry man th' marble heart an' 'd +turn down his own brother, an' anny fool cud tell who 'd win. They'll +be some chance f'r a man with Swift over there; but, if this here +Winter wint in, ye cudden't stand acrost La Salle Sthreet an' hand him +a peach on th' end iv a window pole,' he says. +</p> + +<p> +"Will he lose his job? Not much, Jawn. That la-ad 'll be swingin' +bridges an' throwin' away th' crust iv his pie whin you an' me are +atin' ha-ard coal. He will that. But what do I care? Machs nix aus, +Jawn; an' that being translated manes, 'What th' 'ell.'" +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="visit"></a> +<p class="title">A VISIT TO JEKYL ISLAND. +</p> + + +<p> +"I'd like to been there," said Mr. Dooley. +</p> + +<p> +"Where's that?" Mr. Hennessy asked. +</p> + +<p> +"At Shekel Island," said Mr. Dooley, "seein' me frind Mack an' me +frind Tom Reed meetin' be th' sad sea waves. +</p> + +<p> +"Ye see, Mack was down there with Mark Hanna. He was tired out with +expandin', an' anxiety f'r fear me frind Alger 'd raysign; an' says +Hanna, he says, 'Come down,' he says, 'with me,' he says, 'to Shekel +Island,' he says. ''Tis th' home iv rayfinemint an' riches,' he says, +'where us millyionaires rest fr'm takin' care iv th' counthry,' he +says. 'There in th' shade iv th' coupon threes,' he says, 'we watch +th' sea waves, an' wondher,' he says, 'whin th' goold that's in thim +can be exthracted,' he says. 'They'se nawthin' to break th' silence,' +he says, 'but th' roarin' iv th' ocean,' he says; 'an' that sounds +nat'ral,' he says, 'because 'tis almost like th' sound iv th' stock +exchange,' he says. 'A man,' he says, 'that has th' ticker eye,' he +says, 'or th' coupon thumb,' he says, 'is cured in no time,' he says. +'Come,' he says, 'fly with me,' he says. 'They'se nawthin' to keep ye +here,' he says. 'Ivry wan iv th' cab'net, includin' th' Sicrety iv +War, 'll stick to his place,' he says, 'like a man,' he says. +</p> + +<p> +"An' Mack wint with him. He was settin' on th' beach in a goold chair, +surrounded be millyionaires, with th' prisident iv a bank fannin' him +an' th' threeasurer iv a dimon' mine poorin' his dhrink; an', though +he was feelin' well, they was something on his mind. 'What ails ye?' +ast Hanna. 'I was thinkin',' says Mack, 'how pleasant 'twud be if me +ol' frind Tom Reed was here,' he says. ''Twud be Paradise if he was +here,' he says, whin, lo an' behold, who shud come acrost th' +dimon'-studded beach, wadin' through th' bank-notes that 'd been +dropped be th' good farmers iv Shekel Island, but Tom Reed. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, sir, to see th' affection that those two great men showed at +th' encounther 'd dhraw tears fr'm th' eyes iv a hear-rt iv sthone. +'Tom,' says Mack, in faltherin' accints, 'where have ye been? F'r days +an' days I've skinned yon blue horizon f'r anny sign iv ye,' he says. +'An' ye come not,' he says. 'I didn't think I cud miss ye so,' he +says. 'Embrace me,' he says, 'if ye ar-re not ar-rmed,' he says. +'Mack,' says me frind Tom Reed, with tears in his eyes, 'this,' he +says, 'is th' happiest moment iv me life,' he says. 'I cudden't,' he +says, 'I cudden't stay in Wash'nton,' he says, 'with you so far away,' +he says, 'where I cudden't watch ye,' he says. 'Ye're th' on'y man +in th' wurruld I care f'r,' he says, 'but mesilf.' he says. 'An',' he +says, 'I'd fall weepin' on ye'er shoulder this minyit,' he says; 'but +I don't want to be disrayspectful be turnin' me back on Misther +Hanna,' he says. +</p> + +<p> +"'Well,' says Mack, 'sit down,' he says. 'Rockyfeller,' he says, 'tell +Morgan f'r to fetch up a kag iv sherry wine,' he says. 'Tom,' he +says, 'we've been frinds f'r years,' he says. 'We have,' says Tom. +'We've concealed it fr'm th' vulgar an' pryin' public,' he says; 'but +in our hear-rts we've been frinds, barrin' th' naygur dillygates at +th' convintion,' he says. ''Twas a mere incident,' says Mack. 'We've +been frinds,' he says; 'an' I've always wanted,' he says, 'to do +something f'r ye,' he says. 'Th' time has come,' he says, 'whin I can +realize me wish,' he says. 'I offer ye,' he says, 'th' Prisidincy, to +succeed me,' he says. 'No, no,' he says, 'I'll not be rayfused,' he +says. 'I'm tired iv it,' he says. ''Twas foorced on me be foolish +frinds,' he says; 'but I'm not th' man f'r th' place,' he says. 'I +haven't dhrawn a comfortable breath, not to speak iv salary, since I +wint in,' he says. +</p> + +<p> +"Th' speaker iv th' house burrid his face in his hands, an' sobs shook +him partly f'r manny minyits. Thin he raised his head, an' says he, +'Mack,' he says, 'I can't take it,' he says. ''Tis most gin'rous iv +ye,' he says, 'but me hear-rt fails me,' he says. 'What is it to be +Prisident?' says he. 'Th' White House,' he says, 'is a prison,' he +says, 'to which a man is condimned,' he says, 'f'r fine wurruk at th' +polls,' he says. 'Th' life iv a Prisident is slavery,' he says. 'If I +was to take th' job,' he says, 'I'd be tortured day an' night,' he +says, 'be th' fear iv assassination,' he says. 'Think,' he says, 'iv +some arnychist shootin' thirteen-inch shells at me,' he says, 'an' +maybe,' he says, 'dentin' me,' he says. 'No,' he says, 'I have a good +job where I am,' he says. 'All I've got to do,' he says, 'is to set up +at th' desk,' he says, 'an' not recall th' names iv th' gintlemen on +th' flure, an' me jooty's done,' he says. 'I thank ye kindly, Willum; +but I cannot accept ye'er gin'rous offer,' he says. 'Go back to th' +cell,' he says, 'an' slave like a convict,' he says. 'I will not rob +me frind,' he says, 'iv such an honor. But,' he says, 'tell me whin ye +thought iv throwin' up th' job, an' lavin' me br-reak into this +hateful prison,' he says. 'About th' year two thousan' an' eight, dear +frind,' says Mack. 'No, no,' says Tom Reed. 'I cannot accept it,' he +says, pressin' Mack's hand. ''Tis too much,' he says, 'an' too long,' +he says. +</p> + +<p> +"'I lave ye,' he says, 'but I'll call on ye,' he says. 'Take,' he +says, 'this little silver-mounted bottle iv broomo-caffeen,' he says, +'an' think iv me,' he says. 'I will,' says Mack. 'Ar-ren't ye tired iv +ye'er long journey?' he says. 'Wudden't ye like to take a bath in th' +shark pond before ye go?' he says. An' so they backed away fr'm each +other, th' tears rollin' down their cheeks. Frindship, Hinnissy, is a +sacred thing." +</p> + +<p> +"It is," said Mr. Hennessy, "if they are; but I don't b'lieve wan +wurrud ye tol' me." +</p> + +<p> +"Well," said Mr. Dooley, "if they ain't both frinds, wan iv thim is. +An', annyhow, I'm glad to know Tom Reed ain't thryin' to break into +jail." +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="slavin"></a> +<p class="title">SLAVIN CONTRA WAGNER. +</p> + + +<p> +"Ol' man Donahue bought Molly a pianny las' week," Mr. Dooley said in +the course of his conversation with Mr. McKenna. "She'd been takin' +lessons fr'm a Dutchman down th' sthreet, an' they say she can play as +aisy with her hands crossed as she can with wan finger. She's been +whalin' away iver since, an' Donahue is dhrinkin' again. +</p> + +<p> +"Ye see th' other night some iv th' la-ads wint over f'r to see +whether they cud smash his table in a frindly game iv forty-fives. I +don't know what possessed Donahue. He niver asked his frinds into the +parlor befure. They used to set in th' dining-room; an', whin Mrs. +Donahue coughed at iliven o'clock, they'd toddle out th' side dure +with their hats in their hands. But this here night, whether 'twas +that Donahue had taken on a dhrink or two too much or not, he asked +thim all in th' front room, where Mrs. Donahue was settin' with Molly. +'I've brought me frinds,' he says, 'f'r to hear Molly take a fall out +iv th' music-box,' he says. 'Let me have ye'er hat, Mike,' he says. +'Ye'll not feel it whin ye get out,' he says. +</p> + +<p> +"At anny other time Mrs. Donahue 'd give him th' marble heart. But they +wasn't a man in th' party that had a pianny to his name, an' she knew +they'd be throuble whin they wint home an' tould about it. ''Tis a +mel-odjious insthrument,' says she. 'I cud sit here be the hour an' +listen to Bootoven and Choochooski,' she says. +</p> + +<p> +"'What did thim write?' says Cassidy. 'Chunes,' says Donahue, 'chunes: +Molly,' he says, 'fetch 'er th' wallop to make th' gintlemen feel +good,' he says. 'What 'll it be, la-ads?' 'D'ye know "Down be th' +Tan-yard Side"?' says Slavin. 'No,' says Molly. 'It goes like this,' +says Slavin. 'A-ah, din yadden, yooden a-yadden, arrah yadden ay-a.' +'I dinnaw it,' says th' girl. ''Tis a low chune, annyhow,' says Mrs. +Donahue. 'Misther Slavin ividintly thinks he's at a polis picnic,' she +says. 'I'll have no come-all-ye's in this house,' she says. 'Molly, +give us a few ba-ars fr'm Wagner.' 'What Wagner's that?' says +Flannagan. 'No wan ye know,' says Donahue; 'he's a German musician.' +'Thim Germans is hot people f'r music,' says Cassidy. 'I knowed wan +that cud play th' "Wacht am Rhine" on a pair iv cymbals,' he says, +'Whisht!' says Donahue. 'Give th' girl a chanst.' +</p> + +<p> +"Slavin tol' me about it. He says he niver heerd th' like in his born +days. He says she fetched th' pianny two or three wallops that made +Cassidy jump out iv his chair, an' Cassidy has charge iv th' steam +whistle at th' quarry at that. She wint at it as though she had a +gredge at it. First 'twas wan hand an' thin th' other, thin both +hands, knuckles down; an' it looked, says Slavin, as if she was goin' +to leap into th' middle iv it with both feet, whin Donahue jumps up. +'Hol' on!' he says. 'That's not a rented pianny, ye daft girl,' he +says. 'Why, pap-pah,' says Molly, 'what d'ye mean?' she says. 'That's +Wagner,' she says. ''Tis th' music iv th' future,' she says. 'Yes,' +says Donahue, 'but I don't want me hell on earth. I can wait f'r it,' +he says, 'with th' kind permission iv Mrs. Donahue,' he says. 'Play us +th' "Wicklow Mountaineer,"' he says, 'an' threat th' masheen kindly,' +he says, 'She'll play no "Wicklow Mountaineer,"' says Mrs. Donahue. +'If ye want to hear that kind iv chune, ye can go down to Finucane's +Hall,' she says, 'an' call in Crowley, th' blind piper,' she says. +'Molly,' she says, 'give us wan iv thim Choochooski things,' she said. +'They're so ginteel.' +</p> + +<p> +"With that Donahue rose up. 'Come on,' says he. 'This is no place f'r +us,' he says. Slavin, with th' politeness iv a man who's gettin' even, +turns at th' dure. I'm sorry I can't remain,' he says. 'I think th' +wurruld an' all iv Choochooski,' he says. 'Me brother used to play his +chunes,' he says,—'me brother Mike, that run th' grip ca-ar,' he +says. 'But there's wan thing missin' fr'm Molly's playing', he says. +'And what may that be?' says Mrs. Donahue. 'An ax,' says Slavin, +backin' out. +</p> + +<p> +"So Donahue has took to dhrink." +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="grand"></a> +<p class="title">GRAND OPERA. +</p> + + +<p> +"Jawn," said Mr. Dooley, "'tis a gr-reat thing to be a polisman. Me +frind Doheny, what used to be at Deerin' Sthreet, have got on th' +crossin' an' they've planted him down be th' Audjitooroom. He was up +here las' week, an' says he, 'Run in, an' look at th' op'ra,' says he. +'Run in, an' take a flash iv it,' he says. ''Tis gr-reat,' he says. So +I takes Duggan, an' we goes down together. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, Doheny does be gr-reat paper with thim. He was standin' be th' +dure, with white gloves over his hands; an', whin we come, he give th' +office to th' la-ad on th' gate, an' says th' la-ad, 'Sure thing,' he +says. 'Sure thing,' an' in we goes. They was a lot iv Gazoorios there, +some iv thim settin' in seats an' some iv thim in bur-rd cages up +above, an' more standin'. Thim standin' was th' la-ads that Doheny +rushed in. Ye niver see such a lot iv thim,—Cassidy, O'Regan, Hogan, +Mulcahey, Shay, Mullaney, Mullvihill, an' th' eight O'Neills,—all +sint through be Doheny without cridintials. Sure, it looked like a +meetin' iv th' Wolf Tones. It did that. +</p> + +<p> +"Th' op'ra was on whin we wint in, an' they was whalin' away in +Eyetallian. Duggan listened; an' says he, 'What's the man sayin'?' he +says. 'I dinnaw,' I says. 'He's talkin' Chinese, an',' says I, 'they're +goin' to sind him to th' laundhry,' says I. 'Look,' I says. 'They're +puttin' him in th' clothes-basket,' I says. 'If they do,' says he, +'he'll niver come back,' he says, 'or else he'll have another name,' +he says. 'Let's buy a scoor ca-ard,' says he. So he bought wan, an' +was r-readin' it an' lookin' over th' top iv it at th' women in th' +boxes, an' wondhrin' why some wan didn't tell thim their dhresses was +slippin' down, whin over comes Cassidy, and says he, 'What's th' news +in th' Sixth?' 'Nawthin,' says Duggan. 'Will O'Brien win?' says +Cassidy. 'They can't beat him,' says Duggan. 'I dinnaw,' says Cassidy. +'Come over here, an' I'll tell ye,' says Duggan. Dinny Shay an' Hogan +an' Mullaney jined us, an' we wint an' set on the steps. +</p> + +<p> +"'Can Winter beat Swift?' says Shay. 'I'd like to know,' says Hogan. +'I don't know who to vote f'r,' he says; 'an' Mike is in th' wather +office,' he says. ''Tis a cinch Hinky 'll win out in th' First,' says +Mullaney. 'He have a sthrong man again him,' says Hogan. 'Gleason have +wan or two lodgin'-houses.' 'Three,' says Shay; 'but Hinkey knows all +th' lodgers,' he says. ''Twas a mane thing th' main guy done with +Callaghan,' says Hogan. 'What's that?' says Shay. 'Thrun him off th' +bridge,' says Hogan, 'because he come fr'm Kerry,' he says. 'I don't +believe wan wurrud iv it,' says Mullaney. 'They're more Kerry men on +bridges thin anny other counties,' he says. 'What has bet Hopkins,' he +says, 'is his frindship fr'm th' Mayo men,' he says. 'Th' Mayo men is +great f'r carryin' prim'ries, afther they're over,' he says. 'But did +anny wan iver hear iv thim doin' anny good whin th' votes was bein' +cast?' 'I knowed wan that did,' says Cassidy, as black as ye'er boot. +'His name was Cassidy,' he says; 'an' he done some good,' he says, 'be +privintin' a man be th' name iv Mullaney,' he says, 'fr'm bein' a +dilligate.' 'Ye had th' polis with ye,' says Mullaney. 'Ye was +supported be th' fire departmint,' says Cassidy. +</p> + +<p> +"'Let's change th' subject,' says Duggan, 'What show has Dorsey got in +th' Twinty-ninth? 'None at all,' says wan iv th' O'Neills who 'd come +over. 'He have th' Civic Featheration again him.' 'Who cares f'r th' +Civic Featheration?' says Mulcahey. 'They don't vote,' he says. +'What 'll kill Dorsey,' he says, 'is his bein' an Apee-a.' 'He's no +Apee-a,' says Mike O'Neill. 'I wint to th' Brothers' school with him,' +he says. 'Whiniver a man comes up that can't be downed anny way, he's +called an Apee-a,' he says. 'He's no more an Apee-a thin ye are,' he +says. 'D'ye mean to call me that?' says Mulcahey. 'Come out, an' have +a dhrink,' I says; an' we wint down. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, Jawn, we had wan iv th' liveliest political argumints ye iver +see without so much as a blow bein' sthruck. Evenly matched, d'ye +mind, with a chair f'r ivry man. An' th' bar-tinder was a frind iv +mine. I knowed him whin he was with Schwartzmeister. A good la-ad,—a +good lad." +</p> + +<p> +"But what about th' opera?" asked Mr. McKenna. +</p> + +<p> +"Th' op'ra wus gr-reat," said Mr. Dooley; "but I think Mulcahey was +right. Dorsey can't win." +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="church"></a> +<p class="title"> +THE CHURCH FAIR. +</p> + + +<p> +"Wanst I knew a man," said Mr. Dooley, laying down his newspaper, "be +th' name iv Burke, that come fr'm somewhere around Derry, though he +was no Presbyteryan. He was iv th' right sort. Well, he was feelin' +how-come-ye-so, an' he dhrifted over to where we was holdin' a fair. +They was a band outside, an' he thought it was a grand openin'. So he +come in with a cigar in th' side iv his mouth an' his hat hangin' onto +his ear. It was th' last night iv th' fair, an' ivrything was wide +open; f'r th' priest had gone home, an' we wanted f'r to break th' +record. This Burke was f'r lavin' whin he see where he was; but we run +him again th' shootin' gallery, where ye got twinty-five cints, a +quarther iv a dollar, f'r ivry time ye rang th' bell. Th' ol' gun we +had was crooked as a ram's horn, but it must 've fitted into Burke's +squint; f'r he made that there bell ring as if he was a conducthor iv +a grip-car roundin' a curve. He had th' shootin' gallery on its last +legs whin we run him again th' wheel iv fortune. He broke it. Thin we +thried him on th' grab-bag. They was four goold watches an' anny +quantity iv brickbats an' chunks iv coal in th' bag. He had four +dives, an' got a watch each time. He took a chanst on ivrything; an' +he won a foldin'-bed, a doll that cud talk like an old gate, a pianny, +a lamp-shade, a Life iv St. Aloysius, a pair iv shoes, a baseball bat, +an ice-cream freezer, an' th' pomes iv Mike Scanlan. +</p> + +<p> +"Th' comity was disthracted. Here was a man that 'd break th' fair, +an' do it with th' best iv humor; f'r he come fr'm another parish. So +we held a private session. 'What 'll we do?' says Dorgan, th' chairman. +They was a man be th' name iv Flaherty, a good man thin an' a betther +now; f'r he's dead, may he rest in peace! An' Flaherty says: 'We've +got to take th' bull be th' horns,' he says. 'If ye lave him to me,' +he says, 'I'll fix him,' he says. +</p> + +<p> +"So he injooced this man Burke to come down back iv th' shootin' +gallery, an' says he to Burke, 'Ye're lucky to-night.' 'Not so very,' +says Burke. ''Twud be a shame to lave ye get away with all ye won,' +says Flaherty. ''Twill be a great inconvanience,' says Burke. 'I'll +have to hire two or three dhrays,' he says; 'an' 'tis late.' 'Well,' +says Flaherty, 'I'm appinted be th' parish to cut th' ca-ards with +ye,' he says, 'whether ye're to give back what ye won or take what's +left.' ''Tis fair,' says Burke; 'an', whoiver wins, 'tis f'r a good +cause.' An' he puts th' watches an' th' money on th' table. +</p> + +<p> +"'High man,' says Flaherty. 'High man,' says Burke. Flaherty cut th' +king iv spades. Burke, th' robber, cut th' ace iv hearts. He was +reachin' out f'r th' money, whin Flaherty put his hands over it. 'Wud +ye take it?' says he. 'I wud,' says Burke. 'Wud ye rob th' church?' +says Flaherty. 'I wud,' says Burke. 'Thin,' says Flaherty, scoopin' it +in, 'ye're a heretic; an' they'se nawthin' comin' to ye.' +</p> + +<p> +"Burke looked at him, an' he looked at th' comity; an' he says, +'Gintlemen, if iver ye come over in th' Sixth Ward, dhrop in an' see +me,' he says. 'I'll thry an' make it plisint f'r ye,' he says. An' he +wint away. +</p> + +<p> +"Th' story got out, an' th' good man heerd iv it. He was mighty mad +about it; an' th' nex' sermon he preached was on th' evils iv +gamblin', but he asked Flaherty f'r to take up th' colliction." +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="wanderers"></a> +<p class="title">THE WANDERERS. +</p> + + +<p> +"Poor la-ads, poor la-ads," said Mr. Dooley, putting aside his +newspaper and rubbing his glasses. "'Tis a hard lot theirs, thim that +go down into th' sea in ships, as Shakespeare says. Ye niver see a +storm on th' ocean? Iv coorse ye didn't. How cud ye, ye that was born +away fr'm home? But I have, Jawn. May th' saints save me fr'm another! +I come over in th' bowels iv a big crazy balloon iv a propeller, like +wan iv thim ye see hooked up to Dempsey's dock, loaded with lumber an' +slabs an' Swedes. We watched th' little ol' island fadin' away behind +us, with th' sun sthrikin' th' white house-tops iv Queenstown an' +lightin' up th' chimbleys iv Martin Hogan's liquor store. Not wan iv +us but had left near all we loved behind, an' sare a chance that we'd +iver spoon th' stirabout out iv th' pot above th' ol' peat fire again. +Yes, by dad, there was wan,—a lad fr'm th' County Roscommon. Divvle +th' tear he shed. But, whin we had parted fr'm land, he turns to me, +an' says, 'Well, we're on our way,' he says. 'We are that,' says I. +'No chanst f'r thim to turn around an' go back,' he says. 'Divvle th' +fut,' says I. 'Thin,' he says, raisin' his voice, 'to 'ell with th' +Prince iv Wales,' he says. 'To 'ell with him,' he says. +</p> + +<p> +"An' that was th' last we see of sky or sun f'r six days. That night +come up th' divvle's own storm. Th' waves tore an' walloped th' ol' +boat, an' th' wind howled, an' ye cud hear th' machinery snortin' +beyant. Murther, but I was sick. Wan time th' ship 'd be settin' on +its tail, another it 'd be standin' on its head, thin rollin' over +cow-like on th' side; an' ivry time it lurched me stummick lurched +with it, an' I was tore an' rint an' racked till, if death come, it 'd +found me willin'. An' th' Roscommon man,—glory be, but he was +disthressed. He set on th' flure, with his hands on his belt an' his +face as white as stone, an' rocked to an' fro. 'Ahoo,' he says, 'ahoo, +but me insides has torn loose,' he says, 'an' are tumblin' around,' he +says. 'Say a pather an' avy,' says I, I was that mad f'r th' big +bosthoon f'r his blatherin'. 'Say a pather an' avy,' I says; f'r ye're +near to death's dure, avick.' 'Am I?' says he, raising up. 'Thin,' he +says, 'to 'ell with the whole rile fam'ly,' he says. Oh, he was a +rebel! +</p> + +<p> +"Through th' storm there was a babby cryin'. 'Twas a little wan, no +more thin a year ol'; an' 'twas owned be a Tipp'rary man who come fr'm +near Clonmel, a poor, weak, scarey-lookin' little divvle that lost his +wife, an' see th' bailiff walk off with th' cow, an' thin see him come +back again with th' process servers. An' so he was comin' over with +th' babby, an' bein' mother an' father to it. He'd rock it be th' hour +on his knees, an' talk nonsense to it, an' sing it songs, 'Aha, 'twas +there I met a maiden,' an' 'Th' Wicklow Mountaineer,' an' 'Th' Rambler +fr'm Clare,' an' 'O'Donnel Aboo,' croonin' thim in th' little babby's +ears, an' payin' no attintion to th' poorin' thunder above his head, +day an' night, day an' night, poor soul. An' th' babby cryin' out his +heart, an' him settin' there with his eyes as red as his hair, an' +makin' no kick, poor soul. +</p> + +<p> +"But wan day th' ship settled down steady, an' ragin' stummicks with +it; an' th' Roscommon man shakes himself, an' says, 'To 'ell with th' +Prince iv Wales an' th' Dook iv Edinboroo,' an' goes out. An' near all +th' steerage followed; f'r th' storm had done its worst, an' gone on +to throuble those that come afther, an' may th' divvle go with it. +'Twill be rest f'r that little Tipp'rary man; f'r th' waves was +r-runnin' low an' peaceful, an' th' babby have sthopped cryin'. +</p> + +<p> +"He had been settin' on a stool, but he come over to me. 'Th' storm,' +says I, 'is over. 'Twas wild while it lasted,' says I. 'Ye may say +so,' says he. 'Well, please Gawd,' says I, 'that it left none worse +off thin us.' 'It blew ill f'r some an' aise f'r others,' says he. +'Th' babby is gone.' +</p> + +<p> +"An' so it was, Jawn, f'r all his rockin' an' singin'. An' in th' +avnin' they burried it over th' side into th' sea. An' th' little man +see thim do it." +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="cabinet"></a> +<p class="title">MAKING A CABINET. +</p> + + +<p> +"I suppose, Jawn," said Mr. Dooley, "ye do be afther a governmint job. +Is it council to Athlone or what, I dinnaw?" +</p> + +<p> +"I haven't picked out the place yet," said Mr. McKenna. "Bill wrote me +the day after election about it. He says: 'John,' he says, 'take +anything you want that's not nailed to the wall,' he says. He heard of +my good work in the Twenty-ninth. We rolled up eight votes in Carey's +precinct, and had five of them counted; and that's more of a miracle +than carrying New York by three hundred thousand." +</p> + +<p> +"It is so," said Mr. Dooley. "It is f'r a fact. Ye must 've give the +clerks an' judges morphine, an' ye desarve great credit. Ye ought to +have a place; an' I think ye'll get wan, if there's enough to go round +among th' Irish Raypublicans. 'Tis curious what an effect an iliction +has on th' Irish Raypublican vote. In October an Irish Raypublican's +so rare people point him out on th' sthreet, an' women carry their +babies to see him. But th' day afther iliction, glory be, ye run into +thim ivrywhere,—on th' sthreet-car, in the sthreet, in saloons +principally, an' at th' meetin's iv th' Raypublican Comity. I've seen +as manny iv them as twinty in here to-day, an' ivry wan iv thim fit to +run anny job in th' governmint, fr'm directin' th' Departmint iv State +to carryin' ashes out an' dumpin thim in th' white lot. +</p> + +<p> +"They can't all have jobs, but they've got to be attinded to first; +an', whin Mack's got through with thim, he can turn in an' make up +that cabinet iv his. Thin he'll have throuble iv his own, th' poor +man, on'y comin' into fifty thousand a year and rint free. If 'twas +wan iv th' customs iv th' great raypublic iv ours, Jawn, f'r to +appoint th' most competent men f'r th' places, he'd have a mighty +small lot f'r to pick fr'm. But, seein' that on'y thim is iligible +that are unfit, he has th' divvle's own time selectin'. F'r Sicrety iv +State, if he follows all iv what Casey calls recent precidints, he's +limited to ayether a jack-leg counthry lawyer, that has set around +Washington f'r twinty years, pickin' up a dollar or two be runnin' +errands f'r a foreign imbassy, or a judge that doesn't know whether +th' city of Booloogne-sure-Mere, where Tynan was pinched, is in +Boolgahria or th' County Cavan. F'r Sicrety iv th' Threasury he has a +choice iv three kinds iv proud and incompetent fi-nanceers. He can +ayether take a bank prisident, that 'll see that his little bank an' +its frinds doesn't get th' worst iv it, or a man that cudden't +maintain th' par'ty iv a counthry dhry-good store long enough to stand +off th' sheriff, or a broken-down Congressman, that is full iv red +liquor half the year, an' has remorse settin' on his chest th' other +half. +</p> + +<p> +"On'y wan class is iligible f'r Attorney-gin'ral. To fill that job, a +man's got to be a first-class thrust lawyer. If he ain't, th' Lord +knows what 'll happen. Be mistake he might prosecute a thrust some day, +an' th' whole counthry 'll be rooned. He must be a man competint f'r to +avoid such pitfalls an' snares, so 'tis th' rule f'r to have him hang +on to his job with th' thrust afther he gets to Washington. This keeps +him in touch with th' business intherests. +</p> + +<p> +"F'r Sicrety iv War, th' most like wan is some good prisident iv a +sthreet-car company. 'Tis exthraordinney how a man learns to manage +military affairs be auditin' thrip sheets an' rentin' signs in a +sthreet-car to chewin' gum imporyums. If Gin'ral Washington iv sacred +mimory 'd been under a good sthreet-car Sicrety iv War, he'd 've wore +a bell punch to ring up ivry time he killed a Hessian. He wud so, an' +they'd 've kep' tab on him, an', if he thried to wurruk a brother-in-law +on thim, they'd give him his time. +</p> + +<p> +"F'r th' Navy Departmint ye want a Southern Congressman fr'm th' +cotton belt. A man that iver see salt wather outside iv a pork bar'l +'d be disqualified f'r th' place. He must live so far fr'm th' sea +that he don't know a capstan bar fr'm a sheet anchor. That puts him in +th' proper position to inspect armor plate f'r th' imminent Carnegie, +an' insthruct admirals that's been cruisin' an' fightin' an' dhrinkin' +mint juleps f'r thirty years. He must know th' difference bechune silo +an' insilage, how to wean a bull calf, an' th' best way to cure a +spavin. If he has that information, he is fixed f'r th' job. +</p> + +<p> +"Whin he wants a good Postmaster-gin-'ral, take ye'er ol' law partner +f'r awhile, an', be th' time he's larned to stick stamps, hist him +out, an' put in a school-teacher fr'm a part iv th' counthry where +people communicate with each other through a conch. Th' Sicrety iv th' +Interior is an important man. If possible, he ought to come fr'm Maine +or Florida. At anny rate, he must be a resident iv an Atlantic +seacoast town, an' niver been west iv Cohoes. If he gets th' idee +there are anny white people in Ann Arbor or Columbus, he loses his +job. +</p> + +<p> +"Th' last place on th' list is Sicrety iv Agriculture. A good, lively +business man that was born in th' First Ward an' moved to th' +Twinty-foorth after th' fire is best suited to this office. Thin he'll +have no prejudices against sindin' a farmer cactus seeds whin he's +on'y lookin' f'r wheat, an' he will have a proper understandin' iv th' +importance iv an' early Agricultural Bureau rayport to th' +bucket-shops. +</p> + +<p> +"No Prisident can go far away that follows Cleveland's cabinet +appintmints, although it may be hard f'r Mack, bein' new at th' +business, to select th' right man f'r th' wrong place. But I'm sure +he'll be advised be his frinds, an' fr'm th' lists iv candydates I've +seen he'll have no throuble in findin' timber." +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="old"></a> +<p class="title">OLD AGE. +</p> + + +<p> +"Skatin'," said Mr. Dooley, "was intinded f'r th' young an' gay. 'Tis +not f'r th' likes iv me, now that age has crept into me bones an' +whitened th' head iv me. Divvle take th' rheumatics! An' to think iv +me twinty years ago cuttin' capers like a bally dancer, whin th' +Desplaines backed up an' th' pee-raires was covered with ice fr'm th' +mills to Riverside. Manny's th' time I done th' thrick, Jawn, me an' +th' others; but now I break me back broachin' a kag iv beer, an' th' +height iv me daily exercise is to wind th' clock befure turnin' in, +an' count up th' cash." +</p> + +<p> +"You haven't been trying to skate?" Mr. McKenna asked in tones of +alarm. +</p> + +<p> +"Not me," said Mr. Dooley. "Not me, but Hinnissy have. Hinnissy, +th' gay young man; Hinnissy, th' high-hearted, divvle-may-care +sphread-th'-light,—Hinnissy's been skatin' again. May th' Lord give +that man sinse befure he dies! An' he needs it right away. He ain't +got long to live, if me cousin, Misther Justice Dooley, don't appoint +a garjeen f'r him. +</p> + +<p> +"I had no more thought whin I wint over with him that th' silly goat +'d thry his pranks thin I have iv flyin' over this here bar mesilf. +Hinnissy is—let me see how ol' Hinnissy is. He was a good foot taller +thin me th' St. John's night whin th' comet was in th' sky. Let me +see, let me see! Jawn Dorgan was marrid to th' widdy Casey (her that +was Dora O'Brien) in th' spring iv fifty-two, an' Mike Callahan wint +to Austhreelia in th' winter iv sixty. Hinnissy's oldest brother was +too old to inlist in th' army. Six an' thirty is thirty-six. Twict +thirty-six is sivinty-two, less eight is sixty-four, an' nine, carry +wan,—let me see. Well, Hinnissy is ol' enough to know betther. +</p> + +<p> +"We wint to th' pond together, an' passed th' time iv day with our +frinds an' watched th' boys an' girls playin' shinny an' sky-larkin' +hand in hand. They come separate, Jawn; but they go home together, +thim young wans. I see be his face Spoort Hinnissy was growin' +excited. 'Sure,' says he, 'there's nawthin' like it,' he says. +'Martin,' he says, 'I'll challenge ye to race,' he says. 'So ye will,' +says I. 'So ye will,' I says. 'Will ye do it?' says he. 'Hinnissy,' +says I, 'come home,' I says, 'an' don't disgrace ye'er gray hairs +befure th' whole parish,' says I. 'I'll have ye to know,' says he, +'that 'tis not long since I cud cut a double eight with anny wan in +Bridgeport,' he says. +</p> + +<p> +"At that Tom Gallagher's young fly-be-night joined in; an' says he, +'Misther Hinnissy,' he says, 'if ye'll go on,' he says, 'I'll fetch ye +a pair iv skates.' 'Bring thim along,' says Hinnissy. An' he put thim +on. Well, Jawn, he sthud up an' made wan step, an' wan iv his feet +wint that way an' wan this; an' he thrun his hands in th' air, an' +come down on his back. I give him th' merry laugh. He wint clear daft, +an' thried to sthruggle to his feet; an', th' more he thried, th' more +th' skates wint fr'm undher him, till he looked f'r all th' wurruld +like wan iv thim little squirrels that goes roun' on th' wheel in +Schneider's burrud store. +</p> + +<p> +"Gallagher's lad picked him up an' sthud him on his feet; an' says he, +politely, 'Come on,' he says, 'go roun' with me.' Mind ye, he took him +out to th' middle iv th' pond, Hinnissy movin' like a bridge horse on +a slippery thrack; an' th' lad shook him off, an' skated away. 'Come +back!' says Hinnissy. 'Come back!' he says. 'Tom, I'll flay ye alive +whin I catch ye on th' sthreet! Come here, like a good boy, an' help +me off. Dooley,' he roars to me, 'ain't ye goin' to do annything?' he +says. 'Ne'er a thing,' says I, 'but go home.' 'But how 'm I goin' to +cross?' he says. 'Go down on ye'er knees an' crawl,' says I. 'Foolish +man!' I says. An' he done it, Jawn. It took him tin minyits to get +down in sections, but he done it. An' I sthud there, an' waited f'r +him while he crawled wan block over th' ice, mutterin' prayers at ivry +fut. +</p> + +<p> +"I wint home with him aftherwards; an' what d'ye think he said? +'Martin,' says he, 'I've been a sinful man in me time; but I niver had +th' like iv that f'r a pinance,' he says. 'Think iv doin' th' stations +iv th' cross on th' ice,' he says. 'Hinnissy,' I says, 'they'se no +crime in th' catalogue akel to bein' old,' I says. 'Th' nearest thing +to it,' I says, 'is bein' a fool,' I says; 'an' ye're both,' I says." +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="divided"></a> +<p class="title">THE DIVIDED SKIRT. +</p> + + +<p> +"Jawn," said Mr. Dooley, "did ye iver hear th' puzzle whin a woman's +not a woman?" +</p> + +<p> +"Faith, I have," said Mr. McKenna. "When I was a kid, I knew the +answer." +</p> + +<p> +"Ye didn't know this answer," said Mr. Dooley. "Whin is a woman not a +woman? 'Twas give to me las' Satthurdah night be young Callaghan, th' +sthreet-car man that have all th' latest jokes that does be out. Whin +is a woman not a woman? mind ye. Whin's she's on a bicycle, by dad. +Yes, yes. Whin she's on a bicycle, Jawn. D'ye know Molly Donahue?" +</p> + +<p> +"I know her father," said Mr. McKenna. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, well, the dacint man sint his daughter Molly to have a convint +schoolin'; an' she larned to pass th' butther in Frinch an' to paint +all th' chiny dishes in th' cubb'rd, so that, whin Donahue come home +wan night an' et his supper, he ate a green paint ha-arp along with +his cabbage, an' they had to sind f'r Docthor Hinnissy f'r to pump th' +a-art work out iv him. So they did. But Donahue, bein' a quite man, +niver minded that, but let her go on with her do-se-does an' bought +her a bicycle. All th' bicycles th' poor man had himsilf whin he was +her age was th' dhray he used to dhrive f'r Comiskey; but he says, +'Tis all th' thing,' he says. 'Let th' poor child go her way,' he says +to his wife, he says. 'Honoria,' he says, 'she'll get over it.' +</p> + +<p> +"No wan knowed she had th' bicycle, because she wint out afther dark +an' practised on it down be th' dump. But las' Friday ev'nin', lo an' +behold, whin th' r-road was crowded with people fr'm th' brick-yards +an' th' gas-house an' th' mills, who shud come ridin' along be th' +thracks, bumpin' an' holdin' on, but Molly Donahue? An' dhressed! How +d'ye suppose she was dhressed? In pa-ants, Jawn avick. In pa-ants. Oh, +th' shame iv it! Ivry wan on th' sthreet stopped f'r to yell. Little +Julia Dorgan called out, 'Who stole Molly's dhress?' Ol' man Murphy +was settin' asleep on his stoop. He heerd th' noise, an' woke up an' +set his bull tarrier Lydia Pinkham on her. Malachi Dorsey, +vice-prisident iv th' St. Aloysius Society, was comin' out iv th' +German's, an' see her. He put his hands to his face, an' wint back to +th' house. +</p> + +<p> +"But she wint bumpin' on, Jawn, till she come up be th' house. Father +Kelly was standin' out in front, an' ol' man Donahue was layin' down +th' law to him about th' tariff, whin along come th' poor foolish girl +with all th' kids in Bridgeport afther her. Donahue turned white. 'Say +a pather an' avy quick,' he says to the priest. Thin he called out to +his wife. 'Honoria,' he says, 'bring a bar'l,' he says. 'Molly has +come away without annything on,' he says, 'but Sarsfield's pa-ants.' +Thin he turned on his daughter. 'May th' Lord forgive ye, Molly +Donahue,' he says, 'this night!' he says. 'Child, where is ye'er +dhress?' 'Tut, tut!' says th' good man. 'Molly,' he says, 'ye look +well on that there bicycle,' he says. 'But 'tis th' first time I ever +knowed ye was bow-legged,' he says, says th' soggarth aroon. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, sir, she wint into th' house as if she'd been shot fr'm a gun, +an' th' nex' mornin' I see Doheny's express wagon haulin' th' bicycle +away." +</p> + +<p> +"Didn't Father Kelly do anything about it?" asked Mr. McKenna. +</p> + +<p> +"No," replied Mr. Dooley. "There was some expicted she'd be read fr'm +th' altar at high mass, but she wasn't." +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="bit"></a> +<p class="title">A BIT OF HISTORY. +</p> + + +<p> +Mr. McKenna found Mr. Dooley standing at the end of his bargain +counter with the glasses on the tip of his nose. He was in deep +contemplation of a pile of green paper which he was thumbing over. +</p> + +<p> +"Jawn," said he, as Mr. McKenna walked over and looked on curiously, +"d'ye know a good man that I cud thrust to remodel th' shop?" +</p> + +<p> +"And what's got into you?" asked Mr. McKenna. +</p> + +<p> +"Im goin' to have two large mirrors put on th' side an' wan below. +Thin I'm goin' to have th' ceilin' painted green, an' a bull-yard +table put in th' back room. 'Twill be a place to par'lyze ye whin it +is through with." +</p> + +<p> +"And what 'll pay for it?" asked Mr. McKenna, in blank amazement. +</p> + +<p> +"This," said Mr. Dooley, whacking the pile before him. "Here's twinty +thousand dollars iv th' bonds iv th' raypublic. They bear inthrest at +twinty-five per cint; an' they're signed be Xavier O'Malley, Pagan +O'Leary (th' wicked man), an' O'Brien, th' threeasurer. Me cousin Mike +put thim up with me f'r a loan iv five. He wurruked in th' +threeasurer's office; an', whin th' polis broke up th' Irish +rivolution, he put on his coat an' stuck a month's bond issue in his +pocket. 'They'll come in handy wan day,' he says; for he was a +philosopher, if he did take a dhrop too much. Whin he give me th' +bonds, he says, says he, 'Hol' to thim,' he says, 'an' some time or +other they'll make a rich man iv ye.' Jawn, I feel th' time has come. +Cleveland's on th' rampage; an', if Ireland ain't a raypublic befure a +month, I'll give ye these here documents f'r what I paid on thim. I +have me information fr'm Hinnissy, an' Hinnissy have it fr'm Willum +Joyce, an' ye know how close Joyce is to Finerty. Hinnissy was in last +night. 'Well,' says I, 'what's th' news?' I says. 'News?' says he. +'They'se on'y wan thing talked about,' he says. 'We're goin' to have a +war with England,' he says. 'An' th' whole Irish army has inlisted,' +he says. 'Has Finerty gone in?' says I. 'He has,' he says. 'Thin,' +says I, ''tis all off with th' Sassenach. We'll run thim fr'm th' face +iv th' earth,' I says. ''Tis th' prisint intintion iv mesilf to hire a +good big tug an' put a hook into Ireland, an' tow it over th' big +dhrink, an' anchor it ayether in th' harbor iv New York or in th' +lake. +</p> + +<p> +"D'ye know, Jawn, 'twas Cleveland that definded th' Fenians whin they +was took up f'r invadin' Canada. 'Twas so. He was not much in thim +days,—a kid iv a lawyer, like Doheny's youngest, with a lot iv hair +an' a long coat an' a hungry look. Whin th' Fenians come back fr'm +Canada in a boat an' landed in th' city iv Buf-falo, New York, they +was all run in; an' sare a lawyer cud they get to defind thim till +this here Cleveland come up, an' says he: 'I'll take th' job,' he +says. 'I'll go in an' do th' best I can f'r ye.' Me uncle Mike was +along with thim, an' he looked Cleveland over; an' says he: 'Ye'll do +th' best ye can f'r us,' he says, 'will ye?' he says. 'Well,' he says, +'I'll take no chances,' he says. 'Sind f'r th' desk sergeant,' he +says. 'I'm goin' to plead guilty an' turn informer,' he says. 'Tis +lucky f'r Cleveland me uncle died befure he r-run f'r President. He'd +'ve had wan vote less. +</p> + +<p> +"I'll niver forget th' night me uncle Mike come back fr'm Canada. Ye +know he was wan iv th' most des'prit Fenians that iver lived; an', +whin th' movement begun, he had to thread on no wan's shadow befure he +was off f'r th' battle. Ivry wan in town knew he was goin'; an' he +wint away with a thrunk full iv bottles an' all th' good wishes iv th' +neighborhood, more be reason iv th' fact that he was a boistherous man +whin he was th' worse f'r wear, with a bad habit iv throwin' bricks +through his neighbors' windys. We cud see him as th' thrain moved out, +walkin' up an' down th' aisle, askin' iv there was anny Englishman in +th' car that 'd like to go out on th' platform an' rowl off with him. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, he got up in New York an' met a lot iv other des'prite men like +himsilf, an' they wint across th' bordher singin' songs an' carryin' +on, an' all th' militia iv New York was undher ar-rms; f'r it 'd been +just like thim to turn round an' do their fightin' in New York. 'Twas +little me uncle Mike cared where he fought. +</p> + +<p> +"But, be hook or crook, they got to where th' other Fenians was, an' +jined th' army. They come fr'm far an' near; an' they were young an' +old, poor lads, some iv thim bent on sthrikin' th' blow that 'd break +th' back iv British tyranny an' some jus' crazed f'r fightin'. They +had big guns an' little guns an' soord canes an' pitchforks an' +scythes, an' wan or two men had come over armed with baseball bats. +They had more gin'rals thin ye cud find in a Raypublican West Town +convintion, an' ivry private was at laste a colonel. They made me +uncle Mike a brigadier gin'ral. 'That 'll do f'r a time,' says he; +'but, whin th' fun begins, I'll pull Dorney off his horse, an' be a +major gin'ral,' he says. An' he'd 've done it, too, on'y they was no +fightin'. +</p> + +<p> +"They marched on, an' th' British run away fr'm thim; an', be hivins, +me uncle Mike cud niver get a shot at a redcoat, though he searched +high an' low f'r wan. Thin a big rain-storm come, an' they was no +tents to protect thim; an' they set aroun', shiverin' an' swearin'. Me +uncle Mike was a bit iv a politician; an' he organized a meetin' iv +th' lads that had come over with him, an' sint a comity to wait on th' +major gin'ral. 'Dorney,' says me uncle Mike, f'r he was chairman iv +th' comity, 'Dorney,' he says, 'me an' me associated warriors wants to +know,' he says. 'What d'ye mane?' says Dorney. 'Ye brought us up +here,' says me uncle Mike, 'to fight the British,' he says. 'If ye +think,' he says, 'that we come over,' he says, 'to engage in a six +days' go-as-you-please walkin' match,' he says, 'ye'd betther go an' +have ye'er head looked into,' he says. 'Have ye anny British around +here? Have ye e'er a Sassenach concealed about ye'er clothes?' he +says. 'We can't do annything if they won't stand f'r us,' says Dorney. +'Thin,' says me uncle Mike, 'I wash me hands iv th' whole invasion,' +he says. 'I'll throuble ye f'r me voucher,' he says. 'I'm goin back to +a counthry where they grow men that 'll stand up an' fight back,' he +says; an' he an' his la-ads wint over to Buf-falo, an' was locked up +f'r rivolution. +</p> + +<p> +"Me uncle Mike come home on th' bumpers iv a freight car, which is th' +way most rivolutioners come home, excipt thim that comes home in th' +baggage car in crates. 'Uncle Mike,' says I to him, 'what's war like, +annyhow?' 'Well,' says he, 'in some rayspicts it is like missin' th' +last car,' he says; 'an' in other rayspicts 'tis like gettin' gay in +front iv a polis station,' he says. An', by dad, whin I come to think +what they call wars nowadays, I believe me uncle Mike was right. 'Twas +different whin I was a lad. They had wars in thim days that was wars." +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="ruling"></a> +<p class="title">THE RULING CLASS. +</p> + + +<p> +"I see be th' pa-apers," said Mr. Dooley, "that arnychy's torch do be +lifted, an' what it means I dinnaw; but this here I know, Jawn, that +all arnychists is inimies iv governmint, an' all iv thim ought to be +hung f'r th' first offence an' bathed f'r th' second. Who are they, +annyhow, but foreigners, an' what right have they to be holdin' +torchlight procissions in this land iv th' free an' home iv th' brave? +Did ye iver see an American or an Irishman an arnychist? No, an' ye +niver will. Whin an Irishman thinks th' way iv thim la-ads, he goes on +th' polis force an' dhraws his eighty-three-thirty-three f'r throwin' +lodgin'-house bums into th' pathrol wagon. An' there ye a-are. +</p> + +<p> +"I niver knowed but th' wan arnychist, an' he was th' divvle an' all +f'r slaughtherin' th' rich. He was a Boolgahrian man that lived down +be Cologne Sthreet, acrost th' river; but he come over to Bridgeport +whin he did have his skates on him, f'r th' liftenant over there was +again arnychists, an' 'twas little our own Jawnny Shea cared f'r thim +so long as they didn't bother him. Well, sir, this here man's name was +Owsky or something iv that sort, but I always called him Casey be way +iv a joke. He had whiskers on him like thim on a cokynut, an' I heerd +he swore an oath niver to get shaved till he killed a man that wore a +stove-pipe hat. +</p> + +<p> +"Be that as it may, Jawn, he was a most ferocious man. Manny's th' +time I've heerd him lecture to little Matt Doolan asleep like a log +behind th' stove. What a-are we comin' to?' he'd say. 'What a-are we +comin' to?' D'ye mind, Jawn, that's th' way he always began. 'Th' poor +do be gettin' richer,' says he, 'an' th' rich poorer,' says he. 'Th' +governmint,' says he, 'is in th' hands iv th' monno-polists,' he says, +'an' they're crushin' th' life out iv th' prolotoorios.' A +prolotoorio, Jawn, is th' same thing as a hobo. 'Look at th' Willum +Haitch Vanderbilts,' says he, 'an' th' Gools an' th' Astors,' says he, +'an' thin look at us,' he says, 'groun' down,' he says, 'till we cries +f'r bread on th' sthreet,' he says; 'an' they give us a stone,' he +says. 'Dooley,' he says, 'fetch in a tub iv beer, an' lave th' collar +off,' he says. +</p> + +<p> +"Doolan 'd wake up with a start, an' applaud at that. He was a little +tailor-man that wurruked in a panthry down town, an' I seen him weep +whin a dog was r-run over be a dhray. Thin Casey 'd call on Doolan f'r +to stand his ground an' desthroy th' polis,—'th' onions iv th' +monno-polists,' he called thim,—an' Doolan 'd say, 'Hear, hear,' till +I thrun thim both out. +</p> + +<p> +"I thought me frind Casey 'd be taken up f'r histin' a polisman f'r +sure, though, to be fair with him, I niver knowed him to do but wan +arnychist thing, and that was to make faces at Willum Joyce because he +lived in a two-story an' bay-window brick house. Doolan said that was +goin' too far, because Willum Joyce usually had th' price. Wan day +Casey disappeared, an' I heerd he was married. He niver showed up f'r +a year; an', whin he come in, I hardly knowed him. His whiskers had +been filed an' his hair cut, an' he was dhressed up to kill. He wint +into th' back room, an' Doolan was asleep there. He woke him, an' made +a speech to him that was full iv slaughther and bloodshed. Pretty soon +in come a little woman, with a shawl over her head,—a little German +lady. Says she, 'Where's me hoosband?' in a German brogue ye cud cut +with an ax. 'I don't know ye'er husband, ma'am,' says I. 'What's his +name?' She told me, an' I seen she was Casey's wife; 'He's in there,' +I says. 'In back,' I says, 'talking to Doolan, th' prolotoorio.' I +wint back with her, an' there was Casey whalin' away. 'Ar-re ye men or +ar-re ye slaves?' he says to Doolan. 'Julius,' says his wife, 'vat ye +doin' there, ye blackgaard,' she says. 'Comin' ze, or be hivens I'll +break ye'er jaw,' she says. Well, sir, he turned white, an' come over +as meek as a lamb. She grabbed him be th' arm an' led him off, an' +'twas th' last I seen iv him. +</p> + +<p> +"Afther a while Doolan woke up, an' says he, 'Where's me frind?' +'Gone,' says I. 'His wife came in, an' hooked him off.' 'Well,' says +Doolan, ''tis on'y another victhry iv the rulin' classes,' he says." +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="optimist"></a> +<p class="title">THE OPTIMIST. +</p> + + +<p> +"Aho," said Mr. Dooley, drawing a long, deep breath. "Ah-ho, glory be +to th' saints!" +</p> + +<p> +He was sitting out in front of his liquor shop with Mr. McKenna, their +chairs tilted against the door-posts. If it had been hot elsewhere, +what had it been in Archey Road? The street-car horses reeled in the +dust from the tracks. The drivers, leaning over the dash-boards, +flogged the brutes with the viciousness of weakness. The piles of coke +in the gas-house yards sent up waves of heat like smoke. Even the +little girls playing on the sidewalks were flaming pink in color. But +the night saw Archey Road out in all gayety, its flannel shirt open at +the breast to the cooling blast and the cries of its children filling +the air. It also saw Mr. Dooley luxuriating like a polar bear, and +bowing cordially to all who passed. +</p> + +<p> +"Glory be to th' saints," he said, "but it's been a thryin' five days. +I've been mean enough to commit murdher without th' strength even to +kill a fly. I expect to have a fight on me hands; f'r I've insulted +half th' road, an' th' on'y thing that saved me was that no wan was +sthrong enough to come over th' bar. 'I cud lick ye f'r that, if it +was not so hot,' said Dorsey, whin I told him I'd change no bill f'r +him. 'Ye cud not,' says I, 'if 'twas cooler,' I says. It's cool enough +f'r him now. Look, Jawn dear, an' see if there's an ice-pick undher me +chair. +</p> + +<p> +"It 'd be more thin th' patience iv Job 'd stand to go through such +weather, an' be fit f'r society. They's on'y wan man in all th' +wurruld cud do it, an' that man's little Tim Clancy. He wurruks out in +th' mills, tin hours a day, runnin' a wheelbarrow loaded with +cindhers. He lives down beyant. Wan side iv his house is up again a +brewery, an' th' other touches elbows with Twinty-Percint Murphy's +flats. A few years back they found out that he didn't own on'y th' +front half iv th' lot, an' he can set on his back stoop an' put his +feet over th' fince now. He can, faith. Whin he's indures, he breathes +up th' chimbley; an' he has a wife an' eight kids. He dhraws wan +twinty-five a day—whin he wurruks. +</p> + +<p> +"He come in here th' other night to talk over matthers; an' I was +stewin' in me shirt, an' sayin' cross things to all th' wurruld fr'm +th' tail iv me eye. ''Tis hot,' says I. ''Tis war-rum,' he says. ''Tis +dam hot,' says I. 'Well,' he says, ''tis good weather f'r th' crops,' +he says. 'Things grows in this weather. I mind wanst,' he says, 'we +had days just like these, an' we raised forty bushels iv oats to an +acre,' he says. 'Whin Neville, th' landlord, come with wagons to take +it off, he was that surprised ye cud iv knocked him down with a +sthraw. 'Tis great growin' weather,' he says. An', Jawn, by dad, +barrin' where th' brewery horse spilt oats on th' durestep an' th' +patches iv grass on th' dump, sare a growin' thing but childher has +that little man seen in twinty years. +</p> + +<p> +"'Twas hotter whin I seen him nex', an' I said so. ''Tis war-rum,' he +says, laughin'. 'By dad, I think th' ice 'll break up in th' river +befure mornin',' he says. 'But look how cold it was last winter,' he +says. 'Th' crops need weather like this,' he says. I'd like to have +hit him with a chair. Sundah night I wint over to see him. He was +sittin' out in front, with a babby on each knee. 'Good avnin',' says +I. 'Good avnin',' he says. 'This is th' divvle's own weather,' I says. +'I'm suffocatin'.' ''Tis quite a thaw,' he says. 'How's all th' +folks?' says I. 'All well, thank ye kindly,' he says. 'save an' except +th' wife an' little Eleen,' he says. 'They're not so well,' he says. +'But what can ye expect? They've had th' best iv health all th' year.' +'It must be har-rd wurrukin' at th' mills this weather,' I says. ''Tis +war-rum,' he says; 'but ye can't look f'r snow-storms this time iv th' +year,' he says. 'Thin,' says he, 'me mind's taken aff th' heat be me +wurruk,' he says. 'Dorsey that had th' big cinder-pile—the wan near +th' fence—was sun-struck Fridah, an' I've been promoted to his job. +'Tis a most res-sponsible place,' he says; 'an' a man, to fill it +rightly an' properly, has no time to think f'r th' crops,' he says. +An' I wint away, lavin' him singin' 'On th' Three-tops' to th' kids on +his knees. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, he comes down th' road tonight afther th' wind had turned, with +his old hat on th' back iv his head, whistlin' 'Th' Rambler fr'm +Clare' and I stopped to talk with him. 'Glory be,' says I, ''tis +pleasant to breathe th' cool air,' says I. 'Ah,' he says, ''tis a rale +good avnin',' he says. 'D'ye know,' he says, 'I haven't slept much +these nights, f'r wan reason 'r another. But,' he says, 'I'm afraid +this here change won't be good f'r th' crops,' he says. 'If we'd had +wan or two more war-rum days an' thin a sprinkle iv rain,' he says, +'how they would grow, how they would grow!'" +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Dooley sat up in his chair, and looked over at Mr. McKenna. +</p> + +<p> +"Jawn," he said, "d'ye know that, whin I think iv th' thoughts that's +been in my head f'r a week, I don't dare to look Tim Clancy in th' +face." +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="prosperity"></a> +<p class="title">PROSPERITY. +</p> + + +<p> +"Th' defeat iv Humanity be Prosperity was wan iv th' raysults iv th' +iliction," said Mr. Dooley. +</p> + +<p> +"What are you talking about?" asked Mr. McKenna, gruffly. +</p> + +<p> +"Well," said Mr. Dooley, "I thought it was McKinley an' Hobart that +won out, but I see now that it's McKinley an' Prosperity. If Bryan had +been elected, Humanity would have had a front seat an' a tab. Th' +sufferin's iv all th' wurruld would have ended; an' Jawn H. Humanity +would be in th' White House, throwin' his feet over th' furniture an' +receivin' th' attintions iv diplomats an' pleeniapotentiaries. It was +decided otherwise be th' fates, as th' Good Book says. Prosperity is +th' bucko now. Barrin' a sthrike at th' stock-yards an' a hold-up here +an' there, Prosperity has come leapin' in as if it had jumped fr'm a +springboard. Th' mills are opened, th' factories are goin' to go, th' +railroads are watherin' stocks, long processions iv workin'men are +marchin' fr'm th' pay-car to their peaceful saloons, their wives are +takin' in washin' again, th' price iv wheat is goin' up an' down, +creditors are beginnin' to sue debtors; an' thus all th' wurruld is +merry with th' on'y rational enjoyments iv life. +</p> + +<p> +"An' th' stock exchange has opened. That's wan iv th' strongest signs +iv prosperity. I min' wanst whin me frind Mike McDonald was +controllin' th' city, an' conductin' an exchange down be Clark +Sthreet. Th' game had been goin' hard again th' house. They hadn't +been a split f'r five deals. Whin ivrybody was on th' queen to win, +with th' sivin spot coppered, th' queen won, th' sivin spot lost. Wan +lad amused himsilf be callin' th' turn twinty-wan times in succession, +an' th' check rack was down to a margin iv eleven whites an' +fifty-three cints in change. Mike looked around th' crowd, an' turned +down th' box. 'Gintlemen,' says he, 'th' game is closed. Business +conditions are such,' he says, 'that I will not be able to cash in +ye'er checks,' he says. 'Please go out softly, so's not to disturb +th' gintlemen at th' roulette wheel,' he says, 'an' come back afther +th' iliction, whin confidence is restored an' prosperity returns to +th' channels iv thrade an' industhry,' he says. 'Th' exchange 'll be +opened promptly; an' th' usual rule iv chips f'r money an' money f'r +chips, fifty on cases an' sivinty-five f'r doubles, a hard-boiled egg +an' a dhrink f'r losers, will prevail,' he says. 'Return with th' glad +tidings iv renewed commerce, an' thank th' Lord I haven't took ye'er +clothes.' His was th' first stock exchange we had. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, Prosperity has come hollerin' an screamin'. To read th' papers, +it seems to be a kind iv a vagrancy law. No wan can loaf anny more. +Th' end iv vacation has gone f'r manny a happy lad that has spint six +months ridin' through th' counthry, dodgin' wurruk, or loafin' under +his own vine or hat-three. Prosperity grabs ivry man be th' neck, an' +sets him shovellin' slag or coke or runnin' up an' down a ladder with +a hod iv mortar. It won't let th' wurruld rest. If Humanity 'd been +victoryous, no wan 'd iver have to do a lick again to th' end iv his +days. But Prosperity's a horse iv another color. It goes round like a +polisman givin' th' hot fut to happy people that are snoozin' in th' +sun. 'Get up,' says Prosperity. 'Get up, an' hustle over to th' +rollin' mills: there's a man over there wants ye to carry a ton iv +coal on ye'er back.' 'But I don't want to wurruk,' says th' lad. 'I'm +very comfortable th' way I am.' 'It makes no difference,' says +Prosperity. 'Ye've got to do ye'er lick. Wurruk, f'r th' night is +comin'. Get out, an' hustle. Wurruk, or ye can't be unhappy; an', if +th' wurruld isn't unhappy, they'se no such a thing as Prosperity.' +</p> + +<p> +"That's wan thing I can't understand," Mr. Dooley went on. "Th' +newspapers is run be a lot iv gazabos that thinks wurruk is th' +ambition iv mankind. Most iv th' people I know 'd be happiest layin' +on a lounge with a can near by, or stretchin' thimsilves f'r another +nap at eight in th' mornin'. But th' papers make it out that there 'd +be no sunshine in th' land without you an' me, Hinnissy, was up before +daybreak pullin' a sthreet-car or poundin' sand with a shovel. I seen +a line, 'Prosperity effects on th' Pinnsylvania Railroad'; an' I read +on to find that th' road intinded to make th' men in their shops +wurruk tin hours instead iv eight, an' it says 'there's no reasons why +they should not wurruk Sundahs iv they choose.' If they choose! An' +what chance has a man got that wants to make th' wurruld brighter an' +happier be rollin' car-wheels but to miss mass an' be at th' shops?" +</p> + +<p> +"We must all work," said Mr. McKenna, sententiously. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," said Mr. Dooley, "or be wurruked." +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="hot"></a> +<p class="title">THE GREAT HOT SPELL. +</p> + + +<p> +It was sultry everywhere, but particularly in Archey Road; for in +summer Archey Road is a tunnel for the south-west wind, which +refreshes itself at the rolling-mill blasts, and spills its wrath upon +the just and the unjust alike. Wherefore Mr. Dooley and Mr. McKenna +were both steaming, as they sat at either side of the door of Mr. +Dooley's place, with their chairs tilted back against the posts. +</p> + +<p> +"Hot," said Mr. McKenna. +</p> + +<p> +"Warrum," said Mr. Dooley. +</p> + +<p> +"I think this is the hottest September that ever was," said Mr. +McKenna. +</p> + +<p> +"So ye say," said Mr. Dooley. "An' that's because ye're a young man, a +kid. If ye was my age, ye'd know betther. How d'ye do, Mrs. Murphy? Go +in, an' fill it ye'ersilf. Ye'll find th' funnel undher th' see-gar +case.—Ye'd know betther thin that. Th' Siptimber iv th' year eighteen +sixty-eight was so much hotter thin this that, if ye wint fr'm wan to +th' other, ye'd take noomoney iv th' lungs,—ye wud so. 'Twas a +remarkable summer, takin' it all in all. On th' Foorth iv July they +was a fut iv ice in Haley's slough, an' I was near flooded out be th' +wather pipe bustin'. A man be th' name iv Maloney froze his hand +settin' off a Roman candle near Main Sthreet, an'—Tin cints, please, +ma'am. Thank ye kindly. How's th' good man?—As I said, it was a +remarkable summer. It rained all August, an' th' boys wint about on +rafts; an' a sthreet-car got lost fr'm th' road, an' I dhrove into th' +canal, an' all on boord—'Avnin', Mike. Ah-ha, 'twas a great fight. +An' Buck got his eye, did he? A good man. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, Jawn, along come Siptimber. It begun fairly warrum, wan +hundherd or so in th' shade; but no wan minded that. Thin it got +hotter an' hotter, an' people begun to complain a little. They was +sthrong in thim days,—not like th' joods they raise now,—an' a +little heat more or less didn't kill thim. But afther a while it was +more thin most iv thim wanted. The sthreet-car thracks got so soft +they spread all over th' sthreet, an' th' river run dhry. Afther +boilin' f'r five days like a—How are ye, Dempsey? Ye don't tell me? +Now th' likes iv him runnin' f'r aldherman! I'd as lave vote f'r th' +tillygraph pole. Well, be good to ye'ersilf. Folks all well? Thanks +be.—They shut off th' furnaces out at th' mills, an' melted th' iron +be puttin' it out in th' sun. Th' puddlers wurruked in iron cases, an' +was kept alive be men playin' a hose on thim fr'm th' packin' house +refrigerator. Wan iv thim poked his head out to light his pipe, an' he +was—Well, well, Timothy, ye are quite a sthranger. Ah, dear oh me, +that's too ba-ad, too ba-ad. I'll tell ye what ye do. Ye rub th' hand +in half iv a potato, an' say tin pather an' avy's over it ivry day f'r +tin days. 'Tis a sure cure. I had wan wanst. Th' kids are thrivin', I +dinnaw? That's good. Betther to hear thim yellin' in th' sthreet thin +th' sound iv th' docthor's gig at th' dure. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, Jawn, things wint fr'm bad to worse. All th' beer in th' house +was mulled; an' Mrs. Dinny Hogan—her that was Odelia O'Brien—burned +her face atin' ice-crame down be th' Italyan man's place, on Halsthed +Sthreet. 'Twas no sthrange sight to see an ice-wagon goin' along th' +sthreet on fire—McCarthy! McCarthy! come over here! Sure, ye're +gettin' proud, passin' by ye'er ol' frinds. How's thricks in th' +Ninth? D'ye think he will? Well, I've heerd that, too; but they was a +man in here to-day that says the Boohemians is out f'r him with axes. +Good-night. Don't forget th' number. +</p> + +<p> +"They was a man be th' name iv Daheny, Jawn, a cousin iv th' wan ye +know, that started to walk up th' r-road fr'm th' bridge. Befure he +got to Halsthed Sthreet, his shoes was on fire. He turned in an alarm; +but th' fire departmint was all down on Mitchigan Avnoo, puttin' out +th' lake, an'"—"Putting out what?" demanded Mr. McKenna. +</p> + +<p> +"Puttin' out th' lake," replied Mr. Dooley, stolidly. "They was no +insurance—A good avnin' to ye, Mrs. Doyle. Ye're goin' over, thin? I +was there las' night, an' a finer wake I niver see. They do nawthin' +be halves. How was himsilf? As natural as life? Yes, ma'am, rayqueem +high mass, be carredges to Calv'ry. +</p> + +<p> +"On th' twinty-fifth iv Siptimber a change come. It was very sudden; +an', steppin' out iv th' ice-box where I slept in th' mornin', I got a +chill. I wint for me flannels, an' stopped to look at th' +thermomether. It was four hundherd an' sixty-five." +</p> + +<p> +"How much?" asked Mr. McKenna. +</p> + +<p> +"Four hundherd an' sixty-five." +</p> + +<p> +"Fahrenheit?" +</p> + +<p> +"No, it belonged to Dorsey. Ah! well, well, an' here's Cassidy. Come +in, frind, an' have a shell iv beer. I've been tellin' Jawnny about +th' big thaw iv eighteen sixty-eight. Feel th' wind, man alive. 'Tis +turnin' cool, an' we'll sleep to-night." +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="lent"></a> +<p class="title">KEEPING LENT. +</p> + + +<p> +Mr. McKenna had observed Mr. Dooley in the act of spinning a long, +thin spoon in a compound which reeked pleasantly and smelt of the +humming water of commerce; and he laughed and mocked at the +philosopher. +</p> + +<p> +"Ah-ha," he said, "that's th' way you keep Lent, is it? Two weeks from +Ash Wednesday, and you tanking up." +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Dooley went on deliberately to finish the experiment, leisurely +dusting the surface with nutmeg and tasting the product before setting +down the glass daintily. Then he folded his apron, and lay back in +ample luxury while he began: "Jawn, th' holy season iv Lent was sent +to us f'r to teach us th' weakness iv th' human flesh. Man proposes, +an' th' Lord disposes, as Hinnissy says. +</p> + +<p> +"I mind as well as though it was yesterday th' struggle iv me father +f'r to keep Lent. He began to talk it a month befure th' time. 'On Ash +Winsdah,' he'd say, 'I'll go in f'r a rale season iv fast an' +abstinince,' he'd say. An' sure enough, whin Ash Winsdah come round at +midnight, he'd take a long dhraw at his pipe an' knock th' ashes out +slowly again his heel, an' thin put th' dhudeen up behind th' clock. +'There,' says he, 'there ye stay till Easter morn,' he says. Ash +Winsdah he talked iv nawthin but th' pipe. ''Tis exthraordinney how +easy it is f'r to lave off,' he says. 'All ye need is will power,' he +says. 'I dinnaw that I'll iver put a pipe in me mouth again. 'Tis a +bad habit, smokin' is,' he says; 'an' it costs money. A man's betther +off without it. I find I dig twict as well,' he says; 'an', as f'r +cuttin' turf, they'se not me like in th' parish since I left off th' +pipe,' he says. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, th' nex' day an' th' nex' day he talked th' same way; but +Fridah he was sour, an' looked up at th' clock where th' pipe was. +Saturdah me mother, thinkin' to be plazin to him, says: 'Terrence,' +she says, 'ye're iver so much betther without th' tobacco,' she says. +'I'm glad to find you don't need it. Ye'll save money,' she says. 'Be +quite, woman,' says he. 'Dear, oh dear,' he says, 'I'd like a pull at +th' clay,' he says. 'Whin Easter comes, plaze Gawd, I'll smoke mesilf +black an' blue in th' face,' he says. +</p> + +<p> +"That was th' beginnin' iv th' downfall. Choosdah he was settin' in +front iv th' fire with a pipe in his mouth. 'Why, Terrence,' says me +mother, 'ye're smokin' again.' 'I'm not,' says he: ''tis a dhry +smoke,' he says; ''tisn't lighted,' he says. Wan week afther th' +swear-off he came fr'm th' field with th' pipe in his face, an' him +puffin' away like a chimney. 'Terrence,' says me mother, 'it isn't +Easter morn.' 'Ah-ho,' says he, 'I know it,' he says; 'but,' he says, +'what th' divvle do I care?' he says. 'I wanted f'r to find out +whether it had th' masthery over me; an',' he says, 'I've proved that +it hasn't,' he says. 'But what's th' good iv swearin' off, if ye don't +break it?' he says. 'An' annyhow,' he says, 'I glory in me shame.' +</p> + +<p> +"Now, Jawn," Mr. Dooley went on, "I've got what Hogan calls a theery, +an' it's this: that what's thrue iv wan man's thrue iv all men. I'm me +father's son a'most to th' hour an' day. Put me in th' County +Roscommon forty year ago, an' I'd done what he'd done. Put him on th' +Ar-rchey Road, an' he'd be deliverin' ye a lecture on th' sin iv +thinkin' ye're able to overcome th' pride iv th' flesh, as Father +Kelly says. Two weeks ago I looked with contimpt on Hinnissy f'r an' +because he'd not even promise to fast an' obstain fr'm croquet durin' +Lent. To-night you see me mixin' me toddy without th' shadow iv +remorse about me. I'm proud iv it. An' why not? I was histin' in me +first wan whin th' soggarth come down fr'm a sick call, an' looked in +at me. 'In Lent?' he says, half-laughin' out in thim quare eyes iv +his. 'Yes,' said I. 'Well,' he says, 'I'm not authorized to say this +be th' propaganda,' he says, 'an' 'tis no part iv th' directions f'r +Lent,' he says; 'but,' he says, 'I'll tell ye this, Martin,' he says, +'that they'se more ways than wan iv keepin' th' season,' he says. +'I've knowed thim that starved th' stomach to feast th' evil temper,' +he says. 'They'se a little priest down be th' Ninth Ward that niver +was known to keep a fast day; but Lent or Christmas tide, day in an' +day out, he goes to th' hospital where they put th' people that has +th' small-pox. Starvation don't always mean salvation. If it did,' he +says, 'they'd have to insure th' pavemint in wan place, an' they'd +be money to burn in another. Not,' he says, 'that I want ye to +undherstand that I look kindly on th' sin iv'— +</p> + +<p> +"''Tis a cold night out,' says I. +</p> + +<p> +"'Well,' he says, th' dear man, 'ye may. On'y,' he says, ''tis Lent.' +</p> + +<p> +"'Yes,' says I. +</p> + +<p> +"'Well, thin,' he says, 'by ye'er lave I'll take but half a lump iv +sugar in mine,' he says." +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="quick"></a> +<p class="title">THE QUICK AND THE DEAD. +</p> + + +<p> +Mr. Dooley and Mr. McKenna sat outside the ample door of the little +liquor store, the evening being hot, and wrapped their legs around the +chair, and their lips around two especially long and soothing drinks. +They talked politics and religion, the people up and down the street, +the chances of Murphy, the tinsmith, getting on the force, and a great +deal about the weather. A woman in white started Mr. McKenna's nerves. +</p> + +<p> +"Glory be, I thought it was a ghost!" said Mr. McKenna, whereupon the +conversation drifted to those interesting phenomena. Mr. Dooley asked +Mr. McKenna if he had ever seen one. Mr. McKenna replied that he +hadn't, and didn't want to. Had Mr. Dooley? "No," said the +philosopher, "I niver did; an' it's always been more thin sthrange to +me that annywan shud come back afther he'd been stuck in a crate five +feet deep, with a ton iv mud upon him. 'Tis onplisint iv thim, +annyhow, not to say ongrateful. F'r mesilf, if I was wanst pushed off, +an' they'd waked me kindly, an' had a solemn rayqueem high mass f'r +me, an' a funeral with Roddey's Hi-beryan band, an' th' A-ho-aitches, +I have too much pride to come back f'r an encore. I wud so, Jawn. Whin +a man's dead, he ought to make th' best iv a bad job, an' not be +thrapsin' around, lookin' f'r throuble among his own kind. +</p> + +<p> +"No, I niver see wan, but I know there are such things; f'r twinty +years ago all th' road was talkin' about how Flaherty, th' tailor, +laid out th' ghost iv Tim O'Grady. O'Grady was a big sthrappin' +Connock man, as wide across th' shoulders as a freight car. He was a +plastherer be thrade whin wages was high, an' O'Grady was rowlin' in +wealth. Ivry Sundah ye'd see him, with his horse an' buggy an' his +goold watch an' chain, in front iv th' Sullivans' house, waitin' f'r +Mary Ann Sullivan to go f'r a buggy ride with him over to McAllister +Place; an' he fin'lly married her, again th' wishes iv Flaherty, who +took to histin' in dhrinks, an' missed his jooty, an' was a scandal in +th' parish f'r six months. +</p> + +<p> +"O'Grady didn't improve with mathrimony, but got to lanin' again th' +ol' stuff, an' walkin' up an' down th' sidewalk in his shirt-sleeves, +with his thumbs stuck in his vest, an' his little pipe turned upside +down; an', whin he see Flaherty, 'twas his custom to run him up an +alley, so that th' little tailor man niver had a minyit iv peace. Ivry +wan supposed he lived in a three most iv th' time, to be out iv th' +way iv O'Grady. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, wan day O'Grady he seen Flaherty walkin' down th' sthreet with +a pair iv lavender pants f'r Willum Joyce to wear to th' Ogden Grove +picnic, an' thried to heave a brick at him. He lost his balance, an' +fell fr'm th' scaffoldin' he was wurrukin' on; an' th' last wurruds he +said was, 'Did I get him or didn't I?' Mrs. O'Grady said it was th' +will iv Gawd; an' he was burrid at Calvary with a funeral iv eighty +hacks, an' a great manny people in their own buggies. Dorsey, th' +conthractor, was there with his wife. He thought th' wurruld an' all +iv O'Grady. +</p> + +<p> +"Wan year aftherward Flaherty begun makin' up to Mrs. O'Grady; an' +ivry wan in th' parish seen it, an' was glad iv it, an' said it was +scandalous. How it iver got out to O'Grady's pew in th' burryin' +ground, I'll niver tell ye, an' th' Lord knows; but wan evenin' th' +ghost iv O'Grady come back. Flaherty was settin' in th' parlor, +smokin' a seegar, with O'Grady's slippers on his feet, whin th' spook +come in in th' mos' natural way in the wurruld, kickin' th' dog. 'What +ar-re ye doin' here, ye little farryer iv pants?' he says. Mrs. +O'Grady was f'r faintin'; but O'Flaherty he says, says he: 'Be quite,' +he says, 'I'll dale with him.' Thin to th' ghost: 'Have ye paid th' +rint here, ye big ape?' he says. 'What d'ye mane be comin' back, whin +th' landlord ain't heerd fr'm ye f'r a year?' he says. Well, O'Grady's +ghost was that surprised he cud hardly speak. 'Ye ought to have +betther manners thin insultin' th' dead,' he says. 'Ye ought to have +betther manners thin to be lavin' ye'er coffin at this hour iv th' +night, an' breakin' in on dacint people,' says Flaherty. 'What good +does it do to have rayqueem masses f'r th' raypose iv th' like iv +you,' he says, 'that doesn't know his place?' he says. "I'm masther iv +this house,' says th' ghost. 'Not on ye'er life,' says Flaherty. 'Get +out iv here, or I'll make th' ghost iv a ghost out iv ye. I can lick +anny dead man that iver lived,' he said. +</p> + +<p> +"With that th' ghost iv O'Grady made a pass at him, an' they clinched +an' rowled on th' flure. Now a ghost is no aisy mark f'r anny man, an' +O'Grady's ghost was as sthrong as a cow. It had Flaherty down on th' +flure an' was feedin' him with a book they call th' 'Christyan +Martyrs,' whin Mrs. O'Grady put a bottle in Flaherty's hands. 'What's +this?' says Flaherty. 'Howly wather,' says Mrs. O'Grady. 'Sprinkle it +on him,' says Mrs. O'Grady. 'Woman,' says th' tailor between th' +chapter iv th' book, 'this is no time f'r miracles,' he says. An' he +give O'Grady's ghost a treminjous wallop on th' head. Now, whether it +was th' wather or th' wallop, I'll not tell ye; but, annyhow, th' +ghost give wan yell an' disappeared. An' th' very next Sundah, whin +Father Kelly wint into th' pulpit at th' gospel, he read th' names iv +Roger Kickham Flaherty an' Mary Ann O'Grady." +</p> + +<p> +"Did the ghost ever come back?" asked Mr. McKenna. +</p> + +<p> +"Niver," said Mr. Dooley. "Wanst was enough. But, mind ye, I'd hate to +have been wan iv th' other ghosts th' night O'Grady got home fr'm th' +visit to O'Flaherty's. There might be ghosts that cud stand him off +with th' gloves, but in a round an' tumble fight he cud lick a St. +Patrick's Day procession iv thim." +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="soft"></a> +<p class="title">THE SOFT SPOT. +</p> + + +<p> +"Anny more cyclone news?" Mr. Dooley asked Mr. McKenna, as he came in +with a copy of an extra paper in his hand. +</p> + +<p> +"Nothing much," Mr. McKenna responded. "This paper says the angel of +death has give up riding on the whirlwind." +</p> + +<p> +"Tis betther so," said Mr. Dooley: "a bicycle is more satisfactory f'r +a steady thing. But, faith, 'tis no jokin' matter. May th' Lord +forgive me f'r makin' light iv it! Jawn, whin I read about thim poor +people down in St. Looey, sthruck be th' wrath iv Hivin' without more +warnin' thin a man gets in a Polock church fight an' swept to their +graves be th' hundherds, me heart ached in me. +</p> + +<p> +"But they'se always some compinsation in th' likes iv this. To see th' +wurruld as it r-runs along in its ordinrey coorse, with ivry man +seemin' to be lookin' f'r th' best iv it an' carryin' a little hammer +f'r his fellow-suff'rers, ye'd think what Hinnissy calls th' springs +iv human sympathy was as dhry in th' breast as a bricklayer's boot in +a box iv mortar. But let annything happen like this, an' men ye'd +suspect iv goin' round with a cold chisel liftin' name-plates off iv +coffins comes to th' front with their lips full iv comfort an' +kindliness an', what's more to th' point, their hands full iv coin. +</p> + +<p> +"Years ago there used to be a man be th' name iv O'Brien—no relation +iv th' sinitor—lived down be th' dumps. He was well off, an' had quit +wur-rkin' f'r a living. Well, whether he'd been disappointed in love +or just naturally had a kick up to him again th' wurruld I niver knew; +but this here ol' la-ad put in his time from morn till night handin' +out contimpt an' hathred to all mankind. No wan was harder to rent +fr'm. He had some houses near Halsted Sthreet, an' I've see him +servin' five days' notices on his tenants whin' th' weather was that +cold ye cudden't see th' inside iv th' furnace-rooms at th' mill f'r +th' frost on th' window. Of all th' landlords on earth, th' Lord +deliver me fr'm an' Irish wan. Whether 'tis that fr'm niver holdin' +anny land in th' ol' counthry they put too high a fondness on their +places whin they get a lot or two over here, I don't know; but they're +quicker with th' constable thin anny others. I've seen men, that 'd +divide their last cint with ye pay night, as hard, whin it come to +gather in th' rent f'r two rooms in th' rear, as if they was an Irish +peer's agents; an' O'Brien had no such start iv binivolence to go on. +He niver seemed to pass th' poor-box in church without wantin' to +break into it. He charged cint per cint whin Casey, th' plumber, +buried his wife an' borrid money f'r th' funeral expenses. I see him +wanst chasin' th' agent iv th' Saint Vincent de Pauls down th' road +f'r darin' to ask him f'r a contribution. To look at his har-rsh red +face, as he sat at his window markin' up his accounts, ye'd know he +was hard in th' bit an' heavy in th' hand. An' so he was,—as hard an' +heavy as anny man I iver seen in all me born days. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, Peter O'Brien had lived on long enough to have th' pious curses +iv th' entire parish, whin th' fire broke out, th' second fire iv +sivinty-four, whin th' damage was tin or twinty millions iv dollars +an' I lost a bull terrier be th' name iv Robert Immitt, r-runnin' +afther th' ingines. O'Brien disappeared fr'm th' r-road durin' th' +fire,—he had some property on th' South Side,—an' wasn't seen or +heerd tell iv f'r a day. Th' nex' mornin' th' rayport come in that he +was seen walkin' over th' red bridge with a baby in his arms. 'Glory +be!' says I: 'is th' man goin' to add canniballing to his other +crimes?' Sure enough, as I sthud in th' dureway, along come O'Brien, +with his hands scalded, his eyebrows gone, an' most iv his clothes +tore fr'm his back, but silent an' grim as iver, with a mite iv a girl +held tight to his breast, an' her fast asleep. +</p> + +<p> +"He had a house back iv my place,—he ownded th' fifty feet frontin' +on Grove Sthreet, bought it fr'm a man named Grogan,—an' 'twas +rinted be a widdy lady be th' name iv Sullivan, wife iv a bricklayer +iv th' same name. He was sthridin' into th' Widow Sullivan's house; +an' says he, 'Mistress Sullivan,' he says. 'Yes,' says she, in a +thremble, knottin' her apron in her hands an' standin' in front iv her +own little wans, 'what can I do f'r ye?' she says. 'Th' rent's not due +till to-morrow.' 'I very well know that,' he says; 'an' I want ye to +take care iv this wan', he says. 'An' I'll pay ye f'r ye'er throuble,' +he says. +</p> + +<p> +"We niver knew where he got th' child: he niver told annywan. Docthor +Casey said he was badly burnt about th' head an' hands. He testified +to it in a suit he brought again O'Brien f'r curin' him. F'r th' man +O'Brien, instead iv rayformin' like they do in th' play, was a long +sight meaner afther he done this wan thing thin iver befure. If he was +tight-fisted wanst, he was as close now as calcimine on a +rough-finished wall. He put his tinints out in th' cold without mercy, +he kicked blind beggars fr'm th' dure, an' on his dyin'-bed he come as +near bein' left be raison iv his thryin' to bargain with th' good man +f'r th' rayqueems as annywan ye iver see. But he raised th' little +girl; an' I sometimes think that, whin they count up th' cash, they'll +let O'Brien off with a character f'r that wan thing, though there's +some pretty hard tabs again him. +</p> + +<p> +"They ain't much point in what I've told ye more thin this,—that +beneath ivry man's outside coat there lies some good feelin'. We ain't +as bad as we make ourselves out. We've been stringin' ropes across th' +sthreet f'r th' people iv Saint Looey f'r thirty years an' handin' +thim bricks fr'm th' chimbleys whiniver we got a chance, but we've +on'y got wurruds an' loose change f'r thim whin th' hard times comes." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," said Mr. McKenna, "I see even the aldhermen has come to the +front, offering relief." +</p> + +<p> +"Well," said Mr. Dooley, thoughtfully, "I on'y hope they won't go to +Saint Looey to disthri-bute it thimsilves. That would be a long sight +worse thin th' cyclone." +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="irishman"></a> +<p class="title">THE IRISHMAN ABROAD. +</p> + + +<p> +Mr. Dooley laid down his morning paper, and looked thoughtfully at the +chandeliers. +</p> + +<p> +"Taaffe," he said musingly,—"Taaffe—where th' divvle? Th' name's +familiar." +</p> + +<p> +"He lives in the Nineteenth," said Mr. McKenna. "If I remember right, +he has a boy on th' force." +</p> + +<p> +"Goowan," said Mr. Dooley, "with ye'er nineteenth wa-ards. Th' Taaffe +I mane is in Austhria. Where in all, where in all? No: yes, by gar, I +have it. A-ha! +</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"But cur-rsed be th' day,</p> +<p class="i2">Whin Lord Taaffe grew faint-hearted</p> +<p>An sthud not n'r cha-arged,</p> +<p class="i2">But in panic depa-arted."</p></div></div> + +<p> +"D'ye mind it,—th' pome by Joyce? No, not Bill Joyce. Joyce, th' Irish +pote that wrote th' pome about th' wa-ars whin me people raysisted +Cromwell, while yours was carryin' turf on their backs to make fires +for th' crool invader, as Finerty says whin th' sub-scriptions r-runs +low. 'Tis th' same name, a good ol' Meath name in th' days gone by; +an' be th' same token I have in me head that this here Count Taaffe, +whether he's an austrich or a canary bur-rd now, is wan iv th' ol' +fam'ly. There's manny iv thim in Europe an' all th' wurruld beside. +There was Pat McMahon, th' Frinchman, that bate Looey Napoleon; an' +O'Donnell, the Spanish juke; an' O'Dhriscoll an' Lynch, who do be th' +whole thing down be South America, not to mention Patsy Bolivar. Ye +can't go annywhere fr'm Sweden to Boolgahria without findin' a Turk +settin' up beside th' king an' dalin' out th' deek with his own hand. +Jawn, our people makes poor Irishmen, but good Dutchmen; an', th' more +I see iv thim, th' more I says to mesilf that th' rale boney fide +Irishman is no more thin a foreigner born away from home. 'Tis so. +</p> + +<p> +"Look at thim, Jawn," continued Mr. Dooley, becoming eloquent. "Whin +there's battles to be won, who do they sind for? McMahon or Shurdan or +Phil Kearney or Colonel Colby. Whin there's books to be wrote, who +writes thim but Char-les Lever or Oliver Goldsmith or Willum Carleton? +Whin there's speeches to be made, who makes thim but Edmund Burke or +Macchew P. Brady? There's not a land on th' face iv th' wurruld but +th' wan where an Irishman doesn't stand with his fellow-man, or above +thim. Whin th' King iv Siam wants a plisint evenin', who does he sind +f'r but a lively Kerry man that can sing a song or play a good hand at +spile-five? Whin th' Sultan iv Boolgahria takes tea, 'tis tin to wan +th' man across fr'm him is more to home in a caubeen thin in a turban. +There's Mac's an' O's in ivry capital iv Europe atin' off silver +plates whin their relations is staggerin' under th' creels iv turf in +th' Connaught bogs. +</p> + +<p> +"Wirra, 'tis hard. Ye'd sa-ay off hand, 'Why don't they do as much for +their own counthry?' Light-spoken are thim that suggests th' like iv +that. 'Tis asier said than done. Ye can't grow flowers in a granite +block, Jawn dear, much less whin th' first shoot 'd be thrampled under +foot without pity. 'Tis aisy f'r us over here, with our bellies full, +to talk iv th' cowardice iv th' Irish; but what would ye have wan man +iv thim do again a rig'mint? 'Tis little fightin' th' lad will want +that will have to be up before sunrise to keep th' smoke curlin' fr'm +th' chimbley or to patch th' rush roof to keep out th' March rain. No, +faith, Jawn, there's no soil in Ireland f'r th' greatness iv th' race; +an' there has been none since th' wild geese wint across th' say to +France, hangin' like flies to th' side iv th' Fr-rinch ship. 'Tis only +f'r women an' childher now, an' thim that can't get away. Will th' +good days ever come again? says ye. Who knows!" +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="serenade"></a> +<p class="title">THE SERENADE. +</p> + + +<p> +"By dad, if it wasn't f'r that there Molly Donahue," said Mr. Dooley +to Mr. McKenna, "half th' life 'd be gone out iv Bridgeport." "What +has Molly Donahue been doin'?" asked Mr. McKenna. +</p> + +<p> +"She have been causin' Felix Pindergasht to be sint to th' Sisters iv +Mercy Hospital with inflammathry rhoomatism. Ye know Felix. He is a +musical janius. Before he was tin year old he had me mind disthracted +be playin' wan iv thim little mouth organs on th' corner near me +bedroom window. Thin he larned to play th' ack-car-jeen, an' cud swing +it between his legs an' give an imitation iv th' cathedral bell that +'d make ye dig in ye'er pocket to see iv ye had a dime f'r a seat. +Thin he used to sit in his window in his shirt-sleeves, blowin' 'Th' +Vale iv Avoca' on a cornet. He was wan whole month before he cud get +th' 'shall fade fr'm me heart' right. Half th' neighborhood 'd be out +on th' sidewalk yellin' 'Lift it, Felix,—lift an' scatther it. Shall +fade fr'm me ha-a-rt,—lift it, ye clumsy piper.' +</p> + +<p> +"A few months back th' stupid gawk begun to be attintive to Molly +Donahue, an', like th' wild wan she is, she dhrew him on. Did ye iver +see th' wan that wudden't? Faith, they're all alike. If it ain't a +sthraight stick, it's a crooked wan; an' th' man was niver yet born, +if he had a hump on his back as big as coal-scuttle an' had a face +like th' back iv a hack, that cudden't get th' wink iv th' eye fr'm +some woman. They're all alike, all alike. Not that I've annything +again thim: 'tis thim that divides our sorrows an' doubles our joys, +an' sews chiny buttons on our pa-ants an' mends our shirts with blue +yarn. But they'll lead a man to desthruction an' back again, thim same +women. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, Felix had no luck coortin' Molly Donahue. Wan night she wasn't +in; an' th' nex' night ol' man Donahue come to th' dure, an' says, 'Ye +can put in th' coal at th' back dure,' he says, an' near broke th' +la-ad's heart. Las' week he pulled himself together, an' wint up th' +r-road again. He took his cornet with him in a green bag; an', whin he +got in front iv Donahue's house, he outs with th' horn, an' begins to +play. Well, sir, at th' first note half th' block was in th' sthreet. +Women come fr'm their houses, with their shawls on their heads; an' +all th' forty-fives games was broke up be raison iv th' la-ads lavin' +f'r to hear the music. Befure Felix had got fairly started f'r to +serrynade Molly Donahue, th' crowd was big an' boistherous. He started +on th' ol' favor-ite, 'Th' Vale iv Avoca'; an' near ivry man in th' +crowd had heerd him practisin' it. He wint along splendid till he come +to 'shall fade fr'm me heart,' an' thin he broke, 'Thry again,' says +th' crowd; an' he stharted over. He done no betther on th' second +whirl. 'Niver say die, Felix,' says th' crowd. "Go afther it. We're +all with ye.' At that th' poor, deluded loon tackled it again; an' th' +crowd yells: 'Hist it up. There ye go. No, be hivins he fell at th' +last jump.' An', by dad, though he thried f'r half an hour, he cud not +land th' 'shall fade fr'm me heart.' At th' last break th' light in +Molly Donahue's window wint out, an' th' crowd dispersed. Felix was +discons'late. 'I had it right befure I come up,' he says, 'but I +missed me holt whin th' crowd come. Me heart's broke,' he says. 'Th' +cornet's not ye'er insthrument,' says Dorsey. 'Ye shud thry to play +th' base dhrum. It's asier.'" +</p> + +<p> +"Is that all that's going on?" asked Mr. McKenna. +</p> + +<p> +"That an' th' death iv wan iv Hinnissy's goats,—Marguerite. No, no, +not that wan. That's Odalia. Th' wan with th' brown spots. That's her. +She thried to ate wan iv thim new theayter posthers, an' perished in +great ag'ny. They say th' corpse turned red at th' wake, but ye can't +believe all ye hear." +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="hay"></a> +<p class="title">THE HAY FLEET. +</p> + + +<p> +Mr. Dooley had been reading about General Shafter's unfortunately +abandoned enterprise for capturing Santiago by means of a load of hay, +and it filled him with great enthusiasm. Laying down his paper, he +said: "By dad, I always said they give me frind Shafter th' worst iv +it. If they'd left him do th' job th' way he wanted to do it, he'd +'ve taken Sandago without losin' an ounce." +</p> + +<p> +"How was it he wanted to do it?" Mr. Hennessy asked. +</p> + +<p> +"Well," said Mr. Dooley, "'twas this way. This is th' way it was. Ol' +Cervera's fleet was in th' harbor an' bottled up, as th' man says. +Shafter he says to Sampson: 'Look here, me bucko, what th' divvle +ar-re ye loafin' ar-round out there f'r,' he says, 'like a dep'ty +sheriff at a prize fight?' he says. 'Why don't ye go in, an' smash th' +Castiles?' he says. 'I'm doin' well where I am,' says Sampson. 'Th' +navy iv th' United States,' he says, 'which is wan iv th' best, if not +th' best, in th' wurruld,' he says, 'was not,' he says, 'intinded f'r +sthreet fightin',' he says. 'We'll stay here,' he says, 'where we +ar-re,' he says, 'until,' he says, 'we can equip th' ships with +noomatic tire wheels,' he says, 'an' ball bearin's,' he says. +</p> + +<p> +"'Well,' says Shafter, 'if ye won't go in,' he says, 'we'll show ye +th' way,' he says. An' he calls on Cap Brice, that was wan iv th' +youngest an' tastiest dhressers in th' whole crool an' devastatin' +war. 'Cap,' he says, 'is they anny hay in th' camp?' he says. +'Slathers iv it,' says th' cap. 'Onless,' he says, 'th' sojers et it,' +he says. 'Th' las' load iv beef that come down fr'm th' undhertakers,' +he says, 'was not good,' he says. 'Ayether,' he says, ''twas +improperly waked,' he says, 'or,' he says, 'th' pall-bearers was +careless,' he says. 'Annyhow,' he says, 'th' sojers won't eat it; an', +whin I left, they was lookin' greedily at th' hay,' he says. 'Cap,' +says Gin'ral Shafter, 'if anny man ates a wisp, shoot him on th' +spot,' he says. 'Those hungry sojers may desthroy me hopes iv +victhry,' he says. 'What d'ye mane?' says Cap Brice. 'I mane this,' +says Gin'ral Shafter. 'I mane to take yon fortress,' he says. 'I'll +sind ye in, Cap,' he says, 'in a ship protected be hay,' he says. 'Her +turrets 'll be alfalfa, she'll have three inches iv solid timithy to +th' water line, an' wan inch iv th' best clover below th' wather +line,' he says. 'Did ye iver see an eight-inch shell pinithrate a bale +iv hay?' he says. 'I niver did,' says Cap Brice. 'Maybe that was +because I niver see it thried,' he says. 'Be that as it may,' says +Gin'ral Shafter, 'ye niver see it done. No more did I,' he says. +'Onless,' he says, 'they shoot pitchforks,' he says, 'they'll niver +hur-rt ye,' he says. 'Ye'll be onvincible,' he says. 'Ye'll pro-ceed +into th' harbor,' he says, 'behind th' sturdy armor iv projuce,' he +says. 'Let ye'er watchword be "Stay on th' far-rm," an' go on to +victhry,' he says. 'Gin'ral,' says Cap Brice, 'how can I thank ye f'r +th' honor?' he says. ''Tis no wondher th' men call ye their fodder,' +he says. 'Twas a joke Cap Brice med at th' time. 'I'll do th' best I +can,' he says; 'an', if I die in th' attempt,' he says, 'bury me where +the bran-mash 'll wave over me grave,' he says. +</p> + +<p> +"An' Gin'ral Shafter he got together his fleet, an' put th' armor on +it. 'Twas a formidable sight. They was th' cruiser 'Box Stall,' full +armored with sixty-eight bales iv th' finest grade iv chopped feed; +th' 'R-red Barn,' a modhern hay battleship, protected be a whole mow +iv timothy; an' th' gallant little 'Haycock,' a torpedo boat shootin' +deadly missiles iv explosive oats. Th' expedition was delayed be wan +iv th' mules sthrollin' down to th' shore an' atin' up th' afther +batthry an' par-rt iv th' ram iv th' 'R-red Barn' an', befure repairs +was made, Admiral Cervera heerd iv what was goin' on. 'Glory be to the +saints,' he says, 'what an injaynious thribe these Yankees is!' says +he. 'On'y a few weeks ago they thried to desthroy me be dumpin' a load +iv coal on me,' he says; 'an' now,' he says, 'they're goin' to +smother me in feed,' he says. 'They'll be rollin' bar'ls iv flour on +me fr'm th' heights next,' he says. 'I'd betther get out,' he says. +''Tis far nobler,' he says, 'to purrish on th' ragin' main,' he says, +'thin to die with ye'er lungs full iv hayseed an' ye'er eyes full iv +dust,' he says. 'I was born in a large city,' he says; 'an' I don't +know th' rules iv th' barn,' he says. An' he wint out, an' took his +lickin'. +</p> + +<p> +"'Twas too bad Shafter didn't get a chanst at him, but he's give th' +tip to th' la-ads that makes th' boats. No more ixpinsive steel an' +ir'n, but good ol' grass fr'm th' twinty-acre meadow. Th' ship-yards +'ll be moved fr'm th' say, an' laid down in th' neighborhood iv Polo, +Illinye, an' all th' Mississippi Valley 'll ring with th' sound iv th' +scythe an' th' pitchfork buildin' th' definse iv our counthry's honor. +Thank th' Lord, we've winrows an' winrows iv Shafter's armor plate +between here an' Dubuque." +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Hennessy said good-night. "As me cousin used to say," he remarked, +"we're through with wan hell iv a bad year, an' here goes f'r another +like it." +</p> + +<p> +"Well," said Mr. Dooley, "may th' Lord niver sind us a foolisher wan +than this!" +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="performance"></a> +<p class="title">THE PERFORMANCES OF LIEUTENANT HOBSON. +</p> + + +<p> +"If I'd been down to th' Audjitooroom th' other night," said Mr. +Hennessy, "an' had a chunk iv coal fr'm th' sunk 'Merrimac,' I'd iv +handed it to that man Loot Hobson. I wud so. Th' idee iv a hero +standin' up befure thousan's iv men with fam'lies an' bein' assaulted +be ondacint females. It med me blush down to th' soles iv me feet. If +they let this thing go on, be hivins, why do they stop th' +hootchy-kootchy?" +</p> + +<p> +"Ividinces iv affection is always odjious to an Irishman," said Mr. +Dooley, "an' to all reel affectionate people. But me frind Hobson's +not to blame. 'Tis th' way th' good Lord has iv makin' us cow'rds +continted with our lot that he niver med a brave man yet that wasn't +half a fool. I've more sinse an' wisdom in th' back iv me thumb thin +all th' heroes in th' wurruld. That's why I ain't a hero. If Hobson +had intilligence, he'd be wurrukin' in th' post-office; an', if anny +ol' hin thried to kiss him, he'd call f'r th' polis. Bein' young an' +foolish, whin me frind Sampson says, 'Is there anny man here that 'll +take this ol' coal barge in beyant an' sink it, an' save us th' +throuble iv dhrownin' on our way home?' Loot Hobson says, says he: +'Here I am, Cap,' says he. 'I'll take it in,' he says, 'an' seal up +th' hated Castiles,' he says, 'so that they can niver get out,' he +says. 'But,' he says, 'I'll lave a hole f'r thim to get out whin they +want to get out,' he says. An' he tuk some other la-ads,—I f'rget +their names,—they wasn't heroes, annyhow, but was wurrukin' be th' +day; an' he wint in in his undherclothes, so's not to spoil his suit, +an' th' Castiles hurled death an' desthruction on him. An' it niver +touched him no more thin it did anny wan else; an' thin they riscued +him fr'm himsilf, an' locked him up in th' polis station an' fed him +th' best they knew how. An' he wint on a lecther tour, an' here he is. +Be hivins, I think he's more iv a hero now thin iver he was. I'd stand +up befure a cross-eyed Spanish gunner an' take his shootin' without a +mask mesilf; but I'd shy hard if anny ol' heifer come up, an' thried +to kiss me. +</p> + +<p> +"On th' flure iv th' 'Merrimac,' in his light undherclothes, Loot +Hobson was a sthrong, foolish man. On th' stage iv th' Audjitooroom, +bein' caressed be women that 'd kiss th' Indyun in front iv a see-gar +sthore, if he didn't carry a tommyhawk, he's still foolish, but not +sthrong. 'Tis so with all heroes. Napolyeon Bonyparte, th' Impror iv +th' Fr-rinch, had manny carryin's on, I've heerd tell; an' ivry man +knows that, whin Jawn Sullivan wasn't in th' r-ring, he was no +incyclopedja f'r intelligence. No wan thried to kiss him, though. They +knew betther. +</p> + +<p> +"An' Hobson 'll larn. He's young yet, th' Loot is; an' he's goin' out +to th' Ph'lippeens to wurruk f'r Cousin George. Cousin George is no +hero, an' 'tisn't on record that anny wan iver thried to scandalize +his good name be kissin' him. I'd as lave, if I was a foolish woman, +which, thanks be, I'm not, hug a whitehead torpedo as Cousin George. +He'll be settin' up on th' roof iv his boat, smokin' a good see-gar, +an' wondhrin' how manny iv th' babbies named afther him 'll be in th' +pinitinchry be th' time he gets back home. Up comes me br-rave Hobson. +'Who ar-re ye, disturbin' me quite?' says Cousin George. 'I'm a hero,' +says th' Loot. 'Ar-re ye, faith?' says Cousin George. 'Well,' he says, +'I can't do annything f'r ye in that line,' he says. 'All th' hero +jobs on this boat,' he says, 'is compitintly filled,' he says, 'be +mesilf,' he says. 'I like to see th' wurruk well done,' he says, 'so,' +he says, 'I don't thrust it to anny wan,' he says. 'With th' aid iv a +small boy, who can shovel more love letthers an' pothry overboard thin +anny wan I iver see,' he says, 'I'm able to clane up me hero business +before noon ivry day,' he says. 'What's ye'er name?' he says. +'Hobson,' says th' loot. 'Niver heerd iv ye, says Cousin George. +'Where 'd ye wurruk last?' 'Why,' says th' Loot, 'I'm th' man that sunk +th' ship,' he says; 'an' I've been kissed be hundherds iv women at +home,' he says. 'Is that so?' says Cousin George. 'Well, I don't +b'lieve in sinkin' me own ship,' he says. 'Whin I'm lookin' f'r a +divarsion iv that kind, I sink somebody else's,' he says. ''Tis +cheaper. As f'r th' other thing,' he says, 'th' less ye say about +that, th' betther,' he says. 'If some iv these beauchious Ph'lippeen +belles ar-round here hears,' he says, 'that ye're in that line, they +may call on ye to give ye a chaste salute,' he says, 'an',' he says, +'f'rget,' he says, 'to take th' see-gars out iv their mouths,' he +says. 'Ye desthroyed a lot iv coal, ye tell me,' he says. 'Do ye,' he +says, 'go downstairs now, an' shovel up a ton or two iv it,' he says. +'Afther which,' he says, 'ye can roll a kag iv beer into me bedroom,' +he says; 'f'r 'tis dhry wurruk settin' up here watchin' ixpansion +ixpand,' he says. +</p> + +<p> +"That's what Cousin George 'll say to th' Loot. An', whin th' Loot +comes back, he won't be a hero anny more; an', if anny woman thries to +kiss him, he'll climb a three. Cousin George 'll make a man iv him. +'Tis kicks, not kisses, that makes men iv heroes." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, mebbe ye're r-right," said Mr. Hennessy. "He's nawthin' but a +kid, annyhow,—no oldher thin me oldest boy; an' I know what a fool +he'd be if anny wan ast him to be more iv a fool thin he is. Hobson +'ll be famous, no matther what foolish things he does." +</p> + +<p> +"I dinnaw," said Mr. Dooley. "It was headed f'r him; but I'm afraid, +as th' bull-yard players 'd say, fame's been kissed off." +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="decline"></a> +<p class="title">THE DECLINE OF NATIONAL FEELING. +</p> + + +<p> +"What ar-re ye goin' to do Patrick's Day?" asked Mr. Hennessy. +</p> + +<p> +"Patrick's Day?" said Mr. Dooley. "Patrick's Day? It seems to me I've +heard th' name befure. Oh, ye mane th' day th' low Irish that hasn't +anny votes cillybrates th' birth iv their naytional saint, who was a +Fr-rinchman." +</p> + +<p> +"Ye know what I mane," said Mr. Hennessy, with rising wrath. "Don't ye +get gay with me now." +</p> + +<p> +"Well," said Mr. Dooley, "I may cillybrate it an' I may not. I'm +thinkin' iv savin' me enthusyasm f'r th' queen's birthday, whiniver it +is that that blessid holiday comes ar-round. Ye see, Hinnissy, +Patrick's Day is out iv fashion now. A few years ago ye'd see the +Prisident iv th' United States marchin' down Pinnsylvanya Avnoo, with +the green scarf iv th' Ancient Ordher on his shoulders an' a shamrock +in his hat. Now what is Mack doin'? He's settin' in his parlor, +writin' letthers to th' queen, be hivins, askin' afther her health. He +was fr'm th' north iv Ireland two years ago, an' not so far north +ayether,—just far enough north f'r to be on good terms with Derry an' +not far enough to be bad frinds with Limerick. He was raised on +butthermilk an' haggis, an' he dhrank his Irish nate with a dash iv +orange bitthers in it. He's been movin' steadily north since; an', if +he keeps on movin', he'll go r-round th' globe, an' bring up somewhere +in th' south iv England. +</p> + +<p> +"An' Hinnery Cabin Lodge! I used to think that Hinnery would niver die +contint till he'd took th' Prince iv Wales be th' hair iv th' +head,—an' 'tis little th' poor man's got,—an' dhrag him fr'm th' +tower iv London to Kilmainham Jail, an' hand him over to th' tindher +mercies, as Hogan says, iv Michael Davitt. Thim was th' days whin ye'd +hear Hinnery in th' Sinit, spreadin' fear to th' hear-rts iv th' +British aristocracy. 'Gintlemen,' he says, 'an' fellow-sinitors, th' +time has come,' he says, 'whin th' eagle burrud iv freedom,' he says, +'lavin',' he says, 'its home in th' mountains,' he says, 'an' +circlin',' he says, 'undher th' jool 'd hivin,' he says, 'fr'm where,' +he says, 'th' Passamaquoddy rushes into Lake Erastus K. Ropes,' he +says, 'to where rowls th' Oregon,' he says, 'fr'm th' lakes to th' +gulf,' he says, 'fr'm th' Atlantic to th' Passific where rowls th' +Oregon,' he says, 'an' fr'm ivry American who has th' blood iv his +ancesthors' hathred iv tyranny in his veins,—your ancesthors an' +mine, Mr. McAdoo,' he says,—'there goes up a mute prayer that th' +nation as wan man, fr'm Bangor, Maine, to where rowls th' Oregon, +that,' he says, 'is full iv salmon, which is later put up in cans, but +has th' same inthrest as all others in this question,' he says, +'that,' he says, 'th' descindants iv Wash'nton an',' he says, 'iv +Immitt,' he says, 'will jine hands f'r to protect,' he says, 'th' +codfisheries again th' Vandal hand iv th' British line,' he says. 'I +therefore move ye, Mr. Prisident, that it is th' sinse iv this house, +if anny such there be, that Tay Pay O'Connor is a greater man thin +Lord Salisberry,' he says. +</p> + +<p> +"Now where's Hinnery? Where's th' bould Fenian? Where's th' +moonlighter? Where's th' pikeman? Faith, he's changed his chune, an' +'tis 'Sthrangers wanst, but brothers now,' with him, an' 'Hands acrost +th' sea an' into some wan's pocket,' an' 'Take up th' white man's +burden an' hand it to th' coons,' an' 'An open back dure an' a closed +fr-ront dure.' 'Tis th' same with all iv thim. They'se me frind Joe +Choate. Where 'd Joe spind th' night? Whisper, in Windsor Castle, no +less, in a night-shirt iv th' Prince iv Wales; an' the nex' mornin', +whin he come downstairs, they tol' him th' rile fam'ly was late +risers, but, if he wanted a good time, he cud go down an' look at th' +cimitry! An' he done it. He went out an' wept over th' grave iv th' +Father iv his Counthry. Ye'er man, George Washington, Hinnissy, was +on'y th' stepfather. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, glory be, th' times has changed since me frind Jawn Finerty +come out iv th' House iv Riprisintatives; an', whin some wan ast him +what was goin' on, he says, 'Oh, nawthin' at all but some damned +American business.' Thim was th' days! An' what's changed thim? Well, +I might be sayin' 'twas like wanst whin me cousin Mike an' a Kerry man +be th' name iv Sullivan had a gredge again a man named Doherty, that +was half a Kerry man himsilf. They kept Doherty indures f 'r a day, +but by an' by me cousin Mike lost inthrest in th' gredge, havin' +others that was newer, an' he wint over to th' ya-ards; an' Doherty +an' Sullivan begin to bow to each other, an' afther a while they found +that they were blood relations, an', what's closer thin that whin +ye're away fr'm home, townies. An' they hooked arms, an' sthrutted up +an' down th' road, as proud as imprors. An' says they, 'We can lick +annything in th' ward,' says they. But, before they injyed th' +'lieance f'r long, around th' corner comes me cousin Mike, with a +half-brick in each hand; an' me brave Sullivan gives Doherty th' Kerry +man's thrip, an' says he, 'Mike,' he says, 'I was on'y pullin' him on +to give ye a crack at him,' he says. An' they desthroyed Doherty, so +that he was in bed f'r a week." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, I wondher will Mike come back?" said Mr. Hennessy. +</p> + +<p> +"Me cousin Mike," said Mr. Dooley, "niver missed an iliction. An' whin +th' campaign opened, there wasn't a man on th' ticket, fr'm mayor to +constable, that didn't claim him f'r a first cousin. There are +different kinds iv hands from acrost th' sea. There are pothry hands +an' rollin'-mill hands; but on'y wan kind has votes." +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="cyrano"></a> +<p class="title">"CYRANO DE BERGERAC." +</p> + + +<p> +"Ivry winter Hogan's la-ad gives a show with what he calls th' Sixth +Wa-ard Shakspere an' Willum J. Bryan Club, an' I was sayjooced into +goin' to wan las' night at Finucane's hall," said Mr. Dooley. +</p> + +<p> +"Th' girls was goin'," said Mr. Hennessy; "but th' sthovepipe come +down on th' pianny, an' we had a minsthrel show iv our own. What was +it about, I dinnaw?" +</p> + +<p> +"Well, sir," said Mr. Dooley, "I ain't much on th' theayter. I niver +wint to wan that I didn't have to stand where I cud see a man in blue +overalls scratchin' his leg just beyant where the heeroyne was prayin' +on th' palace stairs, an' I don't know much about it; but it seemed to +me, an' it seemed to Hartigan, th' plumber, that was with me, that +'twas a good play if they'd been a fire in th' first act. They was a +lot iv people there; an', if it cud 've been arranged f'r to have +injine company fifteen with Cap'n Duffy at th' head iv thim come in +through a window an' carry off th' crowd, 'twud've med a hit with me. +</p> + +<p> +"'Tis not like anny play I iver see before or since. In 'Tur-rble Tom; +or, th' Boys iv Ninety-eight,' that I see wanst, th' man that's th' +main guy iv th' thing he waits till ivry wan has said what he has to +say, an' he has a clean field; an' thin he jumps in as th' man that +plays th' big dhrum gives it an upper cut. But with this here play iv +'Cyrus O'Bergerac' 'tis far diff'rent. Th' curtain goes up an' shows +Bill Delaney an' little Tim Scanlan an' Mark Toolan an' Packy Dugan, +that wurruks in the shoe store, an' Molly Donahue an' th' Casey +sisters, thim that scandalized th' parish be doin' a skirt dance at +th' fair, all walkin' up an' down talkin'. 'Tin to wan on Sharkey,' +says Toolan. 'I go ye, an' make it a hundherd,' says Tim Scanlan. 'Was +ye at th' cake walk?' 'Who stole me hat?' 'Cudden't ye die waltzin'?' +'They say Murphy has gone on th' foorce.' 'Hivins, there goes th' las' +car!' 'Pass th' butther, please: I'm far fr'm home.' All iv thim +talkin' away at once, niver carin' f'r no wan, whin all at wanst up +stheps me bold Hogan with a nose on him,—glory be, such a nose! I +niver see th' like on a man or an illyphant. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, sir, Hogan is Cy in th' play; an' th' beak is pa-art iv him. +What does he do? He goes up to Toolan, an' says he: 'Ye don't like me +nose. It's an ilicthric light globe. Blow it out. It's a Swiss cheese. +Cut it off, if ye want to. It's a brick in a hat. Kick it. It's a +balloon. Hang a basket on it, an' we'll have an' ascinsion. It's a +dure-bell knob. Ring it. It's a punchin' bag. Hit it, if ye dahr. F'r +two pins I'd push in th' face iv ye.' An', mind ye, Hinnissy, Toolan +had said not wan wurrud about th' beak,—not wan wurrud. An' ivry wan +in th' house was talkin' about it, an' wondhrin' whin it 'd come off +an' smash somewan's fut. I looked f'r a fight there an' thin. But +Toolan's a poor-spirited thing, an' he wint away. At that up comes +Scanlan; an' says he: 'Look here, young fellow,' he says, 'don't get +gay,' he says, 'don't get gay,' he says. 'What's that?' says Hogan. +Whin a man says, 'What's that?' in a bar-room, it manes a fight, if he +says it wanst. If he says it twict, it manes a fut race. 'I say,' says +Scanlan, 'that, if ye make anny more funny cracks, I'll hitch a horse +to that basket fender,' he says, 'an' dhrag it fr'm ye,' he says. At +that Hogan dhrew his soord, an' says he: 'Come on,' he says, 'come on, +an' take a lickin,' he says. An' Scanlan dhrew his soord, too. 'Wait,' +says Hogan. 'Wait a minyit,' he says. 'I must think,' he says. 'I must +think a pome,' he says. 'Whiniver I fight,' he says, 'I always have a +pome,' he says. 'Glory be,' says I, 'there's Scanlan's chanst to give +it to him,' I says. But Scanlan was as slow as a dhray; an', before he +cud get action, Hogan was at him, l'adin' with th' pome an' counthrin' +with the soord. 'I'll call this pome,' he says, 'a pome about a gazabo +I wanst had a dool with in Finucane's hall,' he says. 'I'll threat ye +r-right,' he says, 'an' at the last line I'll hand ye wan,' he says. +An' he done it. 'Go in,' he says in th' pome, 'go in an' do ye'er +worst,' he says. 'I make a pass at ye'er stomach,' he says, 'I cross +ye with me right,' he says; 'an,' he says at th' last line, he says, +'I soak ye,' he says. An' he done it. Th' minyit 'twas over with th' +pome 'twas off with Scanlan. Th' soord wint into him, an' he sunk down +to th' flure; an' they had to carry him off. Well, sir, Hogan was that +proud ye cudden't hold him f'r th' rest iv th' night. He wint around +ivrywhere stickin' people an' soakin' thim with pothry. He's a gr-reat +pote is this here Hogan, an' a gr-reat fighter. He done thim all at +both; but, like me ol' frind Jawn L., he come to th' end. A man +dhropped a two-be-four on his head wan day, an' he died. Honoria Casey +was with him as he passed away, an' she says, 'How d'ye feel?' 'All +right,' says Hogan. 'But wan thing I'll tell ye has made life worth +livin',' he says. 'What's that?' says Miss Casey. 'I know,' says I. +'Annywan cud guess it. He manes his nose,' I says. But ivrywan on th' +stage give it up. 'Ye don't know,' says Hogan. ''Tis me hat,' he says; +an', makin a low bow to th' aujience, he fell to th' flure so hard +that his nose fell off an' rowled down on Mike Finnegan. 'I don't like +th' play,' says Finnegan, 'an' I'll break ye'er nose,' he says; an' he +done it. He's a wild divvle. Hogan thried to rayturn th' compliment on +th' sidewalk afterward; but he cudden't think iv a pome, an' Finnegan +done him." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, said Mr. Hennessy, "I'd like to've been there to see th' +fightin'." +</p> + +<p> +"In th' play?" asked Mr. Dooley. +</p> + +<p> +"No," said Mr. Hennessy. "On th' sidewalk." +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="union"></a> +<p class="title">THE UNION OF TWO GREAT FORTUNES. +</p> + + +<p> +"They'se wan thing that always makes me feel sure iv what Hogan calls +th' safety iv our dimmycratic institutions," said Mr. Dooley, "an' +that's th' intherest th' good people iv New York takes in a weddin' iv +th' millyionaires. Anny time a millyionaire condiscinds to enther th' +martial state, as Hogan says, an', as Hogan says, make vows to Hyman, +which is the Jew god iv marredge, he can fill th' house an' turn +people away fr'm th' dure. An' he does. Th' sthreets is crowded. Th' +cars can har'ly get through. Th' polis foorce is out, an' hammerin' +th' heads iv th' delighted throng. Riprisintatives iv th' free an' +inlightened press, th' pollutyem iv our liberties, as Hogan says, +bright, intilligent young journalists, iver ready to probe fraud an' +sham, disgeezed as waithers, is dashin' madly about, makin' notes on +their cuffs. Business is suspinded. They'se no money in Wall Sthreet. +It's all at th' sacred scene. Hour be hour, as th' prisints ar-re +delivered, th' bank rates go up. Th' Threeasury Departmint has to go +on a silver basis, there bein' no goold to mannyfacther into plunks. +</p> + +<p> +"Inside th' house th' prisints cast a goolden gleam on th' beauchious +scene. Th' happy father is seen seated at a table, dictattin' +millyion-dollar checks to a stinographer. Th' goold chandeliers is +draped with r-ropes iv dimon's an' pearls. Th' hired girl is passin' +dhrinks in goolden goblets. Twinty firemen fr'm th' New York Cinthral +Railroad is shovellin' dimon'-studded pickle crutes into th' back +yard, among th' yachts an' horses. Chansy Depoo enthers an' thrips +over a box iv bonds. 'Ar-re these th' holy bonds iv mathrimony?' he +says; f'r he is a wild divvle, an' ye can't stop his jokin', avin on +solemn occasions. +</p> + +<p> +"Th' soggarth comes in afther a while, carryin' a goold prayer-book, +th' gift iv th' Rothscheelds, an' stands behind a small but vallyable +pree Doo. To th' soft, meelojous chune iv th' Wagner Palace Weddin' +March fr'm 'Long Green,' th' groom enthers, simply but ixpinsively +attired in governmint fours, an' fannin' himsilf with a bunch iv first +morgedge bonds. +</p> + +<p> +"Th' prayers f'r th' occasion, printed on negotyable paper, is +disthributed among th' guests. Th' bride was delayed be th' crowd +outside. Women screamed an' waved their handkerchefs, sthrong men +cheered an' wept; an' 'twas not until th' polis had clubbed tin hardy +pathrites to death that th' lady cud enther th' house where her fate +was to be sealed. But fin'lly she med it; an' th' two happy, happy +childher, whose sunshiny youth riprisinted five thousan' miles iv +thrack, eight goold mines, wan hundherd millyion dollars' worth iv +rollin' stock, an' a majority intherest in th' Chicago stock yards, +was r-ready f'r th' nicissary thransfers that wud establish th' +combination. +</p> + +<p> +"Th' ceremony was brief, but intherestin'. Th' happy father foorced +his way through dimon' stomachers; an' they was tears in his eyes as +he handed th' clargyman, whose name was Murphy,—but he carried +himsilf as well as if he was used to it,—handed him a check f'r tin +millyion dollars. I don't blame him. Divvle th' bit! Me own hear-rt is +har-rd an' me eyes ar-re dhry, but I'd break down if I had to hand +anny wan that much. 'I suppose th' check is good,' says th' clargyman, +''Tis certified,' says th' weepin' father. 'Do ye take this check,' +says th' clargyman, 'to have an' to hold, until some wan parts ye fr'm +it?' he says. 'I do,' says th' young man. 'Thin,' says th' clargyman, +'I see no reason why ye shudden't be marrid an' live comfortable,' he +says. An' marrid they were, in th' same ol' foolish way that people's +been marrid in f'r cinchries. 'Tis a wondher to me th' ceremony ain't +changed. Th' time is comin', Hinnissy, whin millyionaires 'll not be +marrid be Father Murphy, but be th' gov'nors iv th' stock exchange. +They'll be put through th' clearin' house, me faith, an' securities +'ll be issued be th' combination. Twinty-year, goold-secured, four +per cint bonds iv mathrimony! Aha, 'tis a joke that Chansy Depoo +might 've med! +</p> + +<p> +"Th' crowd outside waited, cheerin' an' fightin' th' polis. In this +here land iv liberty an' akequality, Hinnissy, ivry man is as good as +ivry other man, except a polisman. An' it showed how thrue th' people +in New York is to th' thraditions iv Jefferson that divvle a wan iv +thim 'd move away till th' check 'd been passed fr'm father to son, an' +th' important part iv th' sacred ceremony was over. Thin a few iv thim +wint home to cook dinner f'r their husbands, who was previnted be +their jooties at th' gas-house fr'm attindin' th' function. Th' rest +raymained an' see th' two gr-reat fortunes get into their carredge, +pursued be th' guests to th' amount iv five hundherd millyions, +peltin' thim with seed pearls." +</p> + +<p> +"Sure," said Mr. Hennessy, "mebbe 'twasn't as bad as th' pa-apers let +on. Ye can't always thrust thim." +</p> + +<p> +"P'rhaps not," said Mr. Dooley. "Th' pa-apers say, 'Two gr-reat +fortunes united'; an', if that's it, they didn't need th' sarvices iv +a priest, but a lawyer an' a thrust comp'ny. P'rhaps, with all th' +certyfied checks, 'twas two rale people that was marrid; an', if +that's so, it explains th' prisince if Father Murphy." +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="dreyfus"></a> +<p class="title">THE DREYFUS CASE. +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="I"></a> +<p class="title">I.</p> + + +<p> +"Th' scene was treemenjously excitin'. Th' little city iv Rennes was +thronged with des'prit journalists that had pledged their fortunes an' +their sacred honors, an' manny iv thim their watches, to be prisint +an' protect th' public again th' degradin' facts. Niver since th' war +in Cubia has so manny iv these brave fellows been gathered together at +th' risk iv their lives fr'm overcrowdin' th' resthrants. No wan has +iver sufficiently described th' turrors iv a corryspondint's life +excipt th' corryspondints thimsilves. Gin'rals an' other liars is +rewarded. Th' corryspondint gets no credit. No wan will give him +credit. Still he sticks to his post; an' on this pearlous day he was +at Rennes, fightin' th' other corryspondints, or, if he was an English +journalist, defindin' th' honor iv Fr-rance again hersilf. 'Tis a good +thing for Fr-rance that there ar-re silf-sacrificin' men that don't +undherstand her language, to presint her vicious nature to th' English +an' American public. Otherwise, Hinnissy, she might think she was as +good as th' rest iv us. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, while th' sthreets in Rennes was packed with these dauntless +souls, ar-rmed with death-dealin' kodaks, there was a commotion near +th' coort-house. Was it a rivolution? Was this th' beginnin' iv +another Saint Barth'mew's Day, whin th' degraded passions in Fr-rance, +pent up durin' three hundherd years, 'd break forth again? Was it th' +signal iv another div'lish outbreak that 'd show th' thrue nature iv +th' Fr-rinch people, disgeezed behind a varnish iv ojoous politeness +which our waiters know nawthin' about? No, alas! alas! 'twas nawthin' +a man cud make more thin a column iv. 'Twas th' ac-cursed janitor +goin' in to open th' degraded windows. Abase th' janitor, abase th' +windows! Fear followed uncertainty. No wan knew what moment he might +be called upon to defind his life with his honor. Suddenly th' brutal +polisman who sthud on gyard waved his hand. What cud the brave men do? +They were obliged to rethreat in disordher. But our special +corryspondint was able f'r to obtain a fine view of th' thrillin' +scene that followed. First came th' coort, weepin'. They was followed +be th' gin'rals in th' Fr-rinch ar-rmy, stalwart, fearless men, with +coarse, disagreeable faces. Each gin'ral was attinded be his private +bodygyard iv thried and thrusted perjurers, an' was followed be a +wagon-load iv forgeries, bogus affidavies, an' other statements iv +Major Estherhazy. Afther thim come th' former ministers iv th' +Fr-rinch governmint, makin' an imposin' line, which took three hours +passin' a given point. As they marched, it was seen that they were +shyly kickin' each other. +</p> + +<p> +"An interval iv silence followed, in which cud be heard cries iv +'Abase Dhryfuss!' an' 'Abase Fr-rance!' an' thin come th' man on whom +th' lies iv all th' wurruld is cinthred. Captain Dhryfuss plainly +shows his throubles, which have made him look tin years younger. His +raven hair is intirely white; an' his stalwart frame, with th' +shoulders thrown back, is stooped an' weary. His haggard face was +flushed with insolent confidence, an' th' cowa'dice in his face showed +in his fearless eye. As he passed, a young Fr-rinch sojer was with +diff'culty resthrained fr'm sthrikin' him an' embracin' him with tears +in his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +"In th' coort-room th' scene baffled description. It was an inspirin' +sight f'r th' judges, whin they were awake. Row on row iv journalists, +sharpin' pencils an' slappin' each other's faces, r-rose to th' +ceilin'. Here an' there cud be seen a brillyant uniform, denotin' th' +prisince iv th' London Times corryspondint. Th' lawn behind th' coort +was thronged with ex-mimbers iv th' Fr-rinch governmint. Th' gin'ral +staff, bein' witnesses f'r th' prosecution, sat with th' coort: th' +pris'ner, not bein' able to find a chair, sat on th' window-sill. His +inthrest in th' proceedin's was much noticed, an' caused gr-reat +amusement. Ivrybody was talkin' about th' mysteryous lady in white. +Who is she? Some say she is a Dhryfussard in th' imploy iv +Rothscheeld; others, that she is an agent iv th' Anti-Semites. No wan +has learned her name. She says she is Madame Lucille Gazahs, iv wan +hundherd an' eight Rue le Bombon, an' is a fav'rite iv th' Fr-rinch +stage. She is wan iv th' great mysthries iv this ree-markable thrile. +</p> + +<p> +"Afther th' coort had kissed th' witnesses, th' proceedin's opined. +'Tis thrue, they kiss each other. I wanst see a Fr-rinchman go f'r to +kiss a man be th' name iv Doherty, that inthrajooced risolutions in +favor iv Fr-rance again Germany at a convintion. Doherty thought he +was afther his ear, an' laid him out. But in Fr-rance 'tis different. +They begin be kissin', an' this thrile opined this way. +</p> + +<p> +"'Pris'ner,' said th' prisident iv th' coort, 'th' eyes iv Fr-rance is +upon us, th' honor iv th' nation is at stake. Th' naytional definces, +th' integrity iv that ar-rmy upon which Fr-rance must depind in time +iv peace, th' virtue iv public life, an' th' receipts iv th' +exposition is involved. Incidentally, ye ar-re bein' thried. But why +dhrag in matthers iv no importance? We ar-re insthructed, accordin' to +th' pa-apers, be th' Coort iv Cassation, to permit no ividince that +does not apply to your connection with th' case. As sojers, we bow to +th' superyor will. We will follow out th' instructions iv th' supreme +coort. We have not had time to read thim, but we will look at thim +afther th' thrile. In th' mane time we will call upon Gin'ral Merceer, +that gallant man, to tell us th' sthory iv his life.' +</p> + +<p> +"'I obey, mon colonel,' says Gin'ral Merceer, kissin' th' coort. 'Not +to begin too far back, an' to make a long sthory short, I am an honest +man, an' th' son iv an honest man. I admit it.' +</p> + +<p> +"'Good,' says th' prisident. 'D'ye recognize th' pris'ner?' 'I do,' +says Gin'ral Merceer, 'I seen him wanst dhrinkin' a shell iv Munich +beer in a caafe. [Marked sensation in th' coort, an' cries iv 'Abase +la bock.'] +</p> + +<p> +"'I says to mesilf thin, "This man is a thraitor." But th' thrainin' +iv a sojer makes wan cautious. I determined to fortify mesilf with +ividince. I put spies on this man, this perfiejous wretch, an' +discovered nawthin'. I was paralyzed. An officer iv th' Fr-rinch +ar-rmy, an' nawthin' suspicyous about him! Damnable! I was with +difficulty resthrained fr'm killin' him. But I desisted. [Cries iv +'Shame!'] I said to mesilf: "Th' honor iv Fr-rance is at stake. Th' +whole wurruld is lookin' at me, at me, Bill Merceer. I will go to bed +an' think it over." I wint to bed. Sleep, blessed sleep that sews up +th' confused coat-sleeve iv care, as th' perfiejous Shakspere [cries +iv 'Conspuez Shakspere!'] says, dayscinded on me tired eyes. [The +coort weeps.] I laid aside me honor [cries iv 'Brave gin'ral'] with me +coat [murmurs]. I slept. +</p> + +<p> +"'I dhreamed that I see th' German Impror playin' a Jew's-harp. [Cries +iv 'Abase Rothscheeld!' an' sensation.] I woke with a vi'lent start, +th' perspiration poorin' fr'm me rugged brow. "Cap Dhryfuss is +guilty," I cried. But no, I will confirm me ividince. I darted into me +r-red pants. I dhruv with fury to th' home iv Madame Cleepathry, th' +cillibrated Agyptian asthrologist an' med'cin woman. [Th' coort, 'We +know her, she supplies ividence to all Fr-rinch coorts.'] I tol' her +me dhream. She projoosed a pack iv cards. She tur-rned a r-red king +an' a black knave. "Th' Impror Willum an' Cap Dhryfuss," I says, in a +fury. I burst forth. I had Cap Dhryfuss arristed. I dashed to th' +prisident. He was a-receivin' rayfusals f'r a new cabinet. "I have +found th' thraitor," says I. "Hush!" says he. "If th' Impror Willum +hears ye, he'll declare war," he says. I was stupefied. "Oh, my +beloved counthry!" I cried. "Oh, hivin!" I cried. "What shall I do?" I +cried. They was not a minyit to lose. I disbanded th' ar-rmy. I +ordhered th' navy into dhry dock. I had me pitcher took, I wint home +an' hid in th' cellar. F'r wan night Fr-rance was safe.' +</p> + +<p> +"They was hardly a dhry eye in th' house whin th' gin'ral paused. Th' +coort wept. Th' aujience wept. Siv'ral of th' minor journalists was +swept out iv th' room in th' flood. A man shovellin' coal in th' +cellar sint up f'r an umbrella. Th' lawn shook with th' convulsive +sobs iv th' former ministers. Gin'ral Merceer raised his damp face, +an' blew a kiss to a former minister at wan iv th' windows, an' +resumed his tistimony." +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="II"></a> +<p class="title">II.</p> + + +<p> +"'It was about this time or some years later,' continues Gin'ral +Merceer, 'that I received ividince iv th' Cap's guilt. I made it +mesilf. It was a letter written be me fr'm th' Cap to a German grocer, +askin' f'r twinty r-rounds iv sausage. [Turmoil in the coort.] It was +impossible, mon colonel, that this here letter cud have been written +be Estherhazy. In th' first place he was in Paris at th' time, in th' +sicond place he was in London. Th' letter is not in his handwritin', +but in th' handwritin' iv Colonel Pat th' Clam. Thin again I wrote th' +letter mesilf. Thin who cud 've written it? It must 've been Cap +Dhryfuss. [Cheers fr'm th' coort.] I give me reasons as they occurred +to me: First, th' Armeenyan athrocities; sicond, th' risignation iv +Gin'ral Alger; third, th' marriage iv Prince Lobengula; fourth, th' +scarcity iv sarvint girls in th' sooburban towns; fifth, th' price iv +gas. [Cries iv 'Abase th' price iv gas!'] I thank th' aujience. I will +raysume where I left off. I was speakin' iv Gin'ral Guns. I met him on +th' sthreet. Th' moon was clear in th' sky. I says, "Guns," I says, +"lave us go down to Hogan's, an' I'll buy ye a tub iv obsceenthe." As +we sthrolled through th' bullyvard, I saw a man that looked like a +German dhrivin' a cab. I was overcome with terror. I ran madly home, +followed be Guns. It was a week befure I cud hold a glass iv +obsceenthe without spillin' th' liquor. Shortly afther this, or it +may've been tin years befure, or it may niver have occurred [the +coort, 'Spoken like a Fr-rinchman an' a sojer'], in th' middle iv July +a man tol' me that the divine Sara [wild an' continyous applause, +cries iv 'Sara foriver!'] was about to projooce th' immortal play iv +"Omlet" [cheers] be th' wretched Shakspere [hisses]. Cud annything be +clearer? I will detain th' coort not longer thin a day while I give me +opinyon on this marvellous performance.' +</p> + +<p> +"Cap Dhryfuss was settin' on th' window-sill, whistlin' 'Garry Owen,' +an' makin' faces at th' gallant corryspondint iv th' Daily Wrongs iv +Man. At this point he cried out laughingly: 'I will not conthradict +th' gin'ral. I will say he lies. I saw th' letter mesilf, an' that man +was Esterhazy.' [Sensation.] +</p> + +<p> +"'Let me ask this canal iv a Jew a question,' says th' corryspondint +iv th' evening Rothscheeld Roaster, a Fr-rinchman be th' name iv Sol +Levi. +</p> + +<p> +"'Ask it,' says Cap Dhryfuss. +</p> + +<p> +"'You are a despicable thraitor,' says th' gallant corryspondint. +[Sensation.] +</p> + +<p> +"'Th' pris'ner must answer,' says th' coort. 'It is now nearly six +o'clock iv th' mornin', an' time to get up an' dhress.' +</p> + +<p> +"'I refuse to make anny commint,' says Cap Dhryfuss, +</p> + +<p> +"The pris'ner's remark, uttered in tones iv despair, caused gr-reat +emotion in th' aujience. There were angry cries iv 'Lynch him!' an' +all eyes were tur-rned to th' Cap. +</p> + +<p> +"'Silence!' roared th' coort, bendin' a stern, inflexible look on th' +pris'ner. 'This is a coort iv justice. We ar-re disposed f'r to grant +ivry indulgence; but, if outsiders persist in intherferin' with these +proceedin's,' he says, 'we'll expel thim fr'm th' r-room. What does +th' prisoner think this is?' +</p> + +<p> +"'I thought it was a thrile,' says th' Cap; 'but, be th' number iv +vet'ran journalists here, it must be th' openin' iv a new hotel.' +</p> + +<p> +"'Not another wurrud,' says th' coort, 'or ye'll be fired out. No wan +shall insult th' honest, hard-wurrukin', sober, sensible journalists +iv Fr-rance. Not if this coort knows it. Ye bet ye, boys, th' coort is +with ye. Th' press is th' palajeen iv our liberties. Gin'ral Merceer +will raysume his tistimony. He was speakin' of th' game iv goluf.' +</p> + +<p> +"'Perhaps I'd betther sing it,' says th' gin'ral. +</p> + +<p> +"'I'll play an accompanymint f'r ye on th' flute,' says th' prisident +iv th' coort. 'While Gin'ral Merceer is proceedin' with his remarks, +call Colonel Pat th' Clam, who is sick an' can't come. Swear Gin'ral +Billot, Gin'ral Boisdeffer, Gin'ral Chammy, an' th' former mimbers iv +th' governmint.' +</p> + +<p> +"'I object to thim bein' sworn,' says Matther Blamange. +</p> + +<p> +"'They must be sworn,' says th' prisident. 'How th' divvle can they +perjure thimsilves if they ain't sworn? An' who ar-re ye, annyhow?' +</p> + +<p> +"'I'm th' counsel f'r th' pris'ner,' says Matther Blamange. 'Get out +ye'ersilf,' says Matther Blamange. 'I'm as good a man as ye ar-re. I +will ask that gintleman who jest wint out the dure, Does it pay to +keep up appearances?' [Groans.] +</p> + +<p> +"'Gin'ral Billot,' says th' prisident, 'what d'ye know about this +infernal case which is broodin' like a nightmare over our belovid +counthry, an' gettin' us up ivry mornin' befure milkin' time?' +</p> + +<p> +"'Nawthin' at all,' says Gin'ral Billot. +</p> + +<p> +"'Nayther do I,' says th' prisident. 'But I think th' Cap's guilty.' +</p> + +<p> +"'I'm glad to hear ye say that,' says th' gin'ral, 'If ye didn't, I'd +rayjooce ye to th' r-ranks to-morrah. I niver see th' man befure; an', +be hivins, I don't want to see him again. But I have a letter here +fr'm him, askin' me if he cud knock off wurruk at four o'clock to go +to his aunt's fun'ral.' +</p> + +<p> +"'Cap,' says th' prisident, 'what ye got to say to this? Did ye write +th' letter?' +</p> + +<p> +"'I did,' says th' Cap. +</p> + +<p> +"'Throw it out thin,' says th' prisident. 'We must be guided be th' +laws iv ividence. Th' witness will confine himself to forgeries. Have +ye e'er a forgery about ye'er clothes, mon gin'ral?' +</p> + +<p> +"'I wish to confront th' witness,' says Matther Blamange. +</p> + +<p> +"'Sit down,'" says th' prisident. +</p> + +<p> +"'D'ye raymimber meetin' me at dinner at Moosoo de Bozoo's. It was +years ago, durin' th' time iv Napolyeon, befure th' big fire? If I +raymimber right, we had peas. Wasn't it a lovely night? Oh dear, oh +dear, gintlemen iv th' press an' mon prisident, ye ought to have been +there. Well, I says to Gin'ral Billot, I says, "Gin'ral," I says, "how +ar-re ye, annyhow." An' the gin'ral replies, "F'r an ol' man, well." I +made up me mind thin that th' Cap was innocent, an' this was before he +was born. +</p> + +<p> +"'Me distinguished colleague in th' thrile iv this case, th' editor iv +wan iv th' Paris papers,' says th' prisident, 'has received a letter +fr'm th' military attachay or spy iv th' Impror iv Austhrich, sayin' +that he did not write th' letter referred to be Prisident Kruger, an', +if he did, it's a forgery. But what cud ye ixpict? I will throw both +letters into the secret dossier.' +</p> + +<p> +"'What's that?' says Matther Blamange. +</p> + +<p> +"'It's a collection iv pomes wrote to th' Paris papers be spies,' says +th' prisident. 'Call Colonel Peekhart, if th' others ar-re not +through. What, you again, Peekhart? Set down, sir.' +</p> + +<p> +"'Gintlemen iv Fr-rance,' says Colonel Peekhart. 'Unaccustomed as I am +to public speakin', I wish to addhress ye a few wurruds on th' +situation iv th' poor in China.' +</p> + +<p> +"'Assassin!' hisses th' coort. +</p> + +<p> +"'Canal!' says Matther Blamange. +</p> + +<p> +"At this moment th' door was burst open; an' an ex-Prisident iv +Fr-rance come boundin' in, an', r-rushin' up th' steps iv th' +thrybune, smacked Gin'ral Merceer in th' eye. Th' gr-reatest rayspict +was shown f'r th' former chief magistrate iv th' raypublic. No wan +shot at him. He was white with rage. 'Th' honor iv Fr-rance is at +stake,' he says. 'Our counthry lies prostrate in th' mud. I must +presarve th' dignity iv me high office; but, if Gin'ral Merceer will +step out into th' back yard, I'll beat his head off. I don't know +annything about this accursed case. It was all referred to me whin I +was Prisident. I am here to see that th' honor iv me high office is +not assailed. I protest I did not say what an anonymous corryspondint +in to-night's Sore says I said. I did me jooty. Whin I saw th' ar-rmy +disorganized an' Fr-rance beset be foreign foes, I raysigned. What was +I to do? Was I to stay in office, an' have me hat smashed in ivry time +I wint out to walk? I tell ye, gintlemen, that office is no signcure. +Until hats are made iv cast iron, no poor man can be Prisident iv +Fr-rance. But I was not speakin' iv th' Dhryfuss case.' +</p> + +<p> +"'Don't dare to mintion that matter in this coort,' says th' +prisident. 'I'm surprised a man iv ye'er intilligence 'd thry to dhrag +in exthranyous matther, whin th' honor iv th' ar-rmy is at stake. +Gin'ral Merceer, stand beside this witness. Now both speak at wanst! +Annybody else that has annything to say, lave him say it now, so it +won't be heard.' +</p> + +<p> +"'Mon colonel,' says a former minister iv th' Fr-rinch governmint, who +was th' polisman at th' dure, 'Judge Crazy th' Boorepare is here, +demandin' to be heard.' +</p> + +<p> +"'Gr-reat hivins!' says th' coort; an' they wint out through th' +windows. +</p> + +<p> +"That night they was gr-reat excitement in Rennes. Th' citizens +dhrivin home their cows cud har'ly make their way through th' excited +throngs on th' sthreet. Th' corryspondints iv th' English papers do +not dare to go to bed befure nine o'clock on account iv rumors iv a +gin'ral massacre. Madame Sara Bernhardt gave a magnificint performance +at th' theaytre, an' was wildly cheered. It was believed in London, +Budapesth, Posen, New York, Cookham, an' Upper Sandusky that Fr-rance +is about to perish. As I go to press, th' news has excited no commint +in Fr-rance." +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="III"></a> +<p class="title">III.</p> + + +<p> +"While th' thrillin' scenes I'm tellin' ye about is goin' on, +Hinnissy, worse is bein' enacted in beautiful Paris. In that lovely +city with its miles an' miles iv sparklin' resthrants,—la belly +Paree, as Hogan 'd say,—th' largest American city in th' wurruld, a +rivolution's begun. If ye don't believe it, read th' pa-apers. They've +arrested a pote. That was all r-right; f'r Fr-rance is sufferin' fr'm +too much pothry that 'll scan, as Hogan says, an' too much morality +that won't. They ought to be a rule f'r th' polis to pinch anny pote +caught poting between th' hours iv twelve an' twelve. But th' mistake +th' chief iv th' polis made was to r-run in a butcher at th' same +time. What th' butcher done I dinnaw; but annyhow they accused him iv +wantin' to poleaxe th' governmint; an' they thrun him into a cell. Now +th' butcher he had a frind be th' name iv Guerin,—an Irish name it +is, but this la-ad don't appear to be wan iv us,—Jools Guerin. He was +wanst in th' thripe business; but he is now r-runnin' a newspaper, +like most iv th' people iv Fr-rance. As a thripe butcher, his +circulation was larger an' among a betther class than his newspaper. +Bein' a la-ad with a fine sinse iv gratichood, an' havin' been wanst +fed an' clothed be a Jew man, he calls his pa-aper th' Anti-Jew; an' +its principle is, whin ye see a Jew, hand him a crack in th' jaw. 'Tis +a good principle, though I wanst knew a man be th' name iv Solomon +Felsenthal, that was known in th' ring as Mike Gallegher, th' +Tipp'rary Cyclone, as a thribute to th' feelin's iv th' pathrons iv +spoort; an', if Jools had thried to carry out his platform with Solly, +they'd be no siege in Fort Chabrool. Not anny. That Jew man 'd been +champeen iv th' wurruld if all iv him cud 've kept out iv close +quarthers with th' man again him. +</p> + +<p> +"I don't quarrel with Jools' feelin's, mind ye. 'Tis th' histhry iv +th' wurruld that th' Jews takes our watches fr'm us be tin per cint a +month, an' we take thim back be means iv a jimmy an' a piece iv lead +pipe. They're on'y two known methods iv finance,—bankin' an' +burglary. Th' Jews has th' first down fine, but all th' rest iv th' +wurruld is at home in th' second. So Jools's all r-right as far as he +goes. But he don't go far. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, whin Jools hear-rd that his frind th' butcher was sloughed up, +he wint fairly wild. He says to himsilf, he says, 'I'll go home,' he +says, 'an' defy th' governmint,' he says. 'I'll start a rivolution,' +he says. 'But,' he says, 'I must first notify th' polis,' he says, +'so's to prevint disordher,' he says. So he wint to th' chief iv +polis, who was an ol' frind iv his,—they was in th' same newspaper +office or thripe dairy or something,—an' th' chief kissed Jools, an' +asked him what he cud do f'r him. 'I wish,' said Jools, 'ye'd sind +down tin or a dozen good men in uniform an' a few detectives in +citizen's clothes,' he says. +</p> + +<p> +"I've asked some ladies an' gintlemen to a five o'clock rivolution at +my house,' he says; 'an' I'd like to be sure they'll be no disordher,' +he says. 'Well,' says th' chief, ''twill not be aisy,' he says. 'Ye +see th' prisident—I f'rget his name—has been asked to go to th' +r-races with some frinds,' he says; 'an' they will prob'bly thry to +kill him,' he says. 'We can't play anny fav'rites here,' he says. 'We +have to protect th' low as well as th' high,' he says. 'If annything +happens to this man, th' case is li'ble to be taken up be th' +ex-prisidents' association; an' they're num'rous enough to make +throuble f'r us,' he says. 'But,' he says, 'I'll do what I can f'r ye, +me ol' frind,' he says. 'Give us th' best ye have,' says Jools; 'an', +if ye've nawthin' to do afther ye close up, ye might dhrop in,' he +says, 'an' have a manifesto with us,' he says. 'Come just as ye +ar-re,' he says. ''Tis an informal rivolution,' he says. +</p> + +<p> +"An' away he wint. At sharp five o'clock th' rivolution begun. Th' +sthreets was dinsely packed with busy journalists, polis, sojers, an' +fash'nably dhressed ladies who come down fr'm th' Chang's All Easy in +motocycles. There was gr-reat excitement as Jools come to th' windy +an' pinned a copy iv his vallyable journal on th' sill, accompanied be +a thrusty liftnant wavin' a statement iv th' circulation iv th' +Anti-Jew. Jools at this moment was a tur-rble sight. He was dhressed +fr'm head to foot in Harveyized, bomb-proof steel, with an asbestos +rose in his buttonhole. Round his waist was sthrapped four hundherd +rounds iv ca'tridges an' eight days' provisions. He car-rid a Mauser +rifle on each shoulder, a machine gun undher wan ar-rm, a dinnymite +bomb undher another, an' he was smoking a cigareet. 'Ladies an' +gintlemen,' he says, 'I'm proud an' pleased to see ye prisint in such +lar-rge numbers at th' first rivolution iv th' prisint season,' he +says. 'With th' kind permission iv th' hated polis undher th' +di-rection iv me good frind an' fellow-journalist, Loot Franswoo +Coppere, an' th' ar-rmy, f'r whose honor ivry Fr-renchman 'll lay down +his life, th' siege will now begin. We will not,' he says, 'lave this +house till we have driven ivry cur-rsed Cosmypollitan or Jew,' he +says, 'fr'm this noble land iv th' br-rave an' home iv th' flea,' he +says. 'Veev Fr-rance!' he says. 'Veev Jools Guerin!' he says. +'Conspuez Rothscheeld!' he says. 'It's ye'er move, Loot,' he says to +th' polisman. +</p> + +<p> +"'I defer to th' ar-rmy whose honor is beyond reproach,' says th' +polisman, 'or recognition,' he says. 'Veev l'army!' he says. +</p> + +<p> +"'Thank ye,' says Gin'ral Bellow, salutin'. 'I will do me jooty. Man +can do no more,' he says. 'Jools,' he says, 'surrinder,' he says. 'Ye +cannot longer hol' out,' he says. 'Ye have provisions on'y f'r eight +years.' +</p> + +<p> +"'We will remain till th' last wan iv us perishes iv indigestion,' +says Jools. +</p> + +<p> +"'Thin I must take sthrong measures,' says th' gin'ral. 'At a given +signal we will storm th' house, bate down th' dures, smash in th' +roofs, cut off th' gas, poison th' wather supply, back up th' sewer, +break th' windys, an' r-raise th' rint.'" +</p> + +<p> +"'Do ye'er worst,' says Jools, proudly. +</p> + +<p> +"'Thin,' says th' gin'ral, imprissively, 'if these measures do not +suffice, I will suspind th' deliv'ry iv th' mails,' he says. +</p> + +<p> +"'Miscreant!' cries Jools, tur-rnin' white. 'An' this is called a +merciful governmint,' he says. 'Mong doo,' he says, 'what cr-rimes +will not Fr-rinchmen commit again' Fr-rinchmen!' he says. 'But,' he +says, 'ye little know us, if ye think we can be quelled be vi'lence,' +he says. 'I have a last card,' he says. 'I refuse to give th' signal,' +he says. +</p> + +<p> +"'Thin,' says th' gin'ral, tur-rnin' away with tears in his eyes, 'we +must adopt other measures.' +</p> + +<p> +"'Very well,' says Jools. 'But mark wan thing,—that, if ye attempt to +make me ridiculous, ye shall suffer.' +</p> + +<p> +"'I assure ye, mong editor,' says th' gin'ral, earnestly, 'that th' +governmint will not make ye anny more ridiculous than it makes +itsilf,' says he. +</p> + +<p> +"'Me honor is satisfied,' says Jools. 'Do ye'er worst,' he says. +</p> + +<p> +"At eight o'clock th' minister iv war ar-rived, an' took command. He +ordhered up twinty rig'mints iv cav'lry, tin batthries iv artillery, +an' two divisions iv fut sojers. It was his intintion to sind th' +cav'lry in over th' roofs, while th' army carried th' front stoop, +protected be fire fr'm th' heavy artillery, while th' Fr-rinch navy +shelled th' back dure. But this was seen to be impossible, because th' +man that owned th' wine-shop next dure, he said 'twud dhrive away +custom. All th' sthreets f'r miles ar-round was blockaded without +effect. Th' fire departmint was called to put Jools out, but wather +niver touched him. Th' sewer gang wint down an' blocked th' dhrains, +an' Jools soon had inspiration f'r a year's writin'. At last accounts +th' garrison was still holdin' out bravely again a witherin' fire iv +canned food, lobsters, omelets, an' hams. A brave gossoon in th' +Sivinth Artill'ry did partic'larly effective wurruk, hur-rlin' a plate +iv scrambled eggs acrost th' sthreet without spillin' a dhrop, an' is +now thrainin' a pie like mother used to make on th' first windy iv th' +sicond flure. It is reported that th' minister iv war at four o'clock +to-morrow mornin' will dhrop a bundle iv copies iv Jools' paper +through th' chimbley. Whin he opens th' windy, a pome be Paul +Deroulede 'll be read to him. This is again th' articles iv war, but +th' case is desp'rate. +</p> + +<p> +"But I was thinkin', Hinnissy, as I walked down th' Roo Chabrool, how +I'd like to see a Chicago polisman come sthrollin' along with his hat +on th' back iv his head. I don't love Chicago polismen. They seem to +think ivry man's head's as hard as their own. But I'd give forty-three +francs, or eight dollars an' sixty cints iv our money, if th' Fr-rinch +governmint 'd sind f'r Jawnny Shea, an' ask him to put down this here +rivolution. Th' nex' day they'd move th' office iv th' Anti-Seemite +Society to th' morgue." +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="IV"></a> +<p class="title">IV.</p> + + +<p> +"Well, Hinnissy, to get back to Rennes. Whin I left off, th' air was +full iv rumors iv an approachin' massacree. It was still full at +daybreak. Exthraordinney measures was adopted to provide again +disturbance. Th' gyard was doubled, an' both polismen had all they cud +do to keep th' crowd in ordher. Th' English an' American journalists +appeared at th' thrile wrapped up in th' flags iv their rayspictive +counthries. All th' Jews, excipt th' owners iv anti-Jew papers fr'm +Paris, wore heavy masks an' kep' their hands in their pockets. At four +o'clock th' prisident called th' aujience to disordher, an', havin' +disentangled Gin'ral Merceer an' a former prisident iv th' raypublic, +demanded if Moosoo Bertillon was in th' room. +</p> + +<p> +"'Here,' says that gr-reat janius, descindin' fr'm th' roof in a +parachute. Ye know Bertillon. Ye don't? Iv coorse ye do, Hinnissy. +He's th' la-ad that invinted th' system iv ditictive wurruk med aisy +that they use down in th' Cintral Polis Station. I mind wanst, afther +'twas inthrojooced, th' loot says to Andy Rohan,—he's a sergeant now, +be hivins!—he says, 'Go out,' he says, 'an' fetch in Mike McGool, th' +safe robber,' he says. 'Here's his description,' he says: 'eyelashes, +eight killomethres long; eyes, blue an' assymethrical; jaw, +bituminous; measuremint fr'm abaft th' left ear to base iv maxillory +glan's, four hectograms; a r-red scar runnin' fr'm th' noomo-gasthric +narve to th' sicond dorsal verteebree,' he says. 'Tis so. I have th' +description at home in th' cash dhrawer. Well, Andy come in about six +o'clock that night, lookin' as though he'd been thryin' to r-run a fut +race acrost a pile iv scrap ir'n; an' says he, 'Loot,' he says, 'I've +got him,' he says. "I didn't take th' measuremints,' he says, +'because, whin I pulled out th' tape line, he rowled me eighty +hectograms down th' sthreet,' he says. 'But 'tis Mike McGool,' he +says. 'I don't know annything about his noomo-gasthric narves,' he +says, 'but I reco'nized his face,' he says. 'I've r-run him in fifty +times,' he says. +</p> + +<p> +"Bertillon, besides bein' a profissor iv detictives, is a handwritin' +expert, which is wan iv th' principal industhries iv Fr-rance at th' +prisint time. He was accompanied be a throop iv assistants carryin' a +camera, a mutoscope, a magic lantern, a tib iv dye, a telescope, a +calceem light, a sextant, a compass, a thermometer, a barometer, a +thrunkful iv speeches, a duplicate to th' Agyptian obelisk, an +ink-eraser, an' a rayceipt f'r makin' goold out iv lead pipe. +</p> + +<p> +"'Well, sir,' says Bertillon, 'what d'ye want?' +</p> + +<p> +"'Nawthin',' says th' coort. 'Didn't ye ask to be called here?' +</p> + +<p> +"'No,' says Bertillon, 'an' ye didn't ask me, ayther. I come. Ye said +jus' now, Why do I believe th' Cap's guilty? I will show ye. In th' +spring iv ninety-five or th' fall iv sixty-eight, I disraymimber +which, Gin'ral Merceer'— +</p> + +<p> +"'Ye lie,' says Gin'ral Merceer, coldly. +</p> + +<p> +"'—called on me; an' says he, "Bertillon," he says, "ye'er fam'ly's +been a little cracked, an' I thought to ask ye to identify this +letther which I've jus' had written be a frind iv mine, Major +Estherhazy," he says. "I don't care to mintion who we suspect; but +he's a canal Jew in th' artillery, an' his name's Cap Dhryfuss," he +says. "It's not aisy," I says; "but, if th' honor iv th' ar-rmy's at +stake, I'll thry to fix th' raysponsibility," I says. An' I wint to +wurruk. I discovered in th' first place that all sentences begun with +capitals, an' they was a peryod at th' end iv each. This aroused me +suspicions. Clearly, this letther was written be a Jew. Here I paused, +f'r I had no samples iv th' Cap's writin' to compare with it. So I +wrote wan mesilf. They was much th' same. "Sure," says I, "th' Cap's +guilty," I says. But how did he do it? I thried a number iv +experiments. I first laid down over th' letther a piece of common +tissue paper. Th' writin' was perfectly plain through this. Thin I +threw it on a screen eighteen hands high. Thin I threw it off. Thin I +set it to music, an' played it on a flute. Thin I cooked it over a +slow fire, an' left it in a cool airy place to dhry. In an instant it +flashed over me how th' forgery was done. "Th' Cap first give it to +his little boy to write. Thin he had his wife copy it in imitation iv +Macchew Dhryfuss's handwritin'. Thin Macchew wrote it in imitation iv +Estherhazy. Thin th' Cap had it put on a typewriter, an' r-run through +a wringer. Thin he laid it transversely acrost a piece of wall paper; +an', whereiver th' key wurrud sponge-cake appeared, he was thereby +able f'r to make a sympathic lesion, acquirin' all th' characteristics +iv th' race, an' a dam sight more." +</p> + +<p> +"'I follow ye like a horse afther a hay wagon,' says th' prisident, +'hungrily, but unsatisfacthrly. Ye do not prove that th' throuble was +symotic, mong expert.' +</p> + +<p> +"'Parfictly,' says Moosoo Bertillon. 'I will have me assistants put up +a screen, an' on this I will projooce ividince'—"'Go away,' says th' +prisident. 'Call Colonel Prystalter. Mong colonel, ye thraitor, +describe th' conversation ye had with Colonel Schneider, th' honorable +but lyin' spy or confidential envoy iv th' vin'rable Impror iv +Austhrich, may th' divvle fly way with him! But mind ye, ye must +mintion no names.' +</p> + +<p> +"'I know no man more honest,' says th' witness. +</p> + +<p> +"'Thin your acquaintance is limited to ye'ersilf,' says Gin'ral +Merceer. +</p> + +<p> +"'Colonel Schneider,' says th' witness, 'th' Austhrich,—whom I will +designate, f'r fear iv internaytional entanglements, merely as Colonel +Schneider,—says to me, he says: "Th' letther pretindin' to be fr'm me +is a forgery." "How's that?" says I. "Didn't ye write an' sign it?" I +says. "I did," says he. "But some wan else sint it to th' pa-apers." +</p> + +<p> +"'Thin 'tis clearly a forgery,' says th' prisident. +</p> + +<p> +"'I wish to ask this witness wan question,' says Gin'ral Merceer. 'Was +it th' Robin shell or th' day befure?' +</p> + +<p> +"'My answer to that,' says th' witness, 'is decidedly, Who?' +</p> + +<p> +"'Thin,' says Gin'ral Merceer, 'all I can say is, this wretch's +tistimony is all a pack iv lies.' +</p> + +<p> +"'Hol' on there!' calls a voice from th' aujience. +</p> + +<p> +"'What d'ye want?' says th' prisident. +</p> + +<p> +"'I'm th' corryspondint iv th' Georgia Daily Lyncher, an' I can't +undherstand a wurrud ye say. I've lost me dictionary. Th' people iv +th' State iv Georgia mus' not be deprived iv their information about +th' scand'lous conduct iv this infamious coort.' +</p> + +<p> +"'Thrue,' says th' prisident. 'Fr-rance 'd soon perish if Georgia shud +thransfer its intherest fr'm Fr-rinch coorts to its own sacred timples +iv justice. Perhaps some confrere 'll lind th' distinguished gazabo a +copy iv his Ollendorff. Manewhile'— +</p> + +<p> +"'Mong prisident,' says a white-faced polisman, 'Judge Crazy the +Boore'— +</p> + +<p> +"'Gr-reat hivins!' cried th' prisident. 'Thin th' quarantine at Oporto +is a farce.' An' he plunged into th' seething mass iv handwritin' +experts an' ex-prisidents iv th' raypublic in th' coort-yard below." +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="V"></a> +<p class="title">V.</p> + + +<p> +"An' I was thinking Hinnissy" (Mr. Dooley said in conclusion), "as I +set in that there coort, surrounded be me fellow-journalists, spies, +perjurers, an' other statesmen, that I'd give four dollars if th' +prisident iv th' coort 'd call out, 'Moosoo Dooley, take th' stand.' +</p> + +<p> +"'Here,' says I; an' I'd thread me way with dignity through th' +Fr-rinch gin'rals an' ministers on th' flure, an' give me hand to th' +prisident to kiss. If he went anny further, I'd break his head. No +man 'll kiss me, Hinnissy, an' live. What's that ye say? He wudden't +want to? Well, niver mind. +</p> + +<p> +"'Here,' says I, 'mong colonel, what d'ye want with me?' +</p> + +<p> +"'What d'ye know about this case, mong bar-tinder.' +</p> + +<p> +"'Nawthin',' says I. 'But I know as much as annywan else. I know more +thin most iv thim la-ads down below; f'r I can't undherstand a wurrud +ye say, so I'm onable,' I says, 'f'r to make mistakes. I won't give +anny tistimony, because 'twud be out iv place in this sacred timple +devoted to th' practice iv orathry,' I says; 'but I can make as good a +speech as annywan, an' here goes.' +</p> + +<p> +"Gin'ral Merceer—'May I ask this polluted witness wan question?' +</p> + +<p> +"Th' Witness.—'Set down, ye infamious ol' polthroon!' says I. 'Set +down an' pondher ye'er sins,' I says. 'If ye had ye'er dues, ye'd be +cooprin' a bar'l in th' pinitinchry. If ye're afraid iv th' Impror +Willum, be hivins, ye want to be afraid iv th' Impror Dooley; f'r he's +Dutch, an' I ain't. I'll raysume me speech. Lady an' Gintlemen, +prisoner at th' bar, freeman that ought to be there, lawyers, +gin'rals, ex-prisidents, former mimbers iv th' cabinet, an' you, me +gin'rous confreres iv th' wurruld's press, I come fr'm a land where +injustice is unknown, where ivry man is akel befure th' law, but some +are betther thin others behind it, where th' accused always has a fair +thrile ayether,' I says, 'in th' criminal coort or at th' coroner's +inquest,' I says. 'I have just been in another counthry where such +conduct as we've witnessed here wud be unknown at a second thrile,' I +says, 'because they have no second thriles,' I says. 'We Anglo-Saxons +ar-re th' salt iv th' earth, an' don't ye f'rget it, boys. All our +affairs ar-re in ordher. We convict no innocent men an' very few +guilty wans, perjury is unknown amongst us, we have no military +scandals, an' our private life is beyond rebuke. So we have th' time +an' th' inclination to study th' vile offences iv our neighbors, an' +give thim advice free iv cost. An' that is why I'm here to-day in this +degraded counthry to tell ye what's th' matther with ye an' what ye +ought to do. +</p> + +<p> +"'An' this is me opinyon: I don't think Cap. Dhryfuss wr-rote th' +borderoo. I think he was th' on'y man in Fr-rance that didn't. But I +ain't got as high an opinyon iv th' Cap as I had. I ain't no purity +brigade; but, th' older I get, th' more I think wan wife's enough f'r +anny man, an' too manny f'r some. They was a time, Cap, whin 'twas +seryously thought iv takin' ye fr'm th' Divvle's Own Island an' makin' +ye prisident iv th' Women's Rescue League. But I'm afraid, Cap, ye're +disqualified f'r that position be what we've heard fr'm ye'er own lips +durin th' thrile. Ye lost a good job. Thin there ar-re some other +things about ye I don't undherstand. I can't make out what ye meant be +pretindin' to go to It'ly an' doublin' back into Germany; an' I wish +f'r me own peace iv mind all ye'er explanations 'd mate. But, sure, if +ivry man that was too free with his affections was to be sint to th' +Divvle's Own Island, they'd have to build an intinsion to that +far-famed winther resort. An' if suspicyous actions was proof iv +guilt, mong colonel, ye'd have th' mimbers iv th' gin'ral staff +sthrung up in as manny cages as ye see at th' Zoo-illogical Gardens +[laughter an' cries iv 'Veev Dooley!'] +</p> + +<p> +"'Th' throuble is, mong colonel, lady an' gintlemen, that it ain't +been Cap Dhryfuss that's been on thrile, but th' honor iv th' nation +an' th' honor iv th' ar-rmy. If 'twas th' Cap that was charged, ye'd +say to him, "Cap, we haven't anny proof again ye; but we don't like +ye, an' ye'll have to move on." An' that 'd be th' end iv th' row. The +Cap 'd go over to England an' go into th' South African minin' +business, an' become what Hogan calls "A Casey's bellows." But, +because some la-ad on th' gin'ral staff got caught lyin' in th' start +an' had to lie some more to make th' first wan stick, an' th' other +gin'rals had to jine him f'r fear he might compromise thim if he wint +on telling his fairy stories, an' they was la-ads r-runnin' newspapers +in Paris that needed to make a little money out iv th' popylation, ye +said, "Th' honor iv th' Fr-rinch people an' th' honor iv th' Fr-rinch +ar-rmy is on thrile"; an' ye've put thim in th' dock instead iv th' +Cap. Th' honor iv Fr-rance is all right, me boy, an' will be so long +as th' Fr-rinch newspapers is not read out iv Paree,' I says. 'An', if +th' honor iv th' Fr-rinch ar-rmy can stand thim pants that ye hew out +iv red flannel f'r thim, a little threachery won't injure it at all,' +I says. 'Yes,' says I, 'th' honor iv Fr-rance an' th' honor iv th' +ar-rmy 'll come out all r-right,' I says; 'but it wudden't do anny harm +f'r to sind th' honor iv th' Fr-rinch gin'rals to th' laundhry,' I +says. 'I think ye'd have to sind Gin'ral Merceer's to th' dyer's,' I +says. 'Ye niver can take out th' spots, an' it might as well all be +th' same color,' I says. 'Mong colonel,' I says imprissively, 'so long +as ivry man looks out f'r his own honor, th' honor iv th' counthry 'll +look out f'r itsilf,' I says. 'No wan iver heard iv a nation stealin' +a lead pipe or committin' perjury,' I says. ''Tis th' men that makes +up th' nation that goes in f'r these diversions,' I says. 'I'd hate to +insure again burglars th' naytional honor that was guarded be that ol' +gazabo,' says I, indicatin' Merceer with th' toe iv me boot. +</p> + +<p> +"'That's wan point. They's another, mong colonel. Ye're all afraid. +That's th' truth iv th' matther. Ye're like a lot iv ol' women that +thinks ivry time th' shutter creaks burglars is goin' to break into +th' house. Ye're afraid iv Rothscheeld, an' th' Impror iv Germany, an' +th' Dook d'Orleans, Vik Bonaparte, an' Joe Chamberlain, an' Bill +McKinley. Be hivins, I believe ye're even afraid iv Gin'ral Otis! +Ye're afraid iv th' newspapers, ye're afraid iv Jools Guerin, ye're +afraid iv a pote, even whin he is not ar-rmed with his pothry, an' +ye're afraid iv each other. Brace up! be men! If I was a Fr-rinchman, +I'd be afraid iv no man but th' cab-dhrivers; an' I wudden't be afraid +iv thim long, f'r I'd be a cab-dhriver mesilf. +</p> + +<p> +"'Wan thing more, an' thin me tistimony's over. Ye want me advice. Ye +didn't ask f'r it. If I was prisident iv this coort-martial, I'd say +to Cap Dhryfuss: "Cap, get out. Ye may not be a thraitor, but ye're +worse. Ye're become a bore." An' I'd give him money enough to lave th' +counthry. Thin I'd sind th' gin'ral staff off to some quiet counthry +village where they'd be free fr'm rumors iv war, an' have nawthin' +else to do but set around in rockin'-chairs an' play with th' cat. +Thin I'd cut th' cable to England; an' thin I'd gather all the +journalists iv Paris together, an' I'd say, "Gintlemen," I'd say, "th' +press is th' palajeem iv our liberties," I'd say; "but our liberties +no longer requires a palajeem," I'd say. "This wan, whativer it means, +is frayed at th' risbands, an' th' buttonholes is broken, annyhow," +I'd say. "I've bought all iv ye tickets to Johannisberg," I'd say, +"an' ye'll be shipped there tonight," I'd say. "Ye'er confreres iv +that gr-reat city is worn out with their exertions, an' ye'll find +plenty iv wurruk to do. In fact, those iv ye that're anti-Seemites +'ll niver lack imployment," I'd say. "Hinceforth Fr-rance will be +free—fr'm th' likes iv ye," I'd say. An' th' nex' mornin' Paris 'd +awake ca'm an' peaceful, with no newspapers, an' there 'd be more room +in our own papers f'r th' base-ball news,' says I. +</p> + +<p> +"'But, mong liquor dealer, what ye propose 'd depopylate France,' says +th' prisident. +</p> + +<p> +"'If that's th' case,' says I, 'Fr-rance ought to be depopylated,' I +says. 'I've been thinkin' that's th' on'y way it can be made fit to +live in f'r a man fr'm Chicago, where th' jambons come fr'm,' says I, +lavin' th' stand." +</p> + +<hr class="short"> +<p> +"Arrah, what ar-re ye talkin' about?" demanded Mr. Hennessy. "Ye niver +got a peek in th' dure." +</p> + +<p> +"What have you been doin'?" Mr. Dooley asked, disregarding the +interruption. +</p> + +<p> +"I wint out to see th' rowlin' mills," said Mr. Hennessy. "They have a +very good plant; an' a man be th' name iv Mechell Onnessy or Mike +Hennessy, a cousin iv mine that come over th' Fenian time with +Stevens, is boss iv a gang. He speaks Fr-rinch like a boardin'-school. +I talked with wan iv th' la-ads through him. +</p> + +<p> +"Did ye ask him about th' Dhryfuss case?" asked Mr. Dooley, eagerly. +</p> + +<p> +"I did." +</p> + +<p> +"What did he say?" +</p> + +<p> +"He said he niver heerd of it." +</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Mr. Dooley: In the Hearts of His +Countrymen, by Finley Peter Dunne + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MR. DOOLEY *** + +***** This file should be named 13784-h.htm or 13784-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/3/7/8/13784/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland and the PG Online Distributed +Proofreading Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + +</pre> + +</body> +</html> diff --git a/old/13784-h/images/001.jpg b/old/13784-h/images/001.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ff353e2 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/13784-h/images/001.jpg diff --git a/old/13784.txt b/old/13784.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9dda3e8 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/13784.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5414 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Mr. Dooley: In the Hearts of His Countrymen +by Finley Peter Dunne + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Mr. Dooley: In the Hearts of His Countrymen + +Author: Finley Peter Dunne + +Release Date: October 18, 2004 [EBook #13784] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MR. DOOLEY *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland and the PG Online Distributed +Proofreading Team. + + + + + +MR. DOOLEY + +IN THE HEARTS OF HIS COUNTRYMEN + + +By + +FINLEY PETER DUNNE + + +[Illustration: Decoration: SCIRE QVOD SCIENDVM] + + +Boston +Small, Maynard & Company + +1899 + + + +_Copyright, 1898, 1899, by the Chicago Journal +Copyright, 1899, by Robert Howard Russell +Copyright, 1899, by Small, Maynard & Company_ + +_Entered at Stationers' Hall_ + +_First Edition (10,000 copies) October, 1899 +Second Edition (10,000 copies) October, 1899 +Third Edition (10,000 copies) October, 1899 +Before Publication_ + +_Press of George H. Ellis, Boston, U.S.A._ + + + +TO +SIR GEORGE NEWNES, BART. +MESSRS. GEORGE ROUTLEDGE & SONS LIMITED +AND OTHER PUBLISHERS WHO, UNINVITED, PRESENTED +MR. DOOLEY TO A PART OF THE BRITISH PUBLIC + + + + +PREFACE. + + +The author may excuse the presentation of these sketches to the +public on the ground that, if he did not publish some of them, +somebody would, and, if he did not publish the others, nobody would. +He has taken the liberty to dedicate the book to certain enterprising +gentlemen in London who have displayed their devotion to a sentiment +now widely prevailing in the Music Halls by republishing an American +book without solicitation on the author's part. At the same time he +begs to reserve _in petto_ a second dedication to the people of +Archey Road, whose secluded gayety he has attempted to discover to +the world. + +With the sketches that come properly under the title "Mr. Dooley: In +the Hearts of His Countrymen" are printed a number that do not. It +has seemed impossible to a man who is not a Frenchman, and who is, +therefore, tremendously excited over the case, to avoid discussion +of the Jabberwocky of the Rennes court-martial as it is reported in +America and England. Mr. Dooley cannot lag behind his fellow +Anglo-Saxons in this matter. It is sincerely to be hoped that his +small contribution to the literature of the subject will at last +open the eyes of France to the necessity of conducting her trials, +parliamentary sessions, revolutions, and other debates in a language +more generally understood in New York and London. + +F.P.D. + +DUBLIN, August 30, 1899. + + + + +CONTENTS. + PAGE + +EXPANSION 3 + +A HERO WHO WORKED OVERTIME 8 + +RUDYARD KIPLING 13 + +LORD CHARLES BERESFORD 18 + +HANGING ALDERMEN 23 + +THE GRIP 30 + +LEXOW 35 + +THEIR EXCELLENCIES, THE POLICE 41 + +SHAUGHNESSY 45 + +TIMES PAST 50 + +THE SKIRTS OF CHANCE 56 + +WHEN THE TRUST IS AT WORK 61 + +A BRAND FROM THE BURNING 66 + +A WINTER NIGHT 72 + +THE BLUE AND THE GRAY 76 + +THE TRAGEDY OF THE AGITATOR 82 + +BOYNE WATER AND BAD BLOOD 85 + +THE FREEDOM PICNIC 92 + +THE IDLE APPRENTICE 96 + +THE O'BRIENS FOREVER 101 + +A CANDIDATE'S PILLORY 107 + +THE DAY AFTER THE VICTORY 113 + +A VISIT TO JEKYL ISLAND 119 + +SLAVIN CONTRA WAGNER 125 + +GRAND OPERA 130 + +THE CHURCH FAIR 135 + +THE WANDERERS 139 + +MAKING A CABINET 143 + +OLD AGE 149 + +THE DIVIDED SKIRT 154 + +A BIT OF HISTORY 158 + +THE RULING CLASS 165 + +THE OPTIMIST 170 + +PROSPERITY 175 + +THE GREAT HOT SPELL 180 + +KEEPING LENT 185 + +THE QUICK AND THE DEAD 190 + +THE SOFT SPOT 196 + +THE IRISHMAN ABROAD 202 + +THE SERENADE 206 + +THE HAY FLEET 210 + +THE PERFORMANCES OF LIEUTENANT HOBSON 216 + +THE DECLINE OF NATIONAL FEELING 222 + +"CYRANO DE BERGERAC" 228 + +THE UNION OF TWO GREAT FORTUNES 234 + +THE DREYFUS CASE: + + I. 240 + + II. 249 + + III. 259 + + IV. 268 + + V. 276 + + + + +Mr. DOOLEY: + +In the Hearts of His Countrymen + + + + +EXPANSION. + + +"Whin we plant what Hogan calls th' starry banner iv Freedom in th' +Ph'lippeens," said Mr. Dooley, "an' give th' sacred blessin' iv +liberty to the poor, down-trodden people iv thim unfortunate +isles,--dam thim!--we'll larn thim a lesson." + +"Sure," said Mr. Hennessy, sadly, "we have a thing or two to larn +oursilves." + +"But it isn't f'r thim to larn us," said Mr. Dooley. "'Tis not f'r +thim wretched an' degraded crathers, without a mind or a shirt iv +their own, f'r to give lessons in politeness an' liberty to a nation +that mannyfacthers more dhressed beef than anny other imperyal nation +in th' wurruld. We say to thim: 'Naygurs,' we say, 'poor, dissolute, +uncovered wretches,' says we, 'whin th' crool hand iv Spain forged +man'cles f'r ye'er limbs, as Hogan says, who was it crossed th' say +an' sthruck off th' comealongs? We did,--by dad, we did. An' now, ye +mis'rable, childish-minded apes, we propose f'r to larn ye th' uses iv +liberty. In ivry city in this unfair land we will erect school-houses +an' packin' houses an' houses iv correction; an' we'll larn ye our +language, because 'tis aisier to larn ye ours than to larn oursilves +yours. An' we'll give ye clothes, if ye pay f'r thim; an', if ye +don't, ye can go without. An', whin ye're hungry, ye can go to th' +morgue--we mane th' resth'rant--an' ate a good square meal iv ar-rmy +beef. An' we'll sind th' gr-reat Gin'ral Eagan over f'r to larn ye +etiquette, an' Andhrew Carnegie to larn ye pathriteism with blow-holes +into it, an' Gin'ral Alger to larn ye to hould onto a job; an', whin +ye've become edycated an' have all th' blessin's iv civilization that +we don't want, that 'll count ye one. We can't give ye anny votes, +because we haven't more thin enough to go round now; but we'll threat +ye th' way a father shud threat his childher if we have to break ivry +bone in ye'er bodies. So come to our ar-rms,' says we. + +"But, glory be, 'tis more like a rasslin' match than a father's +embrace. Up gets this little monkey iv an' Aggynaldoo, an' says he, +'Not for us,' he says. 'We thank ye kindly; but we believe,' he says, +'in pathronizin' home industhries,' he says. 'An,' he says, 'I have on +hand,' he says, 'an' f'r sale,' he says, 'a very superyor brand iv +home-made liberty, like ye'er mother used to make,' he says. ''Tis a +long way fr'm ye'er plant to here,' he says, 'an' be th' time a cargo +iv liberty,' he says, 'got out here an' was handled be th' middlemen,' +he says, 'it might spoil,' he says. 'We don't want anny col' storage +or embalmed liberty,' he says. 'What we want an' what th' ol' reliable +house iv Aggynaldoo,' he says, 'supplies to th' thrade,' he says, 'is +fr-esh liberty r-right off th' far-rm,' he says. 'I can't do annything +with ye'er proposition,' he says. 'I can't give up,' he says, 'th' +rights f'r which f'r five years I've fought an' bled ivry wan I cud +reach,' he says. 'Onless,' he says, 'ye'd feel like buyin' out th' +whole business,' he says. 'I'm a pathrite,' he says; 'but I'm no +bigot,' he says. + +"An' there it stands, Hinnissy, with th' indulgent parent kneelin' on +th' stomach iv his adopted child, while a dillygation fr'm Boston +bastes him with an umbrella. There it stands, an' how will it come out +I dinnaw. I'm not much iv an expansionist mesilf. F'r th' las' tin +years I've been thryin' to decide whether 'twud be good policy an' +thrue to me thraditions to make this here bar two or three feet +longer, an' manny's th' night I've laid awake tryin' to puzzle it out. +But I don't know what to do with th' Ph'lippeens anny more thin I did +las' summer, befure I heerd tell iv thim. We can't give thim to anny +wan without makin' th' wan that gets thim feel th' way Doherty felt to +Clancy whin Clancy med a frindly call an' give Doherty's childher th' +measles. We can't sell thim, we can't ate thim, an' we can't throw +thim into th' alley whin no wan is lookin'. An' 'twud be a disgrace +f'r to lave befure we've pounded these frindless an' ongrateful people +into insinsibility. So I suppose, Hinnissy, we'll have to stay an' do +th' best we can, an' lave Andhrew Carnegie secede fr'm th' Union. +They'se wan consolation; an' that is, if th' American people can +govern thimsilves, they can govern annything that walks." + +"An' what 'd ye do with Aggy--what-d'ye-call-him?" asked Mr. Hennessy. + +"Well," Mr. Dooley replied, with brightening eyes, "I know what they'd +do with him in this ward. They'd give that pathrite what he asks, an' +thin they'd throw him down an' take it away fr'm him." + + + + +A HERO WHO WORKED OVERTIME. + + +"Well, sir," said Mr. Dooley, "it looks now as if they was nawthin' +left f'r me young frind Aggynaldoo to do but time. Like as not a year +fr'm now he'll be in jail, like Napoleon, th' impror iv th' Fr-rinch, +was in his day, an' Mike, th' Burglar, an' other pathrites. That's +what comes iv bein' a pathrite too long. 'Tis a good job, whin they'se +nawthin' else to do; but 'tis not th' thing to wurruk overtime at. +'Tis a sort iv out-iv-dure spoort that ye shud engage in durin' th' +summer vacation; but, whin a man carries it on durin' business hours, +people begin to get down on him, an' afther a while they're ready to +hang him to get him out iv th' way. As Hogan says, 'Th' las' thing +that happens to a pathrite he's a scoundhrel.' + +"Las' summer there wasn't a warmer pathrite annywhere in our imperyal +dominions thin this same Aggynaldoo. I was with him mesilf. Says I: +'They'se a good coon,' I says. 'He'll help us f'r to make th' +Ph'lippeens indepindint on us f'r support,' I says; 'an', whin th' +blessin's iv civilization has been extinded to his beloved counthry, +an',' I says, 'they put up intarnal rivinue offices an' post-offices,' +I says, 'we'll give him a good job as a letter-carrier,' I says, +'where he won't have annything to do,' I says, 'but walk,' I says. + +"An' so th' consul at Ding Dong, th' man that r-runs that end iv th' +war, he says to Aggynaldoo: 'Go,' he says, 'where glory waits ye,' he +says. 'Go an' sthrike a blow,' he says, 'f'r ye'er counthry,' he says. +'Go,' he says. 'I'll stay, but you go,' he says. 'They's nawthin' in +stayin', an' ye might get hold iv a tyrannical watch or a pocket book +down beyant,' he says. An' off wint th' brave pathrite to do his +jooty. He done it, too. Whin Cousin George was pastin' th' former +hated Castiles, who was it stood on th' shore shootin' his +bow-an-arrow into th' sky but Aggynaldoo? Whin me frind Gin'ral +Merritt was ladin' a gallant charge again blank catredges, who was it +ranged his noble ar-rmy iv pathrites behind him f'r to see that no wan +attackted him fr'm th' sea but Aggynaldoo? He was a good man thin,--a +good noisy man. + +"Th' throuble was he didn't know whin to knock off. He didn't hear th' +wurruk bell callin' him to come in fr'm playin' ball an' get down to +business. Says me Cousin George: "Aggynaldoo, me buck,' he says, 'th' +war is over,' he says, 'an' we've settled down to th' ol' game,' he +says. 'They're no more heroes. All iv thim has gone to wurruk f'r th' +magazines. They're no more pathrites,' he says. 'They've got jobs as +gov'nors or ar-re lookin' f'r thim or annything else,' he says. 'All +th' prom'nint saviors iv their counthry,' he says, 'but mesilf,' he +says, 'is busy preparin' their definse,' he says. 'I have no definse,' +he says; 'but I'm where they can't reach me,' he says. 'Th' spoort is +all out iv th' job; an', if ye don't come in an' jine th' tilin masses +iv wage-wurrukers,' he says, 'ye won't even have th' credit iv bein' +licked in a gloryous victhry,' he says. 'So to th' woodpile with ye!' +he says; 'f'r ye can't go on cillybratin' th' Foorth iv July without +bein' took up f'r disordherly conduct,' he says. + +"An' Aggynaldoo doesn't undherstand it. An' he gathers his Archery +Club ar-round him, an' says he: 'Fellow-pathrites,' he says, 'we've +been betrayed,' he says. 'We've been sold out without,' he says, +'gettin' th' usual commission,' he says. 'We're still heroes,' he +says; 'an' our pitchers is in th' pa-apers,' he says. 'Go in,' he +says, 'an' sthrike a blow at th' gay deceivers,' he says. 'I'll sell +ye'er lives dearly,' he says. An' th' Archery Club wint in. Th' +pathrites wint up again a band iv Kansas sojers, that was wanst heroes +befure they larned th' hay-foot-sthraw-foot, an' is now arnin' th' +wages iv a good harvest hand all th' year ar-round, an' 'd rather +fight than ate th' ar-rmy beef, an' ye know what happened. Some iv th' +poor divvles iv heroes is liberated fr'm th' cares iv life; an' th' +r-rest iv thim is up in threes, an' wishin' they was home, smokin' a +good see-gar with mother. + +"An' all this because Aggynaldoo didn't hear th' whistle blow. He +thought th' boom was still on in th' hero business. If he'd come in, +ye'd be hearin' that James Haitch Aggynaldoo 'd been appointed +foorth-class postmasther at Hootchey-Kootchey; but now th' nex' ye +know iv him 'll be on th' blotther at th' polis station: 'James Haitch +Aggynaldoo, alias Pompydoor Jim, charged with carryin' concealed +weepins an' ray-sistin' an officer.' Pathriteism always dies when ye +establish a polis foorce." + +"Well," said Mr. Hennessy, "I'm kind iv sorry f'r th' la-ads with th' +bows an' arrows. Maybe they think they're pathrites." + +"Divvle th' bit iv difference it makes what they think, so long as we +don't think so," said Mr. Dooley. "It's what Father Kelly calls a case +iv mayhem et chew 'em. That's Latin, Hinnissy; an' it manes what's wan +man's food is another man's pizen." + + + + +RUDYARD KIPLING. + + +"I think," said Mr. Dooley, "th' finest pothry in th' wurruld is wrote +be that frind iv young Hogan's, a man be th' name iv Roodyard Kipling. +I see his pomes in th' pa-aper, Hinnissy; an' they're all right. +They're all right, thim pomes. They was wan about scraggin' Danny +Deever that done me a wurruld iv good. They was a la-ad I wanst knew +be th' name iv Deever, an' like as not he was th' same man. He owed me +money. Thin there was wan that I see mintioned in th' war news wanst +in a while,--th' less we f'rget, th' more we raymimber. That was a +hot pome an' a good wan. What I like about Kipling is that his pomes +is right off th' bat, like me con-versations with you, me boy. He's a +minyit-man, a r-ready pote that sleeps like th' dhriver iv thruck 9, +with his poetic pants in his boots beside his bed, an' him r-ready to +jump out an' slide down th' pole th' minyit th' alarm sounds. + +"He's not such a pote as Tim Scanlan, that hasn't done annything since +th' siege iv Lim'rick; an' that was two hundherd year befure he was +bor-rn. He's prisident iv th' Pome Supply Company,--fr-resh pothry +delivered ivry day at ye'er dure. Is there an accident in a grain +illyvator? Ye pick up ye'er mornin' pa-aper, an' they'se a pome about +it be Roodyard Kipling. Do ye hear iv a manhole cover bein' blown up? +Roodyard is there with his r-ready pen. ''Tis written iv Cashum-Cadi +an' th' book iv th' gr-reat Gazelle that a manhole cover in anger is +tin degrees worse thin hell.' He writes in all dialects an' anny +language, plain an' fancy pothry, pothry f'r young an' old, pothry be +weight or linyar measuremint, pothry f'r small parties iv eight or tin +a specialty. What's the raysult, Hinnissy? Most potes I despise. But +Roodyard Kipling's pothry is aisy. Ye can skip through it while ye're +atin' breakfuss an' get a c'rrect idee iv th' current news iv th' +day,--who won th' futball game, how Sharkey is thrainin' f'r th' +fight, an' how manny votes th' pro-hybitionist got f'r gov'nor iv th' +State iv Texas. No col' storage pothry f'r Kipling. Ivrything fr-resh +an' up to date. All lays laid this mornin'. + +"Hogan was in to-day readin' Kipling's Fridah afthernoon pome, an' +'tis a good pome. He calls it 'Th' Thruce iv th' Bear.' This is th' +way it happened: Roodyard Kipling had just finished his mornin' batch +iv pothry f'r th' home-thrade, an' had et his dinner, an' was thinkin' +iv r-runnin' out in th' counthry f'r a breath iv fr-resh air, whin in +come a tillygram sayin' that th' Czar iv Rooshia had sint out a +circular letther sayin' ivrybody in th' wurruld ought to get together +an' stop makin' war an' live a quite an' dull life. Now Kipling don't +like the czar. Him an' th' czar fell out about something, an' they +don't speak. So says Roodyard Kipling to himsilf, he says: 'I'll take +a crack at that fellow,' he says. 'I'll do him up,' he says. An' so he +writes a pome to show that th' czar's letter's not on th' square. +Kipling's like me, Hinnissy. When I want to say annything lib-lous, I +stick it on to me Uncle Mike. So be Roodyard Kipling. He doesn't come +r-right out, an' say, 'Nick, ye're a liar!' but he tells about what +th' czar done to a man he knowed be th' name iv Muttons. Muttons, it +seems, Hinnissy, was wanst a hunter; an' he wint out to take a shot at +th' czar, who was dhressed up as a bear. Well, Muttons r-run him down, +an' was about to plug him, whin th' czar says, 'Hol' on,' he +says,--'hol' on there,' he says. 'Don't shoot,' he says. 'Let's talk +this over,' he says. An' Muttons, bein' a foolish man, waited till th' +czar come near him; an' thin th' czar feinted with his left, an' put +in a right hook an' pulled off Muttons's face. I tell ye 'tis so. He +jus' hauled it off th' way ye'd haul off a porous plasther,--raked off +th' whole iv Muttons's fr-ront ilivation. 'I like ye'er face,' he +says, an' took it. An' all this time, an' 'twas fifty year ago, +Muttons hasn't had a face to shave. Ne'er a one. So he goes ar-round +exhibitin' th' recent site, an' warnin' people that, whin they ar-re +shootin' bears, they must see that their gun is kept loaded an' their +face is nailed on securely. If ye iver see a bear that looks like a +man, shoot him on th' spot, or, betther still, r-run up an alley. Ye +must niver lose that face, Hinnissy. + +"I showed th' pome to Father Kelly," continued Mr. Dooley. + +"What did he say?" asked Mr. Hennessy. + +"He said," Mr. Dooley replied, "that I cud write as good a wan mesilf; +an' he took th' stub iv a pencil, an' wrote this. Lemme see--Ah! here +it is:-- + + 'Whin he shows as seekin' frindship with paws that're thrust in thine, + That is th' time iv pearl, that is th' thruce iv th' line. + + 'Collarless, coatless, hatless, askin' a dhrink at th' bar, + Me Uncle Mike, the Fenyan, he tells it near and far, + + 'Over an' over th' story: 'Beware iv th' gran' flimflam, + There is no thruce with Gazabo, th' line that looks like a lamb.' + +"That's a good pome, too," said Mr. Dooley; "an' I'm goin' to sind it +to th' nex' meetin' iv th' Anglo-Saxon 'liance." + + + + +LORD CHARLES BERESFORD. + + +"I see be th' pa-apers," said Mr. Dooley, "that Lord Char-les +Beresford is in our mist, as Hogan says." + +"An' who th' divvle's he?" asked Mr. Hennessy. + +"He's a Watherford man," said Mr. Dooley. "I knowed his father +well,--a markess be thrade, an' a fine man. Char-les wint to sea +early; but he's now in th' plastherin' business,--cemintin' th' +'liance iv th' United States an' England. I'll thank ye to laugh at +me joke, Mr. Hinnissy, an' not be standin' there lookin' like a +Chinny-man in a sthreet-car." + +"I don't know what ye mean," said Mr. Hennessy, softly. + +"Lord Charles Beresford is a sort iv advance agent iv th' White Man's +Burden Thrajeedy Company,--two little Evas, four hundherd millyon +Topsies, six hundherd millyon Uncle Toms. He's billin' the' counthry +f'r th' threeyumphial tour iv th' Monsther Aggregation. Nawthin' can +stop it. Blood is thicker than wather; an' together, ar-rm in ar-rm, +we'll spread th' light iv civilization fr'm wan end iv th' wurruld to +th' other, no matther what you an' Schwartzmeister say, Hinnissy. + +"Be hivins, I like th' way me kinsmen acrost th' sea, as th' pa-apers +say, threat us. 'Ye whelps,' says Lord Char-les Beresford an' Roodyard +Kipling an' Tiddy Rosenfelt an' th' other Anglo-Saxons. 'Foolish an' +frivolous people, cheap but thrue-hearted an' insincere cousins,' they +says. ''Tis little ye know about annything. Ye ar-re a disgrace to +humanity. Ye love th' dollar betther thin ye love annything but two +dollars. Ye ar-re savage, but inthrestin'. Ye misname our titles. Ye +use th' crool Krag-Jorgensen instead iv th' ca'm an' penethratin' +Lee-Metford. Ye kiss ye'er heroes, an' give thim wurruk to do. We +smash in their hats, an' illivate thim to th' peerage. Ye have +desthroyed our language. Ye ar-re rapidly convartin' our ancesthral +palaces into dwellin'-houses. Ye'er morals are loose, ye'er dhrinks +ar-re enervatin' but pleasant, an' ye talk through ye'er noses. Ye +ar-re mussy at th' table, an' ye have no religion. But ye ar-re whelps +iv th' ol' line. Those iv ye that ar-re not our brothers-in-law we +welcome as brothers. Ye annoy us so much ye must be mimbers iv our own +fam'ly. Th' same people that is washed occasionally be th' Mississippi +as it rowls majistic along th' imperyal States iv Oheeho an' Duluth, +wathrin' th' fertyle plains iv Wyoming an' Mattsachusetts, is to be +found airnin' a livin' on th' short but far more dirtier Thames. We +have th' same lithrachoor. Ye r-read our Shakspere so we can't +undherstand it; an' we r-read ye'er aspirin' authors, Poe an' Lowell +an' Ol' Sleuth th' Detective. We ar-re not onfamilyar with ye'er +inthrestin' histhry. We ar-re as pr-roud as ye are iv th' achievements +iv Gin'ral Shafter an' Gin'ral Coxey. Ye'er ambass'dures have always +been kindly received; an', whether they taught us how to dhraw to a +busted flush or wept on our collars or recited original pothry to us, +we had a brotherly feelin' for thim that med us say, "Poor fellows, +they're doin' th' best they can." 'So,' says they, 'come to our +ar-ams, an' together we'll go out an' conquer th' wurruld.' + +"An' we're goin' to do it, Hinnissy. Th' rayciption that this here +sintimint has rayceived fr'm ivry wan that has a son in colledge is +almost tumulchuse. We feel like a long-lost brother that's been +settin' outside in th' cold f'r a week, an' is now ast in to +supper--an' sarched at th' dure f'r deadly weepins. We'll have to set +up sthraight an' mind our manners. No tuckin' our napkins down our +throats or dhrinkin' out iv th' saucer or kickin' our boots off undher +the table. No reachin' f'r annything, but 'Mah, will ye kindly pass +th' Ph'lippeens?' or 'No, thank ye, pah, help ye'ersilf first.' + +"An' will we stay in? Faith, I dinnaw. We feel kindly to each other; +but it looks to me like, th' first up in th' mornin', th' first away +with th' valu'bles." + +"I'll niver come in," protested Mr. Hennessy, stoutly. + +"No more ye will, ye rebelyous omadhon," said Mr. Dooley. "An' 'twas +thinkin' iv you an' th' likes iv you an' Schwartzmeister an' th' likes +iv him that med me wondher. If th' 'liance got into a war with +Garmany, an' some wan was to start a rough-an'-tumble in Ireland about +iliction time, I wondher wud th' cimint hold!" + + + + +HANGING ALDERMEN. + + +Chicago is always on the point of hanging some one and quartering him +and boiling him in hot pitch, and assuring him that he has lost the +respect of all honorable men. Rumors of a characteristic agitation had +come faintly up Archey Road, and Mr. Hennessy had heard of it. + +"I hear they're goin' to hang th' aldhermen," he said. "If they thry +it on Willum J. O'Brien, they'd betther bombard him first. I'd hate to +be th' man that 'd be called to roll with him to his doom. He cud lick +th' whole Civic Featheration." + +"I believe ye," said Mr. Dooley. "He's a powerful man. But I hear +there is, as ye say, what th' pa-apers 'd call a movement on fut f'r +to dec'rate Chris'mas threes with aldhermen, an' 'tis wan that ought +to be encouraged. Nawthin' cud be happyer, as Hogan says, thin th' +thought iv cillybratin' th' season be sthringin' up some iv th' +fathers iv th' city where th' childher cud see thim. But I'm afraid, +Hinnissy, that you an' me won't see it. 'Twill all be over soon, an' +Willum J. O'Brien 'll go by with his head just as near his shoulders +as iver. 'Tis har-rd to hang an aldherman, annyhow. Ye'd have to +suspind most iv thim be th' waist. + +"Man an' boy, I've been in this town forty year an' more; an' divvle +th' aldherman have I see hanged yet, though I've sthrained th' eyes +out iv me head watchin' f'r wan iv thim to be histed anny pleasant +mornin'. They've been goin' to hang thim wan week an' presintin' thim +with a dimon' star th' next iver since th' year iv th' big wind, an' +there's jus' as manny iv thim an' jus' as big robbers as iver there +was. + +"An' why shud they hang thim, Hinnissy? Why shud they? I'm an honest +man mesilf, as men go. Ye might have ye'er watch, if ye had wan, on +that bar f'r a year, an' I'd niver touch it. It wudden't be worth me +while. I'm an honest man. I pay me taxes, whin Tim Ryan isn't assessor +with Grogan's boy on th' books. I do me jooty; an' I believe in th' +polis foorce, though not in polismen. That's diff'rent. But honest as +I am, between you an' me, if I was an aldherman, I wudden't say, be +hivins, I think I'd stand firm; but--well, if some wan come to me an' +said, 'Dooley, here's fifty thousan' dollars f'r ye'er vote to betray +th' sacred inthrests iv Chicago,' I'd go to Father Kelly an' ask th' +prayers iv th' congregation. + +"'Tis not, Hinnissy, that this man Yerkuss goes up to an aldherman an' +says out sthraight, 'Here, Bill, take this bundle, an' be an infamious +scoundhrel.' That's th' way th' man in Mitchigan Avnoo sees it, but +'tis not sthraight. D'ye mind Dochney that was wanst aldherman here? +Ye don't. Well, I do. He ran a little conthractin' business down be +Halsted Sthreet 'Twas him built th' big shed f'r th' ice comp'ny. He +was a fine man an' a sthrong wan. He begun his political career be +lickin' a plasthrer be th' name iv Egan, a man that had th' County +Clare thrip an' was thought to be th' akel iv anny man in town. Fr'm +that he growed till he bate near ivry man he knew, an' become very +pop'lar, so that he was sint to th' council. Now Dochney was an honest +an' sober man whin he wint in; but wan day a man come up to him, an' +says he, 'Ye know that ordhnance Schwartz inthrajooced?' 'I do,' says +Dochney, 'an I'm again it. 'Tis a swindle,' he says. "Well,' says th' +la-ad, 'they'se five thousan' in it f'r ye,' he says. They had to pry +Dochney off iv him. Th' nex' day a man he knowed well come to Dochney, +an' says he, 'That's a fine ordhnance iv Schwartz.' 'It is, like +hell,' says Dochney. ''Tis a plain swindle,' he says. ''Tis a good +thing f'r th' comp'nies,' says this man; 'but look what they've done +f'r th' city,' he says, 'an think,' he says, 'iv th' widdies an' +orphans,' he says, 'that has their har-rd-earned coin invisted,' he +says. An' a tear rolled down his cheek. 'I'm an orphan mesilf,' says +Dochney; 'an' as f'r th' widdies, anny healthy widdy with sthreet-car +stock ought to be ashamed iv hersilf if she's a widdy long,' he says. +An' th' man wint away. + +"Now Dochney thought he'd put th' five thousan' out iv his mind, but +he hadn't. He'd on'y laid it by, an' ivry time he closed his eyes he +thought iv it. 'Twas a shame to give th' comp'nies what they wanted, +but th' five thousan' was a lot iv money. 'Twud lift th' morgedge. +'Twud clane up th' notes on th' new conthract. 'Twud buy a new dhress +f'r Mrs. Dochney. He begun to feel sorrowful f'r th' widdies an' +orphans. 'Poor things!' says he to himsilf, says he. 'Poor things, how +they must suffer!' he says; 'an' I need th' money. Th' sthreet-car +comp'nies is robbers,' he says; 'but 'tis thrue they've built up th' +city,' he says, 'an th' money 'd come in handy,' he says. 'No wan 'd be +hurted, annyhow,' he says; 'an', sure, it ain't a bribe f'r to take +money f'r doin' something ye want to do, annyhow,' he says. 'Five +thousan' widdies an' orphans,' he says; an' he wint to sleep. + +"That was th' way he felt whin he wint down to see ol' Simpson to +renew his notes, an' Simpson settled it. 'Dochney,' he says, 'I wisht +ye'd pay up,' he says. 'I need th' money,' he says. 'I'm afraid th' +council won't pass th' Schwartz ordhnance,' he says; 'an' it manes +much to me,' he says. 'Be th' way,' he says, 'how're ye goin' to vote +on that ordhnance?' he says. 'I dinnaw,' says Dochney. 'Well,' says +Simpson (Dochney tol' me this himsilf), 'whin ye find out, come an' +see me about th' notes,' he says. An' Dochney wint to th' meetin'; +an', whin his name was called, he hollered 'Aye,' so loud a chunk iv +plaster fell out iv th' ceilin' an' stove in th' head iv a rayform +aldherman." + +"Did they hang him?" asked Mr. Hennessy. + +"Faith, they did not," said Mr. Dooley. "He begun missin' his jooty at +wanst. Aldhermen always do that after th' first few weeks. 'Ye got +ye'er money,' says Father Kelly; 'an' much good may it do ye,' he +says. 'Well,' says Dochney, 'I'd be a long time prayin' mesilf into +five thousan',' he says. An' he become leader in th' council. Th' las' +ordhnance he inthrojooced was wan establishin' a license f'r churches, +an' compellin' thim to keep their fr-ront dure closed an' th' blinds +drawn on Sundah. He was expelled fr'm th' St. Vincent de Pauls, an' +ilicted a director iv a bank th' same day. + +"Now, Hinnissy, that there man niver knowed he was bribed--th' first +time. Th' second time he knew. He ast f'r it. An' I wudden't hang +Dochney. I wudden't if I was sthrong enough. But some day I'm goin' to +let me temper r-run away with me, an' get a comity together, an' go +out an' hang ivry dam widdy an' orphan between th' rollin' mills an' +th' foundlin's' home. If it wasn't f'r thim raypechious crathers, +they'd be no boodle annywhere." + +"Well, don't forget Simpson," said Mr. Hennessy. + +"I won't," said Mr. Dooley, "I won't." + + + + +THE GRIP. + + +Mr. Dooley was discovered making a seasonable beverage, consisting of +one part syrup, two parts quinine, and fifteen parts strong waters. + +"What's the matter?" asked Mr. McKenna. + +"I have th' lah gr-rip," said Mr. Dooley, blowing his nose and wiping +his eyes. "Bad cess to it! Oh, me poor back! I feels as if a dhray had +run over it. Did ye iver have it? Ye did not? Well, ye're lucky. Ye're +a lucky man. + +"I wint to McGuire's wake las' week. They gave him a dacint sind-off. +No porther. An' himsilf looked natural, as fine a corpse as iver Gavin +layed out. Gavin tould me so himsilf. He was as proud iv McGuire as if +he owned him. Fetched half th' town in to look at him, an' give ivry +wan iv thim cards. He near frightened ol' man Dugan into a faint. +'Misther Dugan, how old a-are ye?' 'Sivinty-five, thanks be,' says +Dugan. 'Thin,' says Gavin, 'take wan iv me cards,' he says. 'I hope +ye'll not forget me,' he says. + +"'Twas there I got th' lah grip. Lastewise, it is me opinion iv it, +though th' docthor said I swallowed a bug. It don't seem right, Jawn, +f'r th' McGuires is a clane fam'ly; but th' docthor said a bug got +into me system. 'What sort iv bug?' says I. 'A lah grip bug,' he says. +'Ye have Mickrobes in ye'er lungs,' he says. 'What's thim?' says I. +'Thim's th' lah grip bugs,' says he. 'Ye took wan in, an' warmed it,' +he says; 'an' it has growed an' multiplied till ye'er system does be +full iv' thim,' he says, 'millions iv thim,' he says, 'marchin' an' +counthermarchin' through ye.' 'Glory be to the saints!' says I. 'Had I +better swallow some insect powdher?' I says. 'Some iv thim in me head +has a fallin' out, an' is throwin' bricks.' 'Foolish man,' says he. +'Go to bed,' he says, 'an' lave thim alone,' he says, 'Whin they find +who they're in,' he says, 'they'll quit ye.' + +"So I wint to bed, an' waited while th' Mickrobes had fun with me. +Mondah all iv thim was quite but thim in me stummick. They stayed up +late dhrinkin' an' carousin' an' dancin' jigs till wurruds come up +between th' Kerry Mickrobes an' thim fr'm Wexford; an' th' whole party +wint over to me left lung, where they cud get th' air, an' had it out. +Th' nex' day th' little Mickrobes made a toboggan slide iv me spine; +an' manetime some Mickrobes that was wurkin' f'r th' tilliphone +comp'ny got it in their heads that me legs was poles, an' put on their +spikes an' climbed all night long. + +"They was tired out th' nex' day till about five o'clock, whin thim +that was in me head begin flushin' out th' rooms; an' I knew there was +goin' to be doin's in th' top flat. What did thim Mickrobes do but +invite all th' other Mickrobes in f'r th' ev'nin'. They all come. Oh, +by gar, they was not wan iv them stayed away. At six o'clock they +begin to move fr'm me shins to me throat. They come in platoons an' +squads an' dhroves. Some iv thirn brought along brass bands, an' more +thin wan hundherd thousand iv thim dhruv through me pipes on dhrays. A +throlley line was started up me back, an' ivry car run into a +wagon-load iv scrap iron at th' base iv me skull. + +"Th' Mickrobes in me head must 've done thimsilves proud. Ivry few +minyits th' kids 'd be sint out with th' can, an' I'd say to mesilf: +'There they go, carryin' th' thrade to Schwartzmeister's because I'm +sick an' can't wait on thim.' I was daffy, Jawn, d'ye mind. Th' likes +iv me fillin' a pitcher f'r a little boy-bug! Such dhreams! An' they +had a game iv forty-fives; an' there was wan Mickrobe that larned to +play th' game in th' County Tipp'rary, where 'tis played on stone, an' +ivry time he led thrumps he'd like to knock me head off. 'Whose thrick +is that?' says th' Tipp'rary Mickrobe. ''Tis mine,' says th' +red-headed Mickrobe fr'm th' County Roscommon. They tipped over th' +chairs an' tables: an', in less time thin it takes to tell, th' whole +party was at it. They'd been a hurlin' game in th' back iv me skull, +an' th' young folks was dancin' breakdowns an' havin' leppin' matches +in me forehead; but they all stopped to mix in. Oh, 'twas a grand +shindig--tin millions iv men, women, an' childher rowlin' on th' +flure, hands an' feet goin', ice-picks an' hurlin' sticks, clubs, +brickbats, an' beer kags flyin' in th' air! How manny iv thim was kilt +I niver knew; f'r I wint as daft as a hen, an' dhreamt iv organizin' a +Mickrobe Campaign Club that 'd sweep th' prim'ries, an' maybe go acrost +an' free Ireland. Whin I woke up, me legs was as weak as a day old +baby's, an' me poor head impty as a cobbler's purse. I want no more iv +thim. Give me anny bug fr'm a cockroach to an aygle save an' excipt +thim West iv Ireland Fenians, th' Mickrobes." + + + + +LEXOW. + + +"This here wave iv rayform," said Mr. Dooley, "this here wave iv +rayform, Jawn, mind ye, that's sweepin' over th' counthry, mind ye, +now, Jawn, is raisin' th' divvle, I see be th' pa-apers. I've seen +waves iv rayform before, Jawn. Whin th' people iv this counthry gets +wurruked up, there's no stoppin' thim. They'll not dhraw breath until +ivry man that took a dollar iv a bribe is sent down th' r-road. Thim +that takes two goes on th' comity iv th' wave iv rayform. + +"It sthruck th' r-road las' week. Darcey, th' new polisman on th' bate, +comes in here ivry night f'r to study spellin' an' figgers. I think +they'll throw him down, whin he goes to be examined. Wan iv th' wild +la-ads down be th' slough hit him with a brick wanst, an' he ain't been +able to do fractions since. Thin he's got inflammathry rheumatism +enough to burn a barn, an' he can't turn a page without makin' ye think +he's goin' to lose a thumb. He's got wife an' childher, an' he's on in +years; but he's a polisman, an' he's got to be rayformed. I tell him +all I can. He didn't know where St. Pethersburg was till I tould him it +was th' capital iv Sweden. They'll not give him th' boots on that +there question. Ye bet ye'er life they won't, Jawn. + +"I seen th' aldherman go by yisterdah; an' he'd shook his dimon 'stud, +an' he looked as poor as a dhrayman. He's rayformed. Th' little +Dutchman that was ilicted to th' legislachure says he will stay home. +Says I, 'Why?' Says he, 'There's nawthin' in it.' He's rayformed. Th' +wather inspictor, that used to take a dhrink an' a seegar an' report +me two pipes less thin I have, turned me in las' week f'r a garden +hose an' a ploonge bath. He's rayformed. Th' wave iv rayform has +sthruck, an' we're all goin' around now with rubbers on. + +"They've organized th' Ar-rchey Road Lexow Sodality, an' 'tis th' wan +institootion that Father Kelly up west iv th' bridge 'll duck his head +to. All th' best citizens is in it. Th' best citizens is thim that th' +statue iv limitations was made f'r. Barrister Hogan tol' me--an' a +dacint man, but give to dhrink--that, whin a man cud hide behind th' +statue iv limitations, he was all r-right. I niver seen it. Is that +th' wan on th' lake front? No, tubby sure, tubby sure. No wan 'd hide +behind that. + +"Th' Ar-rchey Road Lexow Sodality is composed iv none but square men. +They all have th' coin, Jawn. A man that's broke can't be square. He's +got too much to do payin' taxes. If I had a million, divvle th' step +would I step to confession. I'd make th' soggarth come an' confess to +me. They say that th' sthreets iv Hivin was paved with goold. I'll bet +ye tin to wan that with all th' square men that goes there ivry year +they have ilecloth down now." + +"Oh, go on," said Mr. McKenna. + +"I was goin' to tell ye about th' Lexow Sodality. Well, th' chairman +iv it is Doherty, th' retired plumber. He sold me a house an' lot +wanst, an' skinned me out iv wan hundherd dollars. He got th' house +an' lot back an' a morgedge. But did ye iver notice th' scar on his +nose? I was r-rough in thim days. Ol' Mike Hogan is another mimber. Ye +know him. They say he hires constables be th' day f'r to serve five +days' notices. Manny's th' time I see th' little furniture out on th' +sthreet, an' th' good woman rockin' her baby under th' open sky. +Hogan's tinants. Ol' Dinnis Higgins is another wan. An' Brannigan, th' +real estate dealer. He was in th' assissors' office. May Gawd forgive +him! An' Clancy, that was bail-bondman at Twelfth Sthreet. + +"They appointed comities, an' they held a meetin'. I wint there. So +did some iv th' others. 'Twas at Finucane's, an' th' hall was crowded. +All th' sodality made speeches. Doherty made a great wan. Th' air was +reekin' with corruption, says he. Th' polis foorce was rotten to th' +core. Th' rights iv property was threatened. What, says he, was we +goin' to do about it? + +"Danny Gallagher got up, as good a lad as iver put that in his face to +desthroy his intelligence, as Shakspere says. 'Gintlemen,' says he, +'wan wurrud befure we lave,' he says. 'I've listened to th' speeches +here to-night with satisfaction,' he says. 'I'm proud to see th' +rayform wave have sthruck th' road,' he says. 'Th' rascals must be +dhriven fr'm th' high places,' he says. 'I see befure me in a chair a +gintleman who wud steal a red-hot stove an' freeze th' lid befure he +got home. On me right is th' gintleman who advanced th' wave iv +rayform tin years ago be puttin' Mrs. Geohegan out on th' sthreet in a +snowstorm whin she was roarin' with a cough. Mrs. Geohegan have +rayformed, peace be with her undher th' dhrifts iv Calv'ry! I am +greeted be th' smile iv me ol' frind Higgins. We are ol' frinds, +Dinnis, now, ain't we? D'ye mind th' calls I made on ye, with th' +stamps undher me arms, whin I wurruked in th' post-office? I've +thought iv thim whin th' lockstep was goin' in to dinner, an' prayed +f'r th' day whin I might see ye again. An' you, Misther Brannigan, who +knows about vacant lots, an' you Misther Clancy, th' frind iv th' +dhrunk an' disordherly, we're proud to have ye here. 'Tis be such as +ye that th' polisman who dhrinks on th' sly, an' th' saloon-keeper +that keeps open f'r th' la-ads an' th' newsboys that shoots craps, 'll +be brought to justice. Down with crime! says I. Fellow-citizens, I +thank ye kindly. Th' meetin' is adjourned siney dee; an' I app'int +Missers Dooley, O'Brien, Casey, Pug Slattery, an' mesilf to lade out +th' Lexow Sodality be th' nose.'" + +Mr. McKenna arose sleepily, and walked toward the door. + +"Jawn," said Mr. Dooley. + +"Yes," responded Mr. McKenna. + +"Niver steal a dure-mat," said Mr. Dooley. "If ye do, ye'll be +invistigated, hanged, an' maybe rayformed. Steal a bank, me boy, steal +a bank." + + + + +THEIR EXCELLENCIES, THE POLICE. + + +"Ye'll be goin' home early to-night, Jawn dear," said Mr. Dooley to +Mr. McKenna. + +"And for why?" said that gentleman, tilting lazily back in the chair. + +"Because gin'ral ordher number wan is out," said Mr. Dooley, +"directin' th' polis to stop ivry man catched out afther midnight an' +make thim give a satisfacthry account iv thimsilves or run thim off to +jail. Iv coorse, ye'll be pinched, f'r ye won't dare say where ye come +fr'm; an' 'tis twinty-eight to wan, the odds again an Orangeman at a +wake, that ye'll not know where ye're goin'." + +"Tut, tut," said Mr. McKenna, indifferently. + +"Ye may tut-tut till ye lay an egg," said Mr. Dooley, severely, "ye +ol' hen; but 'tis so. I read it in th' pa-papers yesterdah afthernoon +that Brinnan--'tis queer how thim Germans all get to be polismen, +they're bright men, th' Germans, I don't think--Brinnan says, says he, +that th' city do be overrun with burglars an' highwaymen, so he +ordhers th' polis to stick up ivry pedesthreen they meet afther +closin' time. 'Tis good for him he named th' hour, f'r 'tis few +pedesthreens save an' except th' little kids with panneckers that most +iv th' polis meet befure midnight. Look at there table, will ye? 'An +ax done it,' says ye? No, faith, but th' fist iv a Kerry polisman they +put on this here bate last week. He done it ladin' thrumps. 'Thank +Gawd," says I, 'ye didn't have a good hand,' I says, 'or I might have to +call in th' wreckin' wagon.' Thim Kerry men shud be made to play +forty-fives with boxin'-gloves on. + +"I read about th' ordher, but it slipped me min' las' night. I was +down at a meetin' iv th' Hugh O'Neills, an' a most intherestin' +meetin' it was, Jawn. I'd been niglictful iv me jooty to th' cause iv +late, an' I was surprised an' shocked to hear how poor ol' Ireland was +sufferin'. Th' rayport fr'm th' Twinty-third Wa-ard, which is in th' +County Mayo, showed that th' sthreet clanin' conthract had been give +to a Swede be th' name iv Oleson; an' over in th' Nineteenth Wa-ard +th' County Watherford is all stirred up because Johnny Powers is +filled th' pipe-ya-ard with his own rilitives. I felt dam lonely, an' +with raison, too; f'r I was th' on'y man in th' camp that didn't have +a job. An' says I, 'Gintlemen,' says I, 'can't I do something f'r +Ireland, too?' I says. 'I'd make a gr-reat city threasurer,' says I, +'if ye've th' job handy,' I says; and at that they give me th' laugh, +and we tuk up a subscription an' adjourned. + +"Well, sir, I started up Ar-rchey Road afther th' meetin', forgettin' +about Brennan's ordhers, whin a man jumps out fr'm behind a tree near +th' gas-house. 'Melia murther!' says I to mesilf. ''Tis a highwayman!' +Thin, puttin' on a darin' front an' reachin' f'r me handkerchief, I +says, 'Stand back, robber!' I says. 'Stand back, robber!' I says. +'Stand back!' I says. + +"'Excuse _me_,' says th' la-ad. 'I beg ye'er pardon,' he says. + +"'Beg th' pardon iv Hiven,' says I, 'f'r stoppin' a desperate man in +th' sthreet,' says I; 'f'r in a holy minyit I'll blow off th' head iv +ye,' says I, with me hand on th' handkerchief that niver blew nawthin' +but this nose iv mine." + +"'I humbly ask your pardon,' he says, showin' a star; 'but I'm a +polisman.' + +"'Polisman or robber,' says I, 'stand aside!' I says. + +"'I'm a polisman,' he says, 'an' I'm undher ordhers to be polite with +citizens I stop,' he says; 'but, if ye don't duck up that road in half +a minyit, ye poy-faced, red-eyed, lop-eared, thick-headed ol' +bosthoon,' he says, 'I'll take ye be th' scruff iv th' neck an' thrun +ye into th' ga-as-house tank,' he says, 'if I'm coort-martialed f'r it +to-morrow.' + +"Thin I knew he _was_ a polisman; an' I wint away, Jawn." + + + + +SHAUGHNESSY. + + +"Jawn," said Mr. Dooley in the course of the conversation, "whin ye +come to think iv it, th' heroes iv th' wurruld,--an' be thim I mean +th' lads that've buckled on th' gloves, an' gone out to do th' best +they cud,--they ain't in it with th' quite people nayether you nor me +hears tell iv fr'm wan end iv th' year to another." + +"I believe it," said Mr. McKenna; "for my mother told me so." + +"Sure," said Mr. Dooley, "I know it is an old story. Th' wurruld's +been full iv it fr'm th' beginnin'; an' 'll be full iv it till, as +Father Kelly says, th' pay-roll's closed. But I was thinkin' more iv +it th' other night thin iver before, whin I wint to see Shaughnessy +marry off his on'y daughter. You know Shaughnessy,--a quite man that +come into th' road before th' fire. He wurruked f'r Larkin, th' +conthractor, f'r near twinty years without skip or break, an' seen th' +fam'ly grow up be candle-light. Th' oldest boy was intinded f'r a +priest. 'Tis a poor fam'ly that hasn't some wan that's bein' iddycated +f'r the priesthood while all th' rest wear thimsilves to skeletons f'r +him, an' call him Father Jawn 'r Father Mike whin he comes home wanst +a year, light-hearted an' free, to eat with thim. + +"Shaughnessy's lad wint wrong in his lungs, an' they fought death f'r +him f'r five years, sindin' him out to th' Wist an' havin' masses said +f'r him; an', poor divvle, he kept comin' back cross an' crool, with +th' fire in his cheeks, till wan day he laid down, an' says he: 'Pah,' +he says, 'I'm goin' to give up,' he says. 'An' I on'y ask that ye'll +have th' mass sung over me be some man besides Father Kelly,' he says. +An' he wint, an' Shaughnessy come clumpin' down th' aisle like a man +in a thrance. + +"Well, th' nex' wan was a girl, an' she didn't die; but, th' less +said, th' sooner mended. Thin they was Terrence, a big, bould, +curly-headed lad that cocked his hat at anny man,--or woman f'r th' +matter iv that,--an' that bruk th' back iv a polisman an' swum to th' +crib, an' was champeen iv th' South Side at hand ball. An' he wint. +Thin th' good woman passed away. An' th' twins they growed to be th' +prettiest pair that wint to first communion; an' wan night they was a +light in th' window of Shaughnessy's house till three in th' mornin'. +I rayminiber it; f'r I had quite a crowd iv Willum Joyce's men in, an' +we wondhered at it, an' wint home whin th' lamp in Shaughnessy's +window was blown out. + +"They was th' wan girl left,--Theresa, a big, clean-lookin' child that +I see grow up fr'm hello to good avnin'. She thought on'y iv th' ol' +man, an' he leaned on her as if she was a crutch. She was out to meet +him in th' ev'nin'; an' in th' mornin' he, th' simple ol' man, 'd stop +to blow a kiss at her an' wave his dinner-pail, lookin' up an' down +th' r-road to see that no wan was watchin' him. + +"I dinnaw what possessed th' young Donahue, fr'm th' Nineteenth. I +niver thought much iv him, a stuck-up, aisy-come la-ad that niver had +annything but a civil wurrud, an' is prisident iv th' sodality. But he +came in, an' married Theresa Shaughnessy las' Thursdah night. Th' ol' +man took on twinty years, but he was as brave as a gin'ral iv th' +army. He cracked jokes an' he made speeches; an' he took th' pipes +fr'm under th' elbow iv Hogan, th' blindman, an' played 'Th' Wind that +shakes th' Barley' till ye'd have wore ye'er leg to a smoke f'r +wantin' to dance. Thin he wint to th' dure with th' two iv thim; an' +says he, 'Well,' he says, 'Jim, be good to her,' he says, an' shook +hands with her through th' carredge window. + +"Him an' me sat a long time smokin' across th' stove. Fin'lly, says I, +'Well,' I says, 'I must be movin'.' 'What's th' hurry?' says he. 'I've +got to go,' says I. 'Wait a moment,' says he. 'Theresa 'll'--He stopped +right there f'r a minyit, holdin' to th' back iv th' chair. 'Well,' +says he, 'if ye've got to go, ye must,' he says. 'I'll show ye out,' +he says. An' he come with me to th' dure, holdin' th' lamp over his +head. I looked back at him as I wint by; an' he was settin' be th' +stove, with his elbows on his knees an' th' empty pipe between his +teeth." + + + + +TIMES PAST. + + +Mr. McKenna, looking very warm and tired, came in to Mr. Dooley's +tavern one night last week, and smote the bar with his fist. + +"What's the matter with Hogan?" he said. + +"What Hogan?" asked Mr. Dooley. "Malachy or Matt? Dinnis or Mike? +Sarsfield or William Hogan? There's a Hogan f'r ivry block in th' +Ar-rchey Road, an' wan to spare. There's nawthin' th' matter with anny +iv thim; but, if ye mean Hogan, th' liquor dealer, that r-run f'r +aldherman, I'll say to ye he's all right. Mind ye, Jawn, I'm doin' +this because ye're me frind; but, by gar, if anny wan else comes in +an' asks me that question, I'll kill him, if I have to go to th' +bridewell f'r it. I'm no health officer." + +Having delivered himself of this tirade, Mr. Dooley scrutinized Mr. +McKenna sharply, and continued: "Ye've been out ilictin' some man, +Jawn, an' ye needn't deny it. I seen it th' minyit ye come in. Ye'er +hat's dinted, an' ye have ye'er necktie over ye'er ear; an' I see be +ye'er hand ye've hit a Dutchman. Jawn, ye know no more about politics +thin a mimber iv this here Civic Featheration. Didn't ye have a beer +bottle or an ice-pick? Ayether iv thim is good, though, whin I was a +young man an' precint captain an' intherested in th' welfare iv th' +counthry, I found a couplin' pin in a stockin' about as handy as +annything. + +"Thim days is over, though, Jawn, an' between us politics don't +intherest me no more. They ain't no liveliness in thim. Whin Andy +Duggan r-run f'r aldherman against Schwartzmeister, th' big +Dutchman,--I was precinct captain then, Jawn,--there was an iliction +f'r ye. 'Twas on our precinct they relied to ilict Duggan; f'r the +Dutch was sthrong down be th' thrack, an' Schwartzmeister had a band +out playin' 'Th' Watch on th' Rhine.' Well, sir, we opened th' polls +at six o'clock, an' there was tin Schwartzmeister men there to protect +his intherests. At sivin o'clock there was only three, an' wan iv thim +was goin' up th' sthreet with Hinnissy kickin' at him. At eight +o'clock, be dad,' there was on'y wan; an' he was sittin' on th' roof +iv Gavin's blacksmith shop, an' th' la-ads was thryin' to borrow a +laddher fr'm th' injine-house f'r to get at him. 'Twas thruck +eighteen; an' Hogan, that was captain, wudden't let thim have it. Not +ye'er Hogan, Jawn, but th' meanest fireman in Bridgeport. He got kilt +aftherwards. He wudden't let th' la-ads have a laddher, an' th' +Dutchman stayed up there; an', whin there was nawthin' to do, we wint +over an' thrun bricks at him. 'Twas gr-reat sport. + +"About four in th' afthernoon Schwartzmeister's band come up Ar-rchey +Road, playin' 'Th' Watch on th' Rhine.' Whin it got near Gavin's, big +Peter Nolan tuk a runnin' jump, an' landed feet first in th' big bass +dhrum. Th' man with th' dhrum walloped him over th' head with th' +dhrum-stick, an' Dorsey Quinn wint over an' tuk a slide trombone away +fr'm the musician an' clubbed th' bass dhrum man with it. Thin we all +wint over, an' ye niver see th' like in ye'er born days. Th' las' I +see iv th' band it was goin' down th' road towards th' slough with a +mob behind it, an' all th' polis foorce fr'm Deerin' Sthreet afther +th' mob. Th' la-ads collected th' horns an' th' dhrums, an' that +started th' Ar-rchey Road brass band. Little Mike Doyle larned to play +'Th' Rambler fr'm Clare' beautifully on what they call a pickle-e-o +befure they sarved a rayplivin writ on him. + +"We cast twinty-wan hundherd votes f'r Duggan, an' they was on'y five +hundherd votes in th' precinct. We'd cast more, but th' tickets give +out. They was tin votes in th' box f'r Schwartzmeister whin we counted +up; an' I felt that mortified I near died, me bein' precinct captain, +an' res-sponsible. 'What 'll we do with thim? Out th' window,' says I. +Just thin Dorsey's nanny-goat that died next year put her head through +th' dure. 'Monica,' says Dorsey (he had pretty names for all his +goats), 'Monica, are ye hungry,' he says, 'ye poor dear?' Th' goat +give him a pleadin' look out iv her big brown eyes. 'Can't I make ye +up a nice supper?' says Dorsey. 'Do ye like paper?' he says. 'Would ye +like to help desthroy a Dutchman,' he says, 'an' perform a sarvice f'r +ye'er counthry?' he says. Thin he wint out in th' next room, an' come +back with a bottle iv catsup; an' he poured it on th' Schwartzmeister +ballots, an' Monica et thim without winkin'. + +"Well, sir, we ilicted Duggan; an' what come iv it? Th' week before +iliction he was in me house ivry night, an' 'twas 'Misther Dooley, +this,' an' 'Mr. Dooley, that,' an' 'What 'll ye have, boys?' an' +'Niver mind about th' change.' I niver see hide nor hair iv him f'r a +week afther iliction. Thin he come with a plug hat on, an' says he: +'Dooley,' he says, 'give me a shell iv beer,' he says: 'give me a +shell iv beer,' he says, layin' down a nickel. 'I suppose ye're on th' +sub-scription,' he says. 'What for?' says I. 'F'r to buy me a goold +star,' says he. With that I eyes him, an' says I: 'Duggan,' I says, +'I knowed ye whin ye didn't have a coat to ye'er back,' I says, 'an' I +'ll buy no star f'r ye,' I says. 'But I'll tell ye what I'll buy f'r +ye,' I says. 'I'll buy rayqueem masses f'r th' raypose iv ye'er sowl, +if ye don't duck out iv this in a minyit,' Whin I seen him last, he +was back dhrivin' a dhray an' atin' his dinner out iv a tin can." + + + + +THE SKIRTS OF CHANCE. + + +The people of Bridgeport are not solicitous of modern improvements, +and Mr. Dooley views with distaste the new and garish. But he +consented to install a nickel-in-the-slot machine in his tavern last +week, and it was standing on a table when Mr. McKenna came in. It was +a machine that looked like a house; and, when you put a nickel in at +the top of it, either the door opened and released three other nickels +or it did not. Mostly it did not. + +Mr. Dooley saluted Mr. McKenna with unusual cordiality, and Mr. +McKenna inspected the nickel-in-the-slot machine with affectation of +much curiosity. + +"What's this you have here, at all?" said Mr. McKenna. + +"'Tis an aisy way iv gettin' rich," said Mr. Dooley. "All ye have to +do is to dhrop a nickel in th' slot, an' three other nickels come out +at th' dure. Ye can play it all afthernoon, an' take a fortune fr'm it +if ye'er nickels hould out." + +"And where do th' nickels come fr'm?" asked Mr. McKenna. + +"I put thim in," said Mr. Dooley. "Ivry twinty minutes I feed th' +masheen a hatful iv nickels, so that whin me frinds dhrop in they +won't be dissypinted, d'ye mind. 'Tis a fine invistment for a young +man. Little work an' large profits. It rayminds me iv Hogan's big kid +an' what he done with his coin. He made a lot iv it in dhrivin' a +ca-ar, he did, but he blew it all in again good liquor an' bad women; +an', bedad, he was broke half th' time an' borrowin' th' other half. +So Hogan gets in Father Kelly fr'm up west iv th' bridge, an' they set +in with Dinnis to talk him out iv his spindthrift ways. 'I have plenty +to keep mesilf,' says Hogan, he says. 'But,' he says, 'I want ye to +save ye'er money,' he says, 'f'r a rainy day.' 'He's right, Dinnis,' +says th' soggarth,--'he's right,' he says. 'Ye should save a little in +case ye need it,' he says. 'Why don't ye take two dollars,' says th' +priest, 'an' invist it ivry month,' says he, 'in somethin',' says he, +'that 'll give ye profits,' says he. 'I'll do it,' says Dinnis,--'I +'ll do it,' he says. Well, sir, Hogan was that tickled he give th' +good man five bones out iv th' taypot; but, faith, Dinnis was back at +his reg'lar game before th' week was out, an', afther a month or two, +whin Hogan had to get th' tayspoons out iv soak, he says to th' kid, +he says, 'I thought ye was goin' to brace up,' he says, 'an' here +ye're burnin' up ye'er money,' he says. 'Didn't ye promise to invist +two dollars ivry month?' he says. 'I'm doin' it,' says Dinnis. 'I've +kept me wurrud.' 'An' what are ye invistin' it in?' says Hogan. 'In +lotthry tickets,' says th' imp'dent kid." + +While delivering these remarks, Mr. Dooley was peeping over his +glasses at Mr. McKenna, who was engaged in a struggle with the +machine. He dropped a nickel and it rattled down the slot, but it did +not open the door. + +"Doesn't it open?" said Mr. Dooley. + +"It does not." + +"Shake it thin," said Mr. Dooley. "Something must be wrong." + +Mr. McKenna shook the machine when he inserted the next nickel, but +there was no compensatory flow of coins from the door. + +"Perhaps the money is bad," suggested Mr. Dooley. "It won't open f'r +bad money." + +Thereupon he returned to his newspaper, observing which Mr. McKenna +drew from his pocket a nickel attached to a piece of string and +dropped it into the slot repeatedly. After a while the door popped +open, and Mr. McKenna thrust in his hand expectantly. There was no +response, and he turned in great anger to Mr. Dooley. + +"There ain't any money there," he said. + +"Ye're right, Jawn," responded Mr. Dooley. "If ye expect to dhraw anny +coin fr'm that there masheen, ye may call on some iv ye'er rough +frinds down town f'r a brace an' bit an' a jimmy. Jawn, me la-ad, I +see th' nickel with th' string before; an', to provide again it, I +improved th' masheen. Thim nickels ye dhropped in are all in th' +dhrawer iv that there table, an' to-morrow mornin' ye may see me +havin' me hair cut be means iv thim. An' I'll tell ye wan thing, Jawn +McKenna, an' that's not two things, that if ye think ye can come up +here to Ar-rchey Road an' rob an honest man, by gar, ye've made th' +mistake iv ye'er life. Goowan, now, before I call a polisman." + +Mr. McKenna stopped at the door only long enough to shake his fist at +the proprietor, who responded with a grin of pure contentment. + + + + +WHEN THE TRUST IS AT WORK. + + +"Which d'ye think makes th' best fun'ral turnout, th' A-ho-aitches or +th' Saint Vincent de Pauls, Jawn?" asked Mr. Dooley. + +"I don't know," said Mr. McKenna. "Are you thinking of leaving us?" + +"Faith, I am not," said Mr. Dooley. "Since th' warm weather's come an' +th' wind's in th' south, so that I can tell at night that A-armoor an' +me ol' frind, Jawn Brinnock, are attindin' to business, I have a grip +on life like th' wan ye have on th' shank iv that shell iv malt. +Whether 'tis these soft days, with th' childher beginnin' to play +barefutted in th' sthreet an' th' good women out to palaver over th' +fence without their shawls, or whether 'tis th' wan wurrud Easter +Sundah that comes on me, an' jolts me up with th' thoughts iv th' +la-ads goin' to mass an' th' blackthorn turnin' green beyant, I +dinnaw. But annyhow I'm as gay as a babby an' as fresh as a lark. I am +so. + +"I was on'y thinkin'. Ol' Gran'pah Grogan died las' Mondah,--as good a +man as e'er counted his beads or passed th' plate. A thrue man. +Choosdah a Connock man up back iv th' dumps laid down th' shovel. +Misther Grogan had a grand notice in th' pa-apers: 'Grogan, at his +late risidence, 279 A-archoor Avnoo, Timothy Alexander, beloved +husband iv th' late Mary Grogan, father iv Maurice, Michael, Timothy, +Edward, James, Peter, Paul, an' Officer Andrew Grogan, iv Cologne +Sthreet station, an' iv Mrs. Willum Sarsfield Cassidy, nee Grogan' +(which manes that was her name befure she marrid Cassidy, who wurruks +down be Haley's packin'-house). 'Fun'ral be carriages fr'm his late +risidence to Calv'ry cimithry. Virginia City, Nivada; St. Joseph, +Mitchigan; an' Clonmel Tipp'rary pa-apers please copy.' + +"I didn't see e'er a nee about th' fam'ly iv th' little man back iv +th' dumps, though maybe he had wan to set aroun' th' fire in th' dark +an' start at th' tap iv a heel on th' dure-step. Mebbe he had a +fam'ly, poor things. A fun'ral is great la-arks f'r th' neighbors, an' +'tis not so bad f'r th' corpse. But in these times, Jawn dear, a-ho +th' gray hearts left behind an' th' hungry mouths to feed. They done +th' best they cud f'r th' Connock man back iv th' dumps,--give him all +th' honors, th' A-ho-aitches ma-archin' behind th' hearse an' th' band +playin' th' Dead March, 'Twas almost as good a turnout as Grogan had, +though th' Saint Vincents had betther hats an' looked more like their +fam'lies kept a cow. + +"But they was two hacks back iv th' pall-bearers. I wondhered what was +passin' behind th' faces I seen again their windys. 'Twas well f'r +himself, too. Little odds to him, afther th' last screw was twisted be +Gavin's ol' yellow hands, whether beef was wan cint or a hundherd +dollars th' pound. But there's comin' home as well as goin' out. +There's more to a fun'ral thin th' lucks parpitua, an' th' clod iv +sullen earth on th' top iv th' crate. Sare a pax vobiscum is there f'r +thim that's huddled in th' ol' hack, sthragglin' home in th' dust to +th' empty panthry an' th' fireless grate. + +"Mind ye, Jawn, I've no wurrud to say again thim that sets back in +their own house an' lot an' makes th' food iv th' people dear. They're +good men, good men. Whin they tilt th' price iv beef to where wan +pound iv it costs as much as manny th' man in this Ar-rchey Road 'd +wurruk fr'm th' risin' to th' settin' iv th' sun to get, they have no +thought iv th' likes iv you an' me. 'Tis aisy come, aisy go with thim; +an' ivry cint a pound manes a new art musoom or a new church, to take +th' edge off hunger. They're all right, thim la-ads, with their own +pork-chops delivered free at th' door. 'Tis, 'Will ye have a new +spring dhress, me dear? Willum, ring thim up, an' tell thim to hist +th' price iv beef. If we had a few more pitchers an' statoos in th' +musoom, 'twud ilivate th' people a sthory or two. Willum, afther this +steak 'll be twinty cints a pound.' Oh, they're all right, on'y I was +thinkin' iv th' Connock man's fam'ly back iv th' dumps." + +"For a man that was gay a little while ago, it looks to me as if you'd +grown mighty solemn-like," said Mr. McKenna. + +"Mebbe so," said Mr. Dooley. "Mebbe so. What th' 'ell, annyhow. Mebbe +'tis as bad to take champagne out iv wan man's mouth as round steak +out iv another's. Lent is near over. I seen Doherty out shinin' up his +pipe that's been behind th' clock since Ash Winsdah. Th' girls 'll be +layin' lilies on th' altar in a day or two. Th' spring's come on. Th' +grass is growin' good; an', if th' Connock man's children back iv th' +dumps can't get meat, they can eat hay." + + + +A BRAND FROM THE BURNING. + + +"I see be th' pa-apers," said Mr. Dooley, "that Boss have flew th' +coop. 'Tis too bad, too bad. He wa-as a gr-reat man." + +"Is he dead?" asked Mr. McKenna. + +"No, faith, worse thin that; he's resigned. He calls th' la-ads about +him, an' says he: 'Boys,' he says, 'I'm tired iv politics,' he says. +'I'm goin' to quit it f'r me health,' he says. 'Do ye stay in, an' get +ar-rested f'r th' good iv th' party.' Ye see thim mugwumps is afther +th' Boss, an' he's gettin' out th' way Hogan got out iv Connock. Wan +day he comes over to me fa-ather's house, an' says he, 'Dooley,' he +says, 'I'm goin' to lave this hole iv a place,' he says. 'F'r why?' +says th' ol' man; 'I thought ye liked it.' 'Faith,' says Hogan, 'I +niver liked a blade iv grass in it,' he says. 'I'm sick iv it,' he +says. 'I don't want niver to see it no more.' And he wint away. Th' +next mornin' th' polis was lookin' f'r him to lock him up f'r stealin' +joo'lry in the fair town. Yes, by dad. + +"'Tis th' way iv th' boss, Jawn. I seen it manny's th' time. There +was wanst a boss in th' Sixth Wa-ard, an' his name was Flannagan; an' +he came fr'm th' County Clare, but so near th' bordher line that no +wan challenged his vote, an' he was let walk down Ar-rchey Road just's +though he come fr'm Connock. Well, sir, whin I see him first, he'd th' +smell iv Castle Garden on him, an' th' same is no mignonette, d'ye +mind; an' he was goin' out with pick an' shovel f'r to dig in th' +canal,--a big, shtrappin', black-haired lad, with a neck like a bull's +an' covered with a hide as thick as wan's, fr'm thryin' to get a crop +iv oats out iv a Clare farm that growed divvle th' thing but nice, big +boldhers. + +"He was de-termined, though, an' th' first man that made a face at him +he walloped in th' jaw; an' he'd been on th' canal no more thin a month +before he licked ivry man in th' gang but th' section boss, who'd been +a Dublin jackeen, an' weighed sixteen stone an' was great with a thrip +an' a punch. Wan day they had some wurruds, whin me bold Dublin man +sails into Flannagan. Well, sir, they fought fr'm wan o'clock till tin +in th' night, an' nayther give up; though Flannagan had th' best iv +it, bein' young. 'Why don't ye put him out?' says wan iv th' la-ads. +'Whisht,' says Flannagan. 'I'm waitin' f'r th' moon to come up,' he +says, 'so's I can hit him right,' he says, 'an' scientific.' Well, +sir, his tone was that fierce th' section boss he dhropped right there +iv sheer fright; an' Flannagan was cock iv th' walk. + +"Afther a while he begun f'r to go out among th' other gangs, lookin' +f'r fight; an', whin th' year was over, he was knowed fr'm wan end iv +th' canal to th' other as th' man that no wan cud stand befure. He got +so pop'lar fr'm lickin' all his frinds that he opened up a liquor +store beyant th' bridge, an' wan night he shot some la-ads fr'm th' +ya-ards that come over f'r to r-run him. That made him sthronger still. +When they got up a prize f'r th' most pop'lar man in th' parish, he +loaded th' ballot box an' got th' goold-headed stick, though he was +r-runnin' against th' aldherman, an' th' little soggarth thried his +best to down him. Thin he give a cock fight in th' liquor shop, an' +that atthracted a gang iv bad men; an' he licked thim wan afther +another, an' made thim his frinds. An' wan day lo an' behold, whin th' +aldherman thried f'r to carry th' prim'ries that 'd niver failed him +befure, Flannagan wint down with his gang an' illicted his own +dilligate ticket, an' thrun th' aldherman up in th' air! + +"Thin he was a boss, an' f'r five years he r-run th' ward. He niver +wint to th' council, d'ye mind; but, whin he was gin'rous, he give th' +aldhermen tin per cint iv what they made. In a convintion, whin anny +iv th' candydates passed roun' th' money, 'twas wan thousand dollars +f'r Flannagan an' have a nice see-gar with me f'r th' rest iv thim. +Wan year fr'm th' day he done th' aldherman he sold th' liquor shop. +Thin he built a brick house in th' place iv th' little frame wan he +had befure, an' moved in a pianny f'r his daughter. 'Twas about this +time he got a dimon as big as ye'er fist, an' begun to dhrive down +town behind a fast horse. No wan knowed what he done, but his wife +said he was in th' r-rale estate business. D'ye mind, Jawn, that th' +r-rale estate business includes near ivrything fr'm vagrancy to +manslaughter? + +"Whativer it was he done, he had money to bur-rn; an' th' little +soggarth that wanst despised him, but had a hard time payin' th' debt +iv th' church, was glad enough to sit at his table. Wan day without +th' wink iv th' eye he moved up in th' avnoo, an' no wan seen him in +Bridgeport afther that. 'Twas a month or two later whin a lot iv th' +la-ads was thrun into jail f'r a little diviltry they'd done f'r him. +A comity iv th' fathers iv th' la-ads wint to see him. He raceived +thim in a room as big as wan iv their whole houses, with pitchers on +th' walls an' a carpet as deep an' soft as a bog. Th' comity asked him +to get th' la-ads out on bail. + +"'Gintlemen,' he says, 'ye must excuse me,' he says, 'in such +matthers.' 'D'ye mane to say,' says Cassidy, th' plumber, 'that ye +won't do annything f'r my son?' 'Do annything,' says Flannagan. (I'll +say this f'r him: a more darin' man niver drew breath; an', whin his +time come to go sthandin' off th' mob an' defindin' his sthone quarry +in th' rites iv sivinty-sivin, he faced death without a wink.) 'Do?' +he says, risin' an' sthandin' within a fut iv Cassidy's big cane. +'Do?' he says. 'Why,' he says, 'yes,' he says; 'I've subscribed wan +thousand dollars,' he says, 'to th' citizen's comity,' he says, 'f'r +to prosecute him; an',' he says, 'gintlemen,' he says, 'there's th' +dure.' + +"I seen Cassidy that night, an' he was as white as a ghost. 'What ails +ye?' says I. 'Have ye seen th' divvle?' 'Yes,' he says, bendin' his +head over th' bar, an' lookin' sivinty years instead iv forty-five." + + + + +A WINTER NIGHT. + + +Any of the Archey Road cars that got out of the barns at all were +pulled by teams of four horses, and the snow hung over the shoulders +of the drivers' big bearskin coats like the eaves of an old-fashioned +house on the blizzard night. There was hardly a soul in the road from +the red bridge, west, when Mr. McKenna got laboriously off the +platform of his car and made for the sign of somebody's celebrated +Milwaukee beer over Mr. Dooley's tavern. Mr. Dooley, being a man of +sentiment, arranges his drinks to conform with the weather. Now +anybody who knows anything at all knows that a drop of "J.J." and a +whisper (subdued) of hot water and a lump of sugar and lemon peel (if +you care for lemon peel) and nutmeg (if you are a "jood ") is a drink +calculated to tune a man's heart to the song of the wind slapping a +beer-sign upside down and the snow drifting in under the door. Mr. +Dooley was drinking this mixture behind his big stove when Mr. McKenna +came in. + +"Bad night, Jawn," said Mr. Dooley. + +"It is that," said Mr. McKenna. + +"Blowin' an' storming', yes," said Mr. Dooley. "There hasn' been a can +in tonight but wan, an' that was a pop bottle. Is the snow-ploughs +out, I dinnaw?" + +"They are," said Mr. McKenna. + +"I suppose Doherty is dhrivin'," said Mr. Dooley. "He's a good +dhriver. They do say he do be wan iv the best dhrivers on th' road. +I've heerd that th' prisident is dead gawn on him. He's me cousin. Ye +can't tell much about what a man 'll be fr'm what th' kid is. That +there Doherty was th' worst omadhon iv a boy that iver I knowed. He +niver cud larn his a-ah-bee, abs. But see what he made iv himsilf! Th' +best dhriver on th' road; an', by dad, 'tis not twinty to wan he won't +be stharter befure he dies. 'Tis in th' fam'ly to make their names. +There niver was anny fam'ly in th' ol' counthry that turned out more +priests than th' Dooleys. By gar, I believe we hol' th' champeenship +iv th' wurruld. At M'nooth th' profissor that called th' roll got so +fr'm namin' th' Dooley la-ads that he came near bein' tur-rned down on +th' cha-arge that he was whistlin' at vespers. His mouth, d'ye mind, +took that there shape fr'm sayin' 'Dooley,' 'Dooley,' that he'd looked +as if he was whistlin'. D'ye mind? Dear, oh dear, 'tis th' divvle's +own fam'ly f'r religion." + +Mr. McKenna was about to make a jeering remark to the effect that the +alleged piety of the Dooley family had not penetrated to the Archey +Road representative, when a person, evidently of wayfaring habits, +entered and asked for alms. Mr. Dooley arose, and, picking a +half-dollar from the till, handed it to the visitor with great +unconcern. The departure of the wayfarer with profuse thanks was +followed by a space of silence. + +"Well, Jawn," said Mr. Dooley. + +"What did you give the hobo?" asked Mr. McKenna. + +"Half a dollar," said Mr. Dooley. + +"And what for?" + +"Binivolence," said Mr. Dooley, with a seraphic smile. + +"Well," said Mr. McKenna, "I should say that was benevolence." + +"Well," said Mr. Dooley, "'tis a bad night out, an' th' poor divvle +looked that miserable it brought th' tears to me eyes, an'"-- + +"But," said Mr. McKenna, "that ain't any reason why you should give +half a dollar to every tramp who comes in." + +"Jawn," said Mr. Dooley, "I know th' ma-an. He spinds all his money at +Schneider's, down th' block." + +"What of that?" asked Mr. McKenna. + +"Oh, nawthin'," said Mr. Dooley, "on'y I hope Herman won't thry to +bite that there coin. If he does"-- + + + + +THE BLUE AND THE GRAY. + + +"A-ho," said Mr. Dooley, "th' blue an' th' gray, th' blue an' th' +gray. Well, sir, Jawn, d'ye know that I see Mulligan marchin' ahead +with his soord on his side, an' his horse dancin' an' backin' into th' +crowd; an' th' la-ads chowlder arms an' march, march away. Ye shud 've +been there. Th' women come down fr'm th' pee-raries with th' childher +in their arms, an' 'twas like a sind-off to a picnic. 'Good-by, Mike.' +'Timothy, darlin', don't forget your prayers.' 'Cornalius, if ye do +but look out f'r th' little wans, th' big wans 'll not harm ye.' +'Teddy, lad, always wear ye'er Agnus Day.' An', whin th' time come f'r +th' thrain to lave, th' girls was up to th' lines; an' 'twas, 'Mike, +love, ye'll come back alive, won't ye?' an' 'Pat, there does be a pair +iv yarn socks in th' hoomp on ye'er back. Wear thim, lad. They'll be +good f'r ye'er poor, dear feet.' An' off they wint. + +"Well, some come back, an' some did not come back. An' some come back +with no rale feet f'r to put yarn socks on thim. Mulligan quit down +somewhere in Kentucky; an' th' las' wurruds he was heard to utter was, +'Lay me down, boys, an' save th' flag.' An there was manny th' other +that had nawthin' to say but to call f'r a docthor; f'r 'tis on'y, +d'ye mind, th' heroes that has somethin' writ down on typewriter f'r +to sind to th' newspapers whin they move up. Th' other lads that dies +because they cudden't r-run away,--not because they wudden't,--they +dies on their backs, an' calls f'r th' docthor or th' priest. It +depinds where they're shot. + +"But, annyhow, no wan iv thim lads come back to holler because he was +in th' war or to war again th' men that shot him. They wint to wurruk, +carryin' th' hod 'r shovellin' cindhers at th' rollin' mills. Some iv +thim took pinsions because they needed thim; but divvle th' wan iv +thim ye'll see paradin' up an' down Ar-rchey Road with a blue coat on, +wantin' to fight th' war over with Schwartzmeister's bar-tinder that +niver heerd iv but wan war, an' that th' rites iv sivinty-sivin. Sare +a wan. No, faith. They'd as lave decorate a confeatherate's grave as a +thrue pathrite's. All they want is a chanst to go out to th' cimitry; +an', faith, who doesn't enjoy that? No wan that's annything iv a +spoort. + +"I know hundherds iv thim. Ye know Pat Doherty, th' little man that +lives over be Grove Sthreet. He inlisted three times, by dad, an' had +to stand on his toes three times to pass. He was that ager. Well, he +looks to weigh about wan hundherd an' twinty pounds; an' he weighs wan +fifty be raison iv him havin' enough lead to stock a plumber in his +stomach an' his legs. He showed himsilf wanst whin he was feelin' gay. +He looks like a sponge. But he ain't. He come in here Thursdah night +to take his dhrink in quite; an' says I, 'Did ye march to-day?' +'Faith, no,' he says, 'I can get hot enough runnin' a wheelbarrow +without makin' a monkey iv mesilf dancin' around th' sthreets behind a +band.' 'But didn't ye go out to decorate th' graves?' says I. 'I +hadn't th' price,' says he, 'Th' women wint out with a gyranium to put +over Sarsfield, the first born,' he says. + +"Just thin Morgan O'Toole come in, an' laned over th' ba-ar. He's been +a dillygate to ivry town convention iv th' Raypublicans since I dinnaw +whin. 'Well,' says he, 'I see they're pilin' it on,' he says. 'On th' +dead?' says I, be way iv a joke. 'No,' he says; 'but did ye see +they're puttin' up a monnymint over th' rebils out here be Oakwoods?' +he says. 'By gar,' he says, ''tis a disgrace to th' mim'ries iv thim +devoted dead who died f'r their counthry,' he says. 'If,' he says, 'I +cud get ninety-nine men to go out an' blow it up, I'd be th' +hundherth,' he says. 'Yes,' says I, 'ye wud,' I says. 'Ye'd be th' +last,' I says. + +"Doherty was movin' up to him. 'What rig'mint?' says he. 'What's +that?' says O'Toole. 'Did ye inlist in th' army, brave man?' says Pat. +'I swore him over age,' says I. 'Was ye dhrafted in?' says th' little +man. 'No,' says O'Toole. 'Him an' me was in th' same cellar,' says I. +'Did ye iver hear iv Ree-saca, 'r Vicksburg, 'r Lookout Mountain?' th' +little man wint on. 'Did anny man iver shoot at ye with annything but +a siltzer bottle? Did ye iver have to lay on ye'er stummick with ye'er +nose burrid in th' Lord knows what while things was whistlin' over ye +that, if they iver stopped whistlin', 'd make ye'er backbone look like +a broom? Did ye iver see a man that ye'd slept with th' night before +cough, an' go out with his hands ahead iv his face? Did ye iver have +to wipe ye'er most intimate frinds off ye'er clothes, whin ye wint +home at night? Where was he durin' th' war?' he says. 'He was +dhrivin' a grocery wagon f'r Philip Reidy,' says I. 'An' what's he +makin' th' roar about?' says th' little man. 'He don't want anny wan +to get onto him,' says I. + +"O'Toole was gone be this time, an' th' little man laned over th' bar. +'Now,' says he, 'what d'ye think iv a gazabo that don't want a +monniment put over some wan? Where is this here pole? I think I'll +go out an' take a look at it. Where 'd ye say th' la-ad come fr'm? +Donaldson? I was there. There was a man in our mess--a Wicklow man be +th' name iv Dwyer--that had th' best come-all-ye I iver heerd. It wint +like this,' an' he give it to me." + + + + +THE TRAGEDY OF THE AGITATOR. + + +"Whin ye come up, did ye see Dorgan?" asked Mr. Dooley. + +"Which Dorgan?" asked Mr. McKenna. + +"Why, to be sure, Hugh O'Neill Dorgan, him that was sicrety iv Deerin' +Shtreet branch number wan hundred an' eight iv th' Ancient Ordher iv +Scow Unloaders, him that has th' red lambrequin on his throat, that +married th' second time to Dinnihy's aunt an' we give a shivaree to +him. Hivins on earth, don't ye know him?" + +"I don't," said Mr. McKenna; "and, if I know him, I haven't seen him." + +"Thin ye missed a sight," said Mr. Dooley. "He's ragin' an' tearin'. +He have been a great union man. He'd sthrike on th' moment's +provocation. I seen him wanst, whin some scow unloaders sthruck in +Lemont or some other distant place, put on his coat, lay down his +shovel, an' go out, be hivins, alone. Well, his son goes an' jines th' +Sivinth Rig'mint; an', by gar, th' ol' man, not knowin' about th' +army, he's that proud that he sthruts up an' down th' sthreet with his +thumb in th' vest iv him an' give his son a new shovel, for they was +wurrukin' together on th' scow 'Odelia Ann.' Well, whin th' sthrike +come along, iv coorse th' scow unloaders quits; an' Dorgan an' th' +la-ad goes out together, because they're dhrawin' good wages an' th' +crick do be full iv men r-ready f'r to take their places. + +"Well, Dorgan had th' divvle's own time paradin' up an' down an' +sindin' out ordhers to sthrike to ivry man he knowed of till th' la-ad +comes over las' Choosdah avenin', dhressed in his rigimintals with a +gun as long as a clothes-pole over his shoulder. 'Hughey,' said th' +father, 'you look very gran' to-night,' he says. 'Whose fun'ral ar-re +ye goin' to at this hour?' 'None but thim I makes mesilf,' says he. +'What d'ye mean?' says th' ol' man. 'I'm goin' over f'r to stand guard +in th' thracks,' says th' la-ad. Well, with that th' ol' man leaps up. +'Polisman,' he says. 'Polisman,' he says. 'Copper,' he says. 'Twas +on'y be Mrs. Dorgan comin' in an' quitein' th' ol' man with a chair +that hostilities was averted--as th' pa-apers says--right there an' +thin. + +"Well, sir, will ye believe me, whin Dorgan wint over with th' mimbers +iv' th' union that night f'r to bur-rn something, there was me brave +Hughey thrampin' up an' down like a polisman on bate. Dorgan goes up +an' shakes his fist at him, an' th' la-ad gives him a jab with his +bayonet that makes th' poor ol' man roar like a bull. 'In th' name iv +th' people iv th' State iv Illinys,' he says, 'disperse,' he says, 'ye +riter,' he says; 'an', if ye don't go home,' he says, 'ye ol' +omadhon,' he says, 'I'll have ye thrun into jail,' he says. + +"Dorgan haven't got over it yet. It dhruv him to a sick-bed." + + + + +BOYNE WATER AND BAD BLOOD. + + +"Jawn," said Mr. Dooley to Mr. McKenna, "what did th' Orangeys do +to-day?" + +"They had a procession," said Mr. McKenna. + +"Was it much, I dinnaw?" + +"Not much." + +"That's good," said Mr. Dooley. "That's good. They don't seem to be +gettin' anny sthronger, praise be! Divvle th' sthraw do I care f'r +thim. They niver harmed hair nor head iv me; an' they ain't likely to, +ayether, so long as th' R-road keeps th' way it is. Faith, 'twud be a +fine pot iv porridge th' like iv thim 'd ate if they come up into +Ar-rchey Road. I'm an ol' man, Jawn,--though not so ol' at that,--but +I'd give tin years iv me life to see an Orange procession west on +Ar-rchey Road with th' right flank restin' on Halsthed Sthreet. It 'd +rest there. Th' Lord knows it wud. + +"Jawn, I have no dislike to th' Orangeys. Nawthin' again thim. I'd not +raise me hand to thim, I wud not, though me cousin Tim was kilt be wan +iv thim dhroppin' a bolt on his skull in th' ship-yards in Belfast. +'Twas lucky f'r that there Orangey he spoke first. Me cousin Tim had a +ship-ax in his hand that'd 've evened things up f'r at laste wan iv +th' poor pikemen that Sarsfield had along with him. But I've nawthin' +again thim at that but th' wan that kilt Tim. I'd like to meet that +lad in some quite place like th' Clan-na-Gael picnic on th' fifteenth +iv August, some place where we'd have fair play. + +"Jawn, live an' let live is me motto. On'y I say this here, that 'tis +a black disgrace to Chicago f'r to let th' likes iv thim thrapze about +th' sthreets with their cheap ol' flags an' ribbons. Oh dear, oh dear, +if Pathrick's Day on'y come some year on' th' twelfth day iv July! +Where 'd they be, where 'd they be? + +"D'ye know things is goin' to th' dogs in this town, Jawn, avick? Sure +they are, faith. I mind th' time well whin an Orangey 'd as lave go +through hell in a celluloid suit as march in this here town on the +twelfth iv July. I raymimber wanst they was a man be th' name iv +Morgan Dempsey,--a first cousin iv thim Dempseys that lives in Cologne +Sthreet,--an' he was a Roscommon man, too, an' wan iv th' cutest +divvles that iver breathed th' breath iv life. + +"Well, whin th' day come f'r th' Orangeys to cillybrate th' time whin +King Willum--may th' divvle hould him!--got a stand-off,--an' 'twas no +betther, Jawn, f'r th' Irish'd 've skinned him alive if th' poor ol' +gaby iv an English king hadn't ducked--What's that? Don't I know it? I +have a book at home written be an impartial historyan, Pathrick Clancy +Duffy, to prove it. What was I sayin'? Whin' th' twelfth day iv July +come around an' th' Orangeys got ready to cillybrate th' day King +Willum, with all his Gatlin' guns an' cannon, just barely sthud off +Sarsfield an' his men that had on'y pikes an' brickbats an' billyard +cues, th' good people was infuryated. I dinnaw who was th' mayor in +thim days. He was niver ilicted again. But, annyhow, he give it out +that th' Orangeys' procission must not be hurted. An' all th' +newspapers asked th' good people to be quite, an' it was announced at +high mass an' low mass that annywan that sthruck a blow 'd be +excommunicated. + +"Well, ye know how it is whin modheration is counselled, Jawn. +Modheration is another name f'r murdheration. So they put two platoons +iv polismen in front iv th' Orangeys an' three behind, an' a double +column alongside; an' away they wint. + +"No wan intherfered with thim; an' that didn't plaze Morgan Dempsey, +who 'd served his time a calker in a ship-yard. Bein' iv a injaneyous +disposition, he made up his mind f'r to do something to show that +pathrietism wasn't dead in this counthry. So he got up in a hallway in +Washington Sthreet, an' waited. Th' procission come with th' polismen +in front an' behind an' along th' sides, an' th' German Band, thryin' +to keep wan eye on the house-tops on both sides iv th' sthreet, an' to +read th' music iv c Lillibullero' an' 'Croppies lie down' an' 'Boyne +Wather' with th' other. Th' Orangeys didn't look up. They kept their +eyes pointed sthraight ahead, I'll say that f'r thim. They're +murdherin' vilyans; but they're Irish, iv a sort. + +"Whin they come by Dempsey, he pokes his head out iv th' dure; an' +says he, 'Th' 'ell with all th' Prowtestant bishops.' Now that same +over in Derry 'd have had all th' tilin's in town flyin'; but th' +Orangeys 'd been warned not to fight, an' they wint sthraight on, on'y +they sung 'Lillibullero.' Did ye niver hear it? It goes _(singing)_ +'Ho! Brother Teigue, dost hear in th' degree?' + +"Th' Lord f'rgive me f'r singin' it, Jawn. See if there's anny wan +near th' dure. + +"Well, whin they got through, Dempsey puts his hands to his mouth, an' +yells, 'Th' 'ell with King Willum.' That was more thin th' Orangeys +cud stand. They halted as wan man, an' roared out, 'Th' 'ell with th' +pope.' 'What's that?' says th' captain iv th' polis foorce. He was a +man be th' name of Murphy, an' he was blue with rage f'r havin' to +lead th' Orangeys. 'Ma-arch on, Brass Money,' says th' Orange marshal. +Murphy pulled him fr'm his horse; an' they wint at it, club an' club. +Be that time th' whole iv th' line was ingaged. Ivry copper belted an +Orangey; an' a sergeant named Donahue wint through a whole lodge, +armed on'y, Jawn, with a clarinet an' wan cymbal. He did so. An' +Morgan Dempsey, th' cute divvle, he sthood by, an' encouraged both +sides. F'r, next to an Orangey, he likes to see a polisman kilt. That +ended wan Orangey parade. + +"Not that I think it was right. I suppose they ought to be left walk +about, an' I'm a fair man. If th' blackest iv thim wint by now, I'd +not raise me hand"-- + +"Hello," says Mr. McKenna, "here goes Killen, the Armagh man. They say +he digs with his left foot." + +"Jawn," said Mr. Dooley, eagerly, "if ye run up on th' roof, ye'll +find th' bricks loose in th' top row iv th' chimbley. Ye might hand +him a few." + + + + +THE FREEDOM PICNIC. + + +"There's wan thing about th' Irish iv this town," said Mr. Dooley. + +"The police?" said Mr. McKenna. + +"No," said the philosopher. "But they give picnics that does bate all. +Be hivins, if Ireland cud be freed be a picnic, it 'd not on'y be free +to-day, but an impire, begorra, with Tim Haley, th' Banthry man, +evictin' Lord Salisbury fr'm his houldin'. 'Twud that. + +"Jawn, th' la-ads have got th' thrick iv freein' Ireland down to a +sinsible basis. In th' ol' days they wint over with dinnymite bumbs in +their pockets, an' ayether got their rowlers on thim in Cork an' blew +thimsilves up or was arristed in Queenstown f'r disordherly conduct. +'Twas a divvle iv a risky job to be a pathrite in thim days, an' none +but those that had no wan dipindint on thim cud affoord it. But what +was th' use? Ireland wint on bein' th' same opprissed green oil it had +always been, an' th' on'y difference th' rivolutions made was ye sa-aw +new faces on th' bridges an' th' Wolfe Tones passed another set iv +resolutions. + +"'Tis different now. Whin we wants to smash th' Sassenach an' restore +th' land iv th' birth iv some iv us to her thrue place among th' +nations, we gives a picnic. 'Tis a dam sight asier thin goin' over +with a slug iv joynt powder an' blowin' up a polis station with no wan +in it. It costs less; an', whin 'tis done, a man can lep aboord a +sthreet ca-ar, an' come to his family an' sleep it off. + +"I wint out last Choosdah, an' I suppose I must 've freed as much as +eight counties in Ireland. All th' la-ads was there. Th' first ma-an I +see was Dorgan, the sanyor guarjeen in the Wolfe Tone Lithry Society. +He's th' la-ad that have made th' Prince iv Wales thrimble in his +moccasins. I heerd him wanst makin' a speech that near injooced me to +take a bumb in me hand an' blow up Westminsther Cathedral. 'A-re ye,' +he says, 'men, or a-re ye slaves?' he says. 'Will ye,' he says, 'set +idly by,' he says, 'while th' Sassenach,' he says, 'has th' counthry +iv Immitt an' O'Connell,' he says, 'an' Jawn Im Smyth,' he says, +'undher his heel?' he says. 'Arouse,' he says, 'slaves an' despots!' +he says. 'Clear th' way!' he says. 'Cowards an' thraitors!' he says. +'Faugh-a-ballagh!' he says. He had th' beer privilege at th' picnic, +Jawn. + +"Hinnissy, th' plumber, who blew wan iv his fingers off with a bumb +intinded f'r some iv th' archytecture iv Liverpool, had th' conthract +f'r runnin' th' knock-th'-babby-down-an'-get-a-nice-seegar jint. F'r +th' good iv th' cause I knocked th' babby down, Jawn, an' I on'y wish +th' Queen iv England 'r th' Prince iv Wales cud be injooced to smoke +wan iv th' seegars. Ye might as well go again a Roman candle. Th' wan +I got was made iv baled hay, an' 'twas rumored about th' pa-ark that +Hinnissy was wurrukin' off his surplus stock iv bumbs on th' +pathrites. His cousin Darcey had th' shootin' gallery privilege, an' +he done a business th' like iv which was niver knowed be puttin' up +th' figure iv an Irish polisman f'r th' la-ads to shoot at. 'Twas bad +in th' end though, f'r a gang iv Tipp'rary lads come along behind th' +tent an' begun thrown stones at th' copper. Wan stone hit a Limerick +man, an' th' cry 'butthermilk' wint around; an' be hivins, if it +hadn't been that th' chief iv polis, th' wise la-ad, sint none but +German polismen to th' picnic, there 'd not been a man left to tell th' +tale." + +"What's that all got to do with freeing Ireland?" asked Mr. McKenna. + +"Well, 'tis no worse off thin it was befure, annyhow," said Mr. +Dooley. + + + + +THE IDLE APPRENTICE. + + +"They hanged a man to-day," said Mr. Dooley. + +"They did so," said Mr. McKenna. + +"Did he die game?" + +"They say he did." + +"Well, he did," said Mr. Dooley. "I read it all in th' pa-apers. He +died as game as if he was wan iv th' Christyan martyrs instead iv a +thief that 'd hit his man wan crack too much. Saint or murdherer, 'tis +little difference whin death comes up face front. + +"I read th' story iv this man through, Jawn; an', barrin' th' hangin', +'tis th' story iv tin thousan' like him. D'ye raymimber th' Carey kid? +Ye do. Well, I knowed his grandfather; an' a dacinter ol' man niver +wint to his jooty wanst a month. Whin he come over to live down be th' +slip, 'twas as good a place as iver ye see. Th' honest men an' honest +women wint as they pleased, an' laid hands on no wan. His boy Jim was +as straight as th' r-roads in Kildare, but he took to dhrink; an', +whin Jack Carey was born, he was a thramp on th' sthreets an' th' good +woman was wurrukin' down-town, scrubbin' away at th' flures in th' +city hall, where Dennehy got her. + +"Be that time around th' slip was rough-an'-tumble. It was dhrink an' +fight ivry night an' all day Sundah. Th' little la-ads come together +under sidewalks, an' rushed th' can over to Burke's on th' corner an' +listened to what th' big lads tol' thim. Th' first instruction that +Jack Carey had was how to take a man's pocket handkerchief without his +feelin' it, an' th' nex' he had was larnin' how to get over th' fence +iv th' Reform School at Halsted Sthreet in his stockin' feet. + +"He was a thief at tin year, an' th' polis 'd run f'r him if he'd +showed his head. At twelve they sint him to th' bridewell f'r breakin' +into a freight car. He come out, up to anny game. I see him whin he +was a lad hardly to me waist stand on th' roof iv Finucane's Hall an' +throw bricks at th' polisman. + +"He hated th' polis, an' good reason he had f'r it. They pulled him +out iv bed be night to search him. If he turned a corner, they ran him +f'r blocks down th' sthreet. Whin he got older, they begun shootin' at +him; an' it wasn't manny years befure he begun to shoot back. He was +right enough whin he was in here. I cud conthrol him. But manny th' +night whin he had his full iv liquor I've see him go out with his gun +in his outside pocket; an' thin I'd hear shot after shot down th' +sthreet, an' I'd know him an' his ol' inimy Clancy 'd met an' was +exchangin' compliments. He put wan man on th' polis pension fund with +a bullet through his thigh. + +"They got him afther a while. He'd kept undher cover f'r months, +livin' in freight cars an' hidin' undher viadocks with th' pistol in +his hand. Wan night he come out, an' broke into Schwartzmeister's +place. He sneaked through th' alley with th' German man's damper in +his arms, an' Clancy leaped on him fr'm th' fence. Th' kid was tough, +but Clancy played fut-ball with th' Finerty's on Sundah, an' was +tougher; an', whin th' men on th' other beats come up, Carey was +hammered so they had to carry him to th' station an' nurse him f'r +trile. + +"He wint over th' road, an' come back gray an' stooped, I was afraid +iv th' boy with his black eyes; an' wan night he see me watchin' him, +an' he says: 'Ye needn't be afraid,' he says. 'I won't hurt ye. Ye're +not Clancy,' he says, + +"I tol' Clancy about it, but he was a brave man; an' says he: ''Tis +wan an' wan, an' a thief again an' honest man. If he gets me, he must +get me quick.' Th' nex' night about dusk he come saunterin' up th' +sthreet, swingin' his club an' jokin with his frind, whin some wan +shouted, 'Look out, Clancy.' He was not quick enough. He died face +forward, with his hands on his belt; an' befure all th' wurruld Jack +Carey come across th' sthreet, an' put another ball in his head. + +"They got him within twinty yards iv me store. He was down in th' +shadow iv th' house, an' they was shootin' at him fr'm roofs an' +behind barns. Whin he see it was all up, he come out with his eyes +closed, firin' straight ahead; an' they filled him so full iv lead he +broke th' hub iv th' pathrol wagon takin' him to th' morgue." + +"It served him right," said Mr. McKenna. + +"Who?" said Mr. Dooley. "Carey or Clancy?" + + + + +THE O'BRIENS FOREVER. + + +"I think, by dad," said Mr. Dooley, "that Hinnissy's crazy." + +"I always thought so," said Mr. McKenna, amiably. "But what's he been +doin' of late?" + +"Well, I took him down to see th' good la-ads havin' fun with th' +opprissors iv th' people at th' Colliseem,' said Mr. Dooley. "I had no +ticket, an' he had none. Th' frinds iv honest money had give thim all +to Jawn P. Hopkins's la-ads. They're frinds iv honest money, whin +they'se no other in sight. But I'd like to see anny goold-bug or +opprissor iv th' people keep th' likes iv me an' Hinnissy out iv a +convintion. We braced up to wan iv th' dures, an' a man stopped +Hinnissy. 'Who ar-re ye?' he says. "I am a Dimmycrat,' says Hinnissy. +'Is ye'er name Hill?' says th' la-ad. 'It is not,' says Hinnissy. 'I +tol' ye I'm a Dimmycrat; an',' he says, 'I'll have no man call me out +iv me name.' Hinnissy was f'r rollin' him on th' flure there an' thin +f'r an insult, but I flagged a polisman. 'Is ye'er name Sullivan?' +says I. 'It is,' says he. 'Roscommon?' says I, fr'm th' way he spoke. +'Sure ye're right,' he says. 'Me name's Dooley,' I says. 'Here,' say +he to th' dure-keeper, 'don't stand in th' way iv th' sinitor iv th' +State iv Mitchigan,' he says. 'Lave him an' his frind go in,' he says. +I minded afther I was good to him whin Simon O'Donnell was chief iv +polis, may he rest in peace! + +"Hinnissy an' me got a seat be some dhroll ol' boys fr'm out in Iaway. +Afther a man be th' name iv Martin, a sergeant-iv-arms, had addhressed +th' meetin' twinty or thirty times,--I kep no count iv him,--th' +chairman inthrojooced th' dillygates to nommynate th' big men. It wint +all right with Hinnissy for a little while till a man got up an' shook +his fist at th' chairman. 'What's that? what's that?' says Hinnissy. +'What's that?' he says. 'Hurroo, hurroo,' he says, lammin' th' man +fr'm Iaway with his goold-headed cane. 'What ails ye, man alive?' says +I. 'Why,' he says, 'they've nommynated Billy,' he says. 'Billy who?' +says I. 'Why, Willum J. O'Brien,' he says. + +"'A sthrong man,' says he, addhressin' th' man fr'm Iaway. 'I shud say +he was,' says th' man. 'Th' sthrongest man that iver come down th' +road,' says Hinnissy. 'Why,' he says, 'I see that man put up an' eight +iv beer with wan hand,' he says, 'holdin' it be th' rim,' he says. +'None sthronger,' he says. 'But will he carry Illinye?' says th' lad +fr'm Iaway. 'Will he carry Illinye?' says Hinnissy. 'Why, man alive,' +he says, 'I've see him carry a prim'ry in th' sixth precint,' he says. +'Is that enough f'r ye?' he says. 'He's a good speaker,' says th' +Iaway man. 'He is that,' says Hinnissy; 'an' he was wan iv th' best +waltzers that flung a foot at th' County Dimocracy picnic,' he says. +'But will he make a good fight?' says th' man. 'Will he?' says +Hinnissy. 'Will he make a good fight?' he says. 'Dooley,' he says, +'this here Dimmycrat wants to know if Bill 'll make a good fight. Why,' +he says, 'if he iver gets to Washington an' wan iv th' opprissors iv +th' people goes again him, give him Jackson Park or a clothes closet, +gun or soord, ice-pick or billyard cue, chair or stove leg, an' +Bill 'll make him climb a tree,' he says. 'I'd like to see wan iv thim +supreme justices again Bill O'Brien on an income tax or anny other +ord-nance,' he says. 'He'd go in an' lame thim with th' Revised +Statutes.' 'I presume,' says th' lad, 'that ye'er fr'm Omaha.' 'I'll +tear ye'er hair out,' says Hinnissy.' + +"'Ye idjit,' says I, whin I had him in th' sthreet, 'it wasn't Bill +O'Brien was nommynated,' says I. 'What ar-re ye talkin' about?' says +he. 'I seen him on th' flure,' he says. 'He had th' sinitor iv +Missoury be th' throat whin ye took me away,' he says. + +"I left him there; but he come into th' place at six o'clock, an' +borrid a paper an' pencil. Thin he wint back, an' sat down an' wrote. +'What ar-re ye doin' there?' says I. 'I've wrote a sketch iv th' +nominee f'r th' Stock-yards Sun,' he says. 'Listen to it. Willum J. +O'Brien,' he says, 'was born in th' County iv Mayo forty years ago,' +he says. 'He received a limited education, his parents even thin +designin' him f'r th' Prisidincy. Bein' unable to complete a coorse at +th' rayform school, he wint to wurruk; but soon, tired iv this, he +started a saloon. Fr'm thince he dhrifted into politics, an' become +noted as th' boy welter-weight iv th' South Branch. He was ilicted +aldherman at a time whin comparatively nawthin' was doin' in th' +council. Subsequent he become a sinitor, an' later enthered into +partnership with th' Hon. Jawn Powers in th' retail liquor traffic. +Mr. O'Brien is a fine built man, an' can lick anny wan iv his age west +iv th' river, give 'r take tin pounds, color no bar. His heart bets up +close to th' ribs iv th' common people, an' he would make opprissors +iv th' poor wish they'd died early if ye give him a chance with a beer +bottle. How's that?' says Hinnissy. + +"'Worse,' says I. 'Foolish man,' says I. 'Don't ye know that it ain't +our Bill that's been nommynated?' I says. 'This is a Nebraska man,' I +says. 'Well,' he says, 'if 'tis Bill O'Brien, he'd win easy. But,' he +says, 'if 'tis not,' he says, ''tis wan iv th' fam'ly,' he says. 'I'll +change this here novel an' make it a sketch iv th' cousin iv th' +candydate,' he says. An' he wint on with his wurruk." + + + + +A CANDIDATE'S PILLORY. + + +"What's this counthry comin' to, annyhow, that a man that's out f'r to +be Prisident has to set up on a high chair an' be questioned on his +record be a lot iv la-ads that hasn't had annything to do since th' +carpetbeatin' season's ended? "said Mr. Dooley. "Ye'd think Big Bill +was r-runnin' f'r chief ex-icutive iv th' Clan-na-Gael. First along +comes a comity iv th' Sons iv Rest. 'Major,' says they, 'we're +insthructed be th' organization to ascertain ye'er views on th' +important, we may say all-important, question iv havin' wire +matthresses put on th' benches in th' parks. Are we,' they says, +'goin' f'r to have to wear lumps on our backs into all eternity,' they +says, 'an' have our slumbers broke be th' hot fut iv th' polisman?' +they says. 'We demand an answer,' they says, 'or, be this an' be that, +we won't do a thing to ye.' Well, maybe Bill has been down to th' +corner playin' a game iv spoil-five with his old frind Coalsack, an' +has paid no attintion to th' Sons iv Rest. 'Well,' he says, +'gintlemen, I'm in favor iv doin' ivrything in reason f'r th' hoboes,' +he says. 'Th' protection iv th' home hobo again th' pauper can trade +iv Europe,' he says, 'has been wan iv th' principal wurruks iv me +life,' he says; an' he gives thim each a hand out, an' bows thim to +th' dure. + +"In comes a dillygation fr'm th' Union iv Amalgamated Pantsmakers; an' +says th' chairman, 'Major,' he says, 'we have a complaint to make +again thim pants iv ye'ers,' he says. 'What's th' matter with th' +pants?' says th' future Prisident. 'I thought they looked all right,' +he says. 'I paid four dollars f'r thim in Bucyrus las' year,' he says. +'They have no union label on thim,' says th' chairman. 'Do you know, +sir,' he says, 'that thim pants riprisints th' oppression iv women an' +childher?' he says. 'D'ye know that ivry thread in thim seams means a +tear an' sigh?' says he. 'D'ye know that ivry time ye put on thim +pants ye take a pair off some down-throdden workman?' he says. 'Glory +be!' says Big Bill: 'is that thrue? Thin what am I to do?' he says in +alarm. 'Do?' says th' chairman. 'Wear pants that riprisints honest +toil fairly compinsated,' he says. 'Wear pants that 'll say to th' +wurruld that Bill McKinley's legs are fair legs;' he says, 'that they +may bow at th' knees, but they niver bow to th' opprissor,' he says; +'that niver did they wrap thimsilves in bags that bore th' curse iv +monno-poly an' greed,' he says. 'An' where can I get thim?' says th' +major, 'Fr'm me,' says th' frind iv labor, pullin' out a tape. 'Will +ye have wan or two hip pockets?' he says. + +"An' so it goes. Ivry day a rayporther comes to th' house with a list +iv questions. 'What are ye'er views on th' issue iv eatin' custard pie +with a sponge? Do ye believe in side-combs? If called upon to veto a +bill f'r all mimbers iv th' Supreme Coort to wear hoop-skirts, wud ye +veto it or wudden't ye? If so, why? If not, why not? If a batted ball +goes out iv th' line afther strikin' th' player's hands, is it fair or +who? Have ye that tired feelin'? What is your opinion iv a hereafther? +Where did you get that hat? If a man has eight dollars an' spends +twelve iv it, what will th' poor man do? An' why an' where an' how +much?' + +"Thin, if he don't answer, ivry wan says he's a thrimmer, an' ought to +be runnin' a sthreet-car an' not thryin' to poke his ondecided face +into th' White House. I mind wanst, whin me frind O'Brien was a +candydate f'r aldherman, a comity iv tax-payers waited on him f'r to +get his views on th' issues iv th' day. Big Casey, th' housemover, was +th' chairman; an' he says, says he, 'Misther O'Brien,' he says, 'we +are desirous,' he says, 'iv larnin' where ye stand on th' tariff, th' +currency question, pensions, an' th' intherstate commerce act,' he +says, with a wave iv his hand. 'Well,' says O'Brien, he says, 'th' +issue on which I'm appealin' to th' free an' intilligent suffrages of +Ar-rchey Road an' th' assistance iv Deerin' Sthreet Station,' he says, +'is whether little Mike Kelly will have th' bridge or not,' he says. +'On that I stand,' he says. 'As f'r th' minor issues,' he says, 'I may +have me opinions on thim an' I may not. Anny information I possess +I'll keep tucked away in this large an' commodjous mind cage, an' not +be dealin' it out to th' likes iv ye, as though I was a comity iv th' +Civic Featheration,' he says. 'Moreover,' he says, 'I'd like to know, +you, Casey, what business have you got comin' roun' to my house and +pryin' into my domestic affairs,' he says. ''Tis th' intherstate +commerce act now, but th' nex' thing 'll be where I got th' pianny,' +he says; 'an', f'r fear ye may not stop where ye are, here goes to +mount ye.' An' he climbed th' big man, an' rolled him. Well, sir will +ye believe me, ivry man on th' comity but wan voted f'r him. Casey was +still in bed iliction day. + +"I met Tom Dorsey afther th' comity called. 'Well,' says I, 'I heerd +ye was up to O'Brien's questionin' him on th' issues iv th' day,' I +says. 'We was,' says he. 'Was his answers satisfacthry?' says I. +'Perfectly so,' he says. 'Whin th' comity left, we were all convinced +that he was th' strongest man that cud be nommynated,' he says." + + + + +THE DAY AFTER THE VICTORY. + + +"Jawn," said Mr. Dooley, "didn't we give it to thim?" + +"Give it to who?" asked Mr. McKenna. + +"To th' Dimmycrats," said Mr. Dooley. + +"Go on," said Mr. McKenna. "You're a Democrat yourself." + +"Me?" said Mr. Dooley, "not on your life. Not in wan hundherd thousand +years. Me a Dimmycrat? I shud say not, Jawn, me buck. I'm the hottest +kind iv a Raypublican, me an' Maloney. I suppose they ain't two such +Raypublicans annywhere. How can anny wan be annything else? Who was it +that saved the Union, Jawn? Who was it? Who are th' frinds iv th' +Irish? Who protecks th' poor wurrukin'man so that he'll have to go on +wurrukin'? We do, Jawn. We Raypublicans, by dad. + +"They ain't a Dimmycrat fr'm wan end iv th' road to th' other. I just +was over makin' a visit on Docherty, an' he'd took down th' picture +iv Jackson an' Cleveland an' put up wan iv Grant an' Lincoln. Willum +Joyce have come out f'r McKinley f'r Prisident, an' th' polisman on +th' beat told me las' night that th' left'nant told him that 'twas +time f'r a change. Th' Dimmycrats had rooned th' counthry with their +free trade an' their foreign policy an' their I dinnaw what, an' 'twas +high time an honest man got a crack at a down-town precinct with a +faro bank or two in it. Th' polisman agreed with him that Cleveland +have raised th' divvle with th' Constitootion; an', by gar, he's +right, too. He's right, Jawn. He have a boy in th' wather office. + +"Ye mind Maloney, th' la-ad with th' game eye? He tends a bridge over +be Goose Island way, but he was down here iliction day. Two weeks +before iliction day he was again Winter. 'He's no good,' he says. +'He's a Boohemian,' he says. 'An' whin they come to ilictin' +Boohemians f'r mayor,' he says, 'I'll go back to me ol' thrade iv +shovellin' mud,' he says. 'Besides,' says he, 'if this here Winter +wint in,' he says, 'ye cudden't stand acrost La Salle Street an' hand +him a peach on a window pole, he'd be that stuck up,' he says. + +"Some wan must 've spoke to him; f'r, whin he come in th' next time, +he says, 'They'se no use talkin',' he says, 'that there Dutchman is +sthrong,' he says. 'I thought he was a Boolgahrian,' says I. 'No,' +says he, 'he's a German man,' says he. 'An' th' Germans is with him to +th' bitther end,' he says. 'D'ye know,' he says, 'I believe he'll give +th' little bald-headed duck a run f'r his money,' he says. 'Thim +Germans stand together,' he says. 'They're th' most clannish people on +earth,' he says. 'I'm goin' over to th' Wolfe Tones to see what th' +la-ads think about it.' Sundah night he come an' give a ca-ard f'r +Winter to ivry man in th' place. 'He'll sweep th' town like a +whirlwind,' he says. 'They can't beat him.' 'Who?' says I. 'Winter, iv +coorse.' 'Is he a nice man?' says I. 'Wan iv th' finest men on earth,' +he says. 'A spoort, too,' he says. 'An' liberal.' + +"He was in here iliction day, an' I had Hinnissy's kid runnin' fr'm +th' station with rayturns. Maloney was talkin' to th' crowd an' buyin' +dhrinks. 'Ye'd be surprised,' says he, 'to know what a nice fellow +this here Winter is,' he says. 'Ye'd niver take him f'r a German,' he +says. 'He have no more accint thin mesilf.' The kid come in, an' says +he, 'Th' loot says tin precincts show Swift have a majority as big as +what th' Raypublicans got las' fall.' 'That's bad,' says I. 'Not at +all,' says Maloney. 'Thim's th' down-town wa-ards,' he says. 'Wait +till ye hear fr'm th' Germans,' he says. Th' nex' booletin said Swift +was gainin', an' had tin thousand majority. 'Niver mind,' says +Maloney. 'Th' Germans 'll wipe that out,' he says. Thin we heerd it +was twinty thousand f'r Swift. 'Glory be,' says Maloney, 'th' Germans +is slow comin' in,' he says. 'Maybe,' says I, 'they forgot to vote,' +says I. 'Maybe they're havin' a schootzenfist,' I says, 'an' are out +killin' clay pigeons instid iv attendin' to business,' I says. Just +thin th' loot come in. 'Well,' says he, ''tis quite a Waterloo,' says +he. 'F'r who?' says I. 'Oh,' he says, 'Swift got it be forty +thousand.' + +"Maloney wiped his face, and took off his hat an' swabbed it inside. +Thin says he: 'D'ye raymimber me meetin' ye down-town a week ago on +Dorney's place, loot?' he says. 'Yes,' says th' loot. 'D'ye mind what +I said thin?' he says, 'I don't call it just now,' says the loot. +'Well, I just come fr'm a meetin' iv th' Swift Marchin' Club, an' I +niver seen so much enthusyasm; an' I says to ye, I says: 'Loot,' I +says, 'Swift 'll bate him aisy,' I says. 'I knew he would fr'm th' +beginnin'. Ye take an' put up a good broad liberal man like George B., +a man that has frinds an' knows how to be a good fellow, an' run him +again a Boohemian gazabo who gives ivry man th' marble heart an' 'd +turn down his own brother, an' anny fool cud tell who 'd win. They'll +be some chance f'r a man with Swift over there; but, if this here +Winter wint in, ye cudden't stand acrost La Salle Sthreet an' hand him +a peach on th' end iv a window pole,' he says. + +"Will he lose his job? Not much, Jawn. That la-ad 'll be swingin' +bridges an' throwin' away th' crust iv his pie whin you an' me are +atin' ha-ard coal. He will that. But what do I care? Machs nix aus, +Jawn; an' that being translated manes, 'What th' 'ell.'" + + + + +A VISIT TO JEKYL ISLAND. + + +"I'd like to been there," said Mr. Dooley. + +"Where's that?" Mr. Hennessy asked. + +"At Shekel Island," said Mr. Dooley, "seein' me frind Mack an' me +frind Tom Reed meetin' be th' sad sea waves. + +"Ye see, Mack was down there with Mark Hanna. He was tired out with +expandin', an' anxiety f'r fear me frind Alger 'd raysign; an' says +Hanna, he says, 'Come down,' he says, 'with me,' he says, 'to Shekel +Island,' he says. ''Tis th' home iv rayfinemint an' riches,' he says, +'where us millyionaires rest fr'm takin' care iv th' counthry,' he +says. 'There in th' shade iv th' coupon threes,' he says, 'we watch +th' sea waves, an' wondher,' he says, 'whin th' goold that's in thim +can be exthracted,' he says. 'They'se nawthin' to break th' silence,' +he says, 'but th' roarin' iv th' ocean,' he says; 'an' that sounds +nat'ral,' he says, 'because 'tis almost like th' sound iv th' stock +exchange,' he says. 'A man,' he says, 'that has th' ticker eye,' he +says, 'or th' coupon thumb,' he says, 'is cured in no time,' he says. +'Come,' he says, 'fly with me,' he says. 'They'se nawthin' to keep ye +here,' he says. 'Ivry wan iv th' cab'net, includin' th' Sicrety iv +War, 'll stick to his place,' he says, 'like a man,' he says. + +"An' Mack wint with him. He was settin' on th' beach in a goold chair, +surrounded be millyionaires, with th' prisident iv a bank fannin' him +an' th' threeasurer iv a dimon' mine poorin' his dhrink; an', though +he was feelin' well, they was something on his mind. 'What ails ye?' +ast Hanna. 'I was thinkin',' says Mack, 'how pleasant 'twud be if me +ol' frind Tom Reed was here,' he says. ''Twud be Paradise if he was +here,' he says, whin, lo an' behold, who shud come acrost th' +dimon'-studded beach, wadin' through th' bank-notes that 'd been +dropped be th' good farmers iv Shekel Island, but Tom Reed. + +"Well, sir, to see th' affection that those two great men showed at +th' encounther 'd dhraw tears fr'm th' eyes iv a hear-rt iv sthone. +'Tom,' says Mack, in faltherin' accints, 'where have ye been? F'r days +an' days I've skinned yon blue horizon f'r anny sign iv ye,' he says. +'An' ye come not,' he says. 'I didn't think I cud miss ye so,' he +says. 'Embrace me,' he says, 'if ye ar-re not ar-rmed,' he says. +'Mack,' says me frind Tom Reed, with tears in his eyes, 'this,' he +says, 'is th' happiest moment iv me life,' he says. 'I cudden't,' he +says, 'I cudden't stay in Wash'nton,' he says, 'with you so far away,' +he says, 'where I cudden't watch ye,' he says. 'Ye're th' on'y man +in th' wurruld I care f'r,' he says, 'but mesilf.' he says. 'An',' he +says, 'I'd fall weepin' on ye'er shoulder this minyit,' he says; 'but +I don't want to be disrayspectful be turnin' me back on Misther +Hanna,' he says. + +"'Well,' says Mack, 'sit down,' he says. 'Rockyfeller,' he says, 'tell +Morgan f'r to fetch up a kag iv sherry wine,' he says. 'Tom,' he +says, 'we've been frinds f'r years,' he says. 'We have,' says Tom. +'We've concealed it fr'm th' vulgar an' pryin' public,' he says; 'but +in our hear-rts we've been frinds, barrin' th' naygur dillygates at +th' convintion,' he says. ''Twas a mere incident,' says Mack. 'We've +been frinds,' he says; 'an' I've always wanted,' he says, 'to do +something f'r ye,' he says. 'Th' time has come,' he says, 'whin I can +realize me wish,' he says. 'I offer ye,' he says, 'th' Prisidincy, to +succeed me,' he says. 'No, no,' he says, 'I'll not be rayfused,' he +says. 'I'm tired iv it,' he says. ''Twas foorced on me be foolish +frinds,' he says; 'but I'm not th' man f'r th' place,' he says. 'I +haven't dhrawn a comfortable breath, not to speak iv salary, since I +wint in,' he says. + +"Th' speaker iv th' house burrid his face in his hands, an' sobs shook +him partly f'r manny minyits. Thin he raised his head, an' says he, +'Mack,' he says, 'I can't take it,' he says. ''Tis most gin'rous iv +ye,' he says, 'but me hear-rt fails me,' he says. 'What is it to be +Prisident?' says he. 'Th' White House,' he says, 'is a prison,' he +says, 'to which a man is condimned,' he says, 'f'r fine wurruk at th' +polls,' he says. 'Th' life iv a Prisident is slavery,' he says. 'If I +was to take th' job,' he says, 'I'd be tortured day an' night,' he +says, 'be th' fear iv assassination,' he says. 'Think,' he says, 'iv +some arnychist shootin' thirteen-inch shells at me,' he says, 'an' +maybe,' he says, 'dentin' me,' he says. 'No,' he says, 'I have a good +job where I am,' he says. 'All I've got to do,' he says, 'is to set up +at th' desk,' he says, 'an' not recall th' names iv th' gintlemen on +th' flure, an' me jooty's done,' he says. 'I thank ye kindly, Willum; +but I cannot accept ye'er gin'rous offer,' he says. 'Go back to th' +cell,' he says, 'an' slave like a convict,' he says. 'I will not rob +me frind,' he says, 'iv such an honor. But,' he says, 'tell me whin ye +thought iv throwin' up th' job, an' lavin' me br-reak into this +hateful prison,' he says. 'About th' year two thousan' an' eight, dear +frind,' says Mack. 'No, no,' says Tom Reed. 'I cannot accept it,' he +says, pressin' Mack's hand. ''Tis too much,' he says, 'an' too long,' +he says. + +"'I lave ye,' he says, 'but I'll call on ye,' he says. 'Take,' he +says, 'this little silver-mounted bottle iv broomo-caffeen,' he says, +'an' think iv me,' he says. 'I will,' says Mack. 'Ar-ren't ye tired iv +ye'er long journey?' he says. 'Wudden't ye like to take a bath in th' +shark pond before ye go?' he says. An' so they backed away fr'm each +other, th' tears rollin' down their cheeks. Frindship, Hinnissy, is a +sacred thing." + +"It is," said Mr. Hennessy, "if they are; but I don't b'lieve wan +wurrud ye tol' me." + +"Well," said Mr. Dooley, "if they ain't both frinds, wan iv thim is. +An', annyhow, I'm glad to know Tom Reed ain't thryin' to break into +jail." + + + + +SLAVIN CONTRA WAGNER. + + +"Ol' man Donahue bought Molly a pianny las' week," Mr. Dooley said in +the course of his conversation with Mr. McKenna. "She'd been takin' +lessons fr'm a Dutchman down th' sthreet, an' they say she can play as +aisy with her hands crossed as she can with wan finger. She's been +whalin' away iver since, an' Donahue is dhrinkin' again. + +"Ye see th' other night some iv th' la-ads wint over f'r to see +whether they cud smash his table in a frindly game iv forty-fives. I +don't know what possessed Donahue. He niver asked his frinds into the +parlor befure. They used to set in th' dining-room; an', whin Mrs. +Donahue coughed at iliven o'clock, they'd toddle out th' side dure +with their hats in their hands. But this here night, whether 'twas +that Donahue had taken on a dhrink or two too much or not, he asked +thim all in th' front room, where Mrs. Donahue was settin' with Molly. +'I've brought me frinds,' he says, 'f'r to hear Molly take a fall out +iv th' music-box,' he says. 'Let me have ye'er hat, Mike,' he says. +'Ye'll not feel it whin ye get out,' he says. + +"At anny other time Mrs. Donahue 'd give him th' marble heart. But they +wasn't a man in th' party that had a pianny to his name, an' she knew +they'd be throuble whin they wint home an' tould about it. ''Tis a +mel-odjious insthrument,' says she. 'I cud sit here be the hour an' +listen to Bootoven and Choochooski,' she says. + +"'What did thim write?' says Cassidy. 'Chunes,' says Donahue, 'chunes: +Molly,' he says, 'fetch 'er th' wallop to make th' gintlemen feel +good,' he says. 'What 'll it be, la-ads?' 'D'ye know "Down be th' +Tan-yard Side"?' says Slavin. 'No,' says Molly. 'It goes like this,' +says Slavin. 'A-ah, din yadden, yooden a-yadden, arrah yadden ay-a.' +'I dinnaw it,' says th' girl. ''Tis a low chune, annyhow,' says Mrs. +Donahue. 'Misther Slavin ividintly thinks he's at a polis picnic,' she +says. 'I'll have no come-all-ye's in this house,' she says. 'Molly, +give us a few ba-ars fr'm Wagner.' 'What Wagner's that?' says +Flannagan. 'No wan ye know,' says Donahue; 'he's a German musician.' +'Thim Germans is hot people f'r music,' says Cassidy. 'I knowed wan +that cud play th' "Wacht am Rhine" on a pair iv cymbals,' he says, +'Whisht!' says Donahue. 'Give th' girl a chanst.' + +"Slavin tol' me about it. He says he niver heerd th' like in his born +days. He says she fetched th' pianny two or three wallops that made +Cassidy jump out iv his chair, an' Cassidy has charge iv th' steam +whistle at th' quarry at that. She wint at it as though she had a +gredge at it. First 'twas wan hand an' thin th' other, thin both +hands, knuckles down; an' it looked, says Slavin, as if she was goin' +to leap into th' middle iv it with both feet, whin Donahue jumps up. +'Hol' on!' he says. 'That's not a rented pianny, ye daft girl,' he +says. 'Why, pap-pah,' says Molly, 'what d'ye mean?' she says. 'That's +Wagner,' she says. ''Tis th' music iv th' future,' she says. 'Yes,' +says Donahue, 'but I don't want me hell on earth. I can wait f'r it,' +he says, 'with th' kind permission iv Mrs. Donahue,' he says. 'Play us +th' "Wicklow Mountaineer,"' he says, 'an' threat th' masheen kindly,' +he says, 'She'll play no "Wicklow Mountaineer,"' says Mrs. Donahue. +'If ye want to hear that kind iv chune, ye can go down to Finucane's +Hall,' she says, 'an' call in Crowley, th' blind piper,' she says. +'Molly,' she says, 'give us wan iv thim Choochooski things,' she said. +'They're so ginteel.' + +"With that Donahue rose up. 'Come on,' says he. 'This is no place f'r +us,' he says. Slavin, with th' politeness iv a man who's gettin' even, +turns at th' dure. I'm sorry I can't remain,' he says. 'I think th' +wurruld an' all iv Choochooski,' he says. 'Me brother used to play his +chunes,' he says,--'me brother Mike, that run th' grip ca-ar,' he +says. 'But there's wan thing missin' fr'm Molly's playing', he says. +'And what may that be?' says Mrs. Donahue. 'An ax,' says Slavin, +backin' out. + +"So Donahue has took to dhrink." + + + + +GRAND OPERA. + + +"Jawn," said Mr. Dooley, "'tis a gr-reat thing to be a polisman. Me +frind Doheny, what used to be at Deerin' Sthreet, have got on th' +crossin' an' they've planted him down be th' Audjitooroom. He was up +here las' week, an' says he, 'Run in, an' look at th' op'ra,' says he. +'Run in, an' take a flash iv it,' he says. ''Tis gr-reat,' he says. So +I takes Duggan, an' we goes down together. + +"Well, Doheny does be gr-reat paper with thim. He was standin' be th' +dure, with white gloves over his hands; an', whin we come, he give th' +office to th' la-ad on th' gate, an' says th' la-ad, 'Sure thing,' he +says. 'Sure thing,' an' in we goes. They was a lot iv Gazoorios there, +some iv thim settin' in seats an' some iv thim in bur-rd cages up +above, an' more standin'. Thim standin' was th' la-ads that Doheny +rushed in. Ye niver see such a lot iv thim,--Cassidy, O'Regan, Hogan, +Mulcahey, Shay, Mullaney, Mullvihill, an' th' eight O'Neills,--all +sint through be Doheny without cridintials. Sure, it looked like a +meetin' iv th' Wolf Tones. It did that. + +"Th' op'ra was on whin we wint in, an' they was whalin' away in +Eyetallian. Duggan listened; an' says he, 'What's the man sayin'?' he +says. 'I dinnaw,' I says. 'He's talkin' Chinese, an',' says I, 'they're +goin' to sind him to th' laundhry,' says I. 'Look,' I says. 'They're +puttin' him in th' clothes-basket,' I says. 'If they do,' says he, +'he'll niver come back,' he says, 'or else he'll have another name,' +he says. 'Let's buy a scoor ca-ard,' says he. So he bought wan, an' +was r-readin' it an' lookin' over th' top iv it at th' women in th' +boxes, an' wondhrin' why some wan didn't tell thim their dhresses was +slippin' down, whin over comes Cassidy, and says he, 'What's th' news +in th' Sixth?' 'Nawthin,' says Duggan. 'Will O'Brien win?' says +Cassidy. 'They can't beat him,' says Duggan. 'I dinnaw,' says Cassidy. +'Come over here, an' I'll tell ye,' says Duggan. Dinny Shay an' Hogan +an' Mullaney jined us, an' we wint an' set on the steps. + +"'Can Winter beat Swift?' says Shay. 'I'd like to know,' says Hogan. +'I don't know who to vote f'r,' he says; 'an' Mike is in th' wather +office,' he says. ''Tis a cinch Hinky 'll win out in th' First,' says +Mullaney. 'He have a sthrong man again him,' says Hogan. 'Gleason have +wan or two lodgin'-houses.' 'Three,' says Shay; 'but Hinkey knows all +th' lodgers,' he says. ''Twas a mane thing th' main guy done with +Callaghan,' says Hogan. 'What's that?' says Shay. 'Thrun him off th' +bridge,' says Hogan, 'because he come fr'm Kerry,' he says. 'I don't +believe wan wurrud iv it,' says Mullaney. 'They're more Kerry men on +bridges thin anny other counties,' he says. 'What has bet Hopkins,' he +says, 'is his frindship fr'm th' Mayo men,' he says. 'Th' Mayo men is +great f'r carryin' prim'ries, afther they're over,' he says. 'But did +anny wan iver hear iv thim doin' anny good whin th' votes was bein' +cast?' 'I knowed wan that did,' says Cassidy, as black as ye'er boot. +'His name was Cassidy,' he says; 'an' he done some good,' he says, 'be +privintin' a man be th' name iv Mullaney,' he says, 'fr'm bein' a +dilligate.' 'Ye had th' polis with ye,' says Mullaney. 'Ye was +supported be th' fire departmint,' says Cassidy. + +"'Let's change th' subject,' says Duggan, 'What show has Dorsey got in +th' Twinty-ninth? 'None at all,' says wan iv th' O'Neills who 'd come +over. 'He have th' Civic Featheration again him.' 'Who cares f'r th' +Civic Featheration?' says Mulcahey. 'They don't vote,' he says. +'What 'll kill Dorsey,' he says, 'is his bein' an Apee-a.' 'He's no +Apee-a,' says Mike O'Neill. 'I wint to th' Brothers' school with him,' +he says. 'Whiniver a man comes up that can't be downed anny way, he's +called an Apee-a,' he says. 'He's no more an Apee-a thin ye are,' he +says. 'D'ye mean to call me that?' says Mulcahey. 'Come out, an' have +a dhrink,' I says; an' we wint down. + +"Well, Jawn, we had wan iv th' liveliest political argumints ye iver +see without so much as a blow bein' sthruck. Evenly matched, d'ye +mind, with a chair f'r ivry man. An' th' bar-tinder was a frind iv +mine. I knowed him whin he was with Schwartzmeister. A good la-ad,--a +good lad." + +"But what about th' opera?" asked Mr. McKenna. + +"Th' op'ra wus gr-reat," said Mr. Dooley; "but I think Mulcahey was +right. Dorsey can't win." + + + + +THE CHURCH FAIR. + + +"Wanst I knew a man," said Mr. Dooley, laying down his newspaper, "be +th' name iv Burke, that come fr'm somewhere around Derry, though he +was no Presbyteryan. He was iv th' right sort. Well, he was feelin' +how-come-ye-so, an' he dhrifted over to where we was holdin' a fair. +They was a band outside, an' he thought it was a grand openin'. So he +come in with a cigar in th' side iv his mouth an' his hat hangin' onto +his ear. It was th' last night iv th' fair, an' ivrything was wide +open; f'r th' priest had gone home, an' we wanted f'r to break th' +record. This Burke was f'r lavin' whin he see where he was; but we run +him again th' shootin' gallery, where ye got twinty-five cints, a +quarther iv a dollar, f'r ivry time ye rang th' bell. Th' ol' gun we +had was crooked as a ram's horn, but it must 've fitted into Burke's +squint; f'r he made that there bell ring as if he was a conducthor iv +a grip-car roundin' a curve. He had th' shootin' gallery on its last +legs whin we run him again th' wheel iv fortune. He broke it. Thin we +thried him on th' grab-bag. They was four goold watches an' anny +quantity iv brickbats an' chunks iv coal in th' bag. He had four +dives, an' got a watch each time. He took a chanst on ivrything; an' +he won a foldin'-bed, a doll that cud talk like an old gate, a pianny, +a lamp-shade, a Life iv St. Aloysius, a pair iv shoes, a baseball bat, +an ice-cream freezer, an' th' pomes iv Mike Scanlan. + +"Th' comity was disthracted. Here was a man that 'd break th' fair, +an' do it with th' best iv humor; f'r he come fr'm another parish. So +we held a private session. 'What 'll we do?' says Dorgan, th' chairman. +They was a man be th' name iv Flaherty, a good man thin an' a betther +now; f'r he's dead, may he rest in peace! An' Flaherty says: 'We've +got to take th' bull be th' horns,' he says. 'If ye lave him to me,' +he says, 'I'll fix him,' he says. + +"So he injooced this man Burke to come down back iv th' shootin' +gallery, an' says he to Burke, 'Ye're lucky to-night.' 'Not so very,' +says Burke. ''Twud be a shame to lave ye get away with all ye won,' +says Flaherty. ''Twill be a great inconvanience,' says Burke. 'I'll +have to hire two or three dhrays,' he says; 'an' 'tis late.' 'Well,' +says Flaherty, 'I'm appinted be th' parish to cut th' ca-ards with +ye,' he says, 'whether ye're to give back what ye won or take what's +left.' ''Tis fair,' says Burke; 'an', whoiver wins, 'tis f'r a good +cause.' An' he puts th' watches an' th' money on th' table. + +"'High man,' says Flaherty. 'High man,' says Burke. Flaherty cut th' +king iv spades. Burke, th' robber, cut th' ace iv hearts. He was +reachin' out f'r th' money, whin Flaherty put his hands over it. 'Wud +ye take it?' says he. 'I wud,' says Burke. 'Wud ye rob th' church?' +says Flaherty. 'I wud,' says Burke. 'Thin,' says Flaherty, scoopin' it +in, 'ye're a heretic; an' they'se nawthin' comin' to ye.' + +"Burke looked at him, an' he looked at th' comity; an' he says, +'Gintlemen, if iver ye come over in th' Sixth Ward, dhrop in an' see +me,' he says. 'I'll thry an' make it plisint f'r ye,' he says. An' he +wint away. + +"Th' story got out, an' th' good man heerd iv it. He was mighty mad +about it; an' th' nex' sermon he preached was on th' evils iv +gamblin', but he asked Flaherty f'r to take up th' colliction." + + + + +THE WANDERERS. + + +"Poor la-ads, poor la-ads," said Mr. Dooley, putting aside his +newspaper and rubbing his glasses. "'Tis a hard lot theirs, thim that +go down into th' sea in ships, as Shakespeare says. Ye niver see a +storm on th' ocean? Iv coorse ye didn't. How cud ye, ye that was born +away fr'm home? But I have, Jawn. May th' saints save me fr'm another! +I come over in th' bowels iv a big crazy balloon iv a propeller, like +wan iv thim ye see hooked up to Dempsey's dock, loaded with lumber an' +slabs an' Swedes. We watched th' little ol' island fadin' away behind +us, with th' sun sthrikin' th' white house-tops iv Queenstown an' +lightin' up th' chimbleys iv Martin Hogan's liquor store. Not wan iv +us but had left near all we loved behind, an' sare a chance that we'd +iver spoon th' stirabout out iv th' pot above th' ol' peat fire again. +Yes, by dad, there was wan,--a lad fr'm th' County Roscommon. Divvle +th' tear he shed. But, whin we had parted fr'm land, he turns to me, +an' says, 'Well, we're on our way,' he says. 'We are that,' says I. +'No chanst f'r thim to turn around an' go back,' he says. 'Divvle th' +fut,' says I. 'Thin,' he says, raisin' his voice, 'to 'ell with th' +Prince iv Wales,' he says. 'To 'ell with him,' he says. + +"An' that was th' last we see of sky or sun f'r six days. That night +come up th' divvle's own storm. Th' waves tore an' walloped th' ol' +boat, an' th' wind howled, an' ye cud hear th' machinery snortin' +beyant. Murther, but I was sick. Wan time th' ship 'd be settin' on +its tail, another it 'd be standin' on its head, thin rollin' over +cow-like on th' side; an' ivry time it lurched me stummick lurched +with it, an' I was tore an' rint an' racked till, if death come, it 'd +found me willin'. An' th' Roscommon man,--glory be, but he was +disthressed. He set on th' flure, with his hands on his belt an' his +face as white as stone, an' rocked to an' fro. 'Ahoo,' he says, 'ahoo, +but me insides has torn loose,' he says, 'an' are tumblin' around,' he +says. 'Say a pather an' avy,' says I, I was that mad f'r th' big +bosthoon f'r his blatherin'. 'Say a pather an' avy,' I says; f'r ye're +near to death's dure, avick.' 'Am I?' says he, raising up. 'Thin,' he +says, 'to 'ell with the whole rile fam'ly,' he says. Oh, he was a +rebel! + +"Through th' storm there was a babby cryin'. 'Twas a little wan, no +more thin a year ol'; an' 'twas owned be a Tipp'rary man who come fr'm +near Clonmel, a poor, weak, scarey-lookin' little divvle that lost his +wife, an' see th' bailiff walk off with th' cow, an' thin see him come +back again with th' process servers. An' so he was comin' over with +th' babby, an' bein' mother an' father to it. He'd rock it be th' hour +on his knees, an' talk nonsense to it, an' sing it songs, 'Aha, 'twas +there I met a maiden,' an' 'Th' Wicklow Mountaineer,' an' 'Th' Rambler +fr'm Clare,' an' 'O'Donnel Aboo,' croonin' thim in th' little babby's +ears, an' payin' no attintion to th' poorin' thunder above his head, +day an' night, day an' night, poor soul. An' th' babby cryin' out his +heart, an' him settin' there with his eyes as red as his hair, an' +makin' no kick, poor soul. + +"But wan day th' ship settled down steady, an' ragin' stummicks with +it; an' th' Roscommon man shakes himself, an' says, 'To 'ell with th' +Prince iv Wales an' th' Dook iv Edinboroo,' an' goes out. An' near all +th' steerage followed; f'r th' storm had done its worst, an' gone on +to throuble those that come afther, an' may th' divvle go with it. +'Twill be rest f'r that little Tipp'rary man; f'r th' waves was +r-runnin' low an' peaceful, an' th' babby have sthopped cryin'. + +"He had been settin' on a stool, but he come over to me. 'Th' storm,' +says I, 'is over. 'Twas wild while it lasted,' says I. 'Ye may say +so,' says he. 'Well, please Gawd,' says I, 'that it left none worse +off thin us.' 'It blew ill f'r some an' aise f'r others,' says he. +'Th' babby is gone.' + +"An' so it was, Jawn, f'r all his rockin' an' singin'. An' in th' +avnin' they burried it over th' side into th' sea. An' th' little man +see thim do it." + + + + +MAKING A CABINET. + + +"I suppose, Jawn," said Mr. Dooley, "ye do be afther a governmint job. +Is it council to Athlone or what, I dinnaw?" + +"I haven't picked out the place yet," said Mr. McKenna. "Bill wrote me +the day after election about it. He says: 'John,' he says, 'take +anything you want that's not nailed to the wall,' he says. He heard of +my good work in the Twenty-ninth. We rolled up eight votes in Carey's +precinct, and had five of them counted; and that's more of a miracle +than carrying New York by three hundred thousand." + +"It is so," said Mr. Dooley. "It is f'r a fact. Ye must 've give the +clerks an' judges morphine, an' ye desarve great credit. Ye ought to +have a place; an' I think ye'll get wan, if there's enough to go round +among th' Irish Raypublicans. 'Tis curious what an effect an iliction +has on th' Irish Raypublican vote. In October an Irish Raypublican's +so rare people point him out on th' sthreet, an' women carry their +babies to see him. But th' day afther iliction, glory be, ye run into +thim ivrywhere,--on th' sthreet-car, in the sthreet, in saloons +principally, an' at th' meetin's iv th' Raypublican Comity. I've seen +as manny iv them as twinty in here to-day, an' ivry wan iv thim fit to +run anny job in th' governmint, fr'm directin' th' Departmint iv State +to carryin' ashes out an' dumpin thim in th' white lot. + +"They can't all have jobs, but they've got to be attinded to first; +an', whin Mack's got through with thim, he can turn in an' make up +that cabinet iv his. Thin he'll have throuble iv his own, th' poor +man, on'y comin' into fifty thousand a year and rint free. If 'twas +wan iv th' customs iv th' great raypublic iv ours, Jawn, f'r to +appoint th' most competent men f'r th' places, he'd have a mighty +small lot f'r to pick fr'm. But, seein' that on'y thim is iligible +that are unfit, he has th' divvle's own time selectin'. F'r Sicrety iv +State, if he follows all iv what Casey calls recent precidints, he's +limited to ayether a jack-leg counthry lawyer, that has set around +Washington f'r twinty years, pickin' up a dollar or two be runnin' +errands f'r a foreign imbassy, or a judge that doesn't know whether +th' city of Booloogne-sure-Mere, where Tynan was pinched, is in +Boolgahria or th' County Cavan. F'r Sicrety iv th' Threasury he has a +choice iv three kinds iv proud and incompetent fi-nanceers. He can +ayether take a bank prisident, that 'll see that his little bank an' +its frinds doesn't get th' worst iv it, or a man that cudden't +maintain th' par'ty iv a counthry dhry-good store long enough to stand +off th' sheriff, or a broken-down Congressman, that is full iv red +liquor half the year, an' has remorse settin' on his chest th' other +half. + +"On'y wan class is iligible f'r Attorney-gin'ral. To fill that job, a +man's got to be a first-class thrust lawyer. If he ain't, th' Lord +knows what 'll happen. Be mistake he might prosecute a thrust some day, +an' th' whole counthry 'll be rooned. He must be a man competint f'r to +avoid such pitfalls an' snares, so 'tis th' rule f'r to have him hang +on to his job with th' thrust afther he gets to Washington. This keeps +him in touch with th' business intherests. + +"F'r Sicrety iv War, th' most like wan is some good prisident iv a +sthreet-car company. 'Tis exthraordinney how a man learns to manage +military affairs be auditin' thrip sheets an' rentin' signs in a +sthreet-car to chewin' gum imporyums. If Gin'ral Washington iv sacred +mimory 'd been under a good sthreet-car Sicrety iv War, he'd 've wore +a bell punch to ring up ivry time he killed a Hessian. He wud so, an' +they'd 've kep' tab on him, an', if he thried to wurruk a brother-in-law +on thim, they'd give him his time. + +"F'r th' Navy Departmint ye want a Southern Congressman fr'm th' +cotton belt. A man that iver see salt wather outside iv a pork bar'l +'d be disqualified f'r th' place. He must live so far fr'm th' sea +that he don't know a capstan bar fr'm a sheet anchor. That puts him in +th' proper position to inspect armor plate f'r th' imminent Carnegie, +an' insthruct admirals that's been cruisin' an' fightin' an' dhrinkin' +mint juleps f'r thirty years. He must know th' difference bechune silo +an' insilage, how to wean a bull calf, an' th' best way to cure a +spavin. If he has that information, he is fixed f'r th' job. + +"Whin he wants a good Postmaster-gin-'ral, take ye'er ol' law partner +f'r awhile, an', be th' time he's larned to stick stamps, hist him +out, an' put in a school-teacher fr'm a part iv th' counthry where +people communicate with each other through a conch. Th' Sicrety iv th' +Interior is an important man. If possible, he ought to come fr'm Maine +or Florida. At anny rate, he must be a resident iv an Atlantic +seacoast town, an' niver been west iv Cohoes. If he gets th' idee +there are anny white people in Ann Arbor or Columbus, he loses his +job. + +"Th' last place on th' list is Sicrety iv Agriculture. A good, lively +business man that was born in th' First Ward an' moved to th' +Twinty-foorth after th' fire is best suited to this office. Thin he'll +have no prejudices against sindin' a farmer cactus seeds whin he's +on'y lookin' f'r wheat, an' he will have a proper understandin' iv th' +importance iv an' early Agricultural Bureau rayport to th' +bucket-shops. + +"No Prisident can go far away that follows Cleveland's cabinet +appintmints, although it may be hard f'r Mack, bein' new at th' +business, to select th' right man f'r th' wrong place. But I'm sure +he'll be advised be his frinds, an' fr'm th' lists iv candydates I've +seen he'll have no throuble in findin' timber." + + + + +OLD AGE. + + +"Skatin'," said Mr. Dooley, "was intinded f'r th' young an' gay. 'Tis +not f'r th' likes iv me, now that age has crept into me bones an' +whitened th' head iv me. Divvle take th' rheumatics! An' to think iv +me twinty years ago cuttin' capers like a bally dancer, whin th' +Desplaines backed up an' th' pee-raires was covered with ice fr'm th' +mills to Riverside. Manny's th' time I done th' thrick, Jawn, me an' +th' others; but now I break me back broachin' a kag iv beer, an' th' +height iv me daily exercise is to wind th' clock befure turnin' in, +an' count up th' cash." + +"You haven't been trying to skate?" Mr. McKenna asked in tones of +alarm. + +"Not me," said Mr. Dooley. "Not me, but Hinnissy have. Hinnissy, +th' gay young man; Hinnissy, th' high-hearted, divvle-may-care +sphread-th'-light,--Hinnissy's been skatin' again. May th' Lord give +that man sinse befure he dies! An' he needs it right away. He ain't +got long to live, if me cousin, Misther Justice Dooley, don't appoint +a garjeen f'r him. + +"I had no more thought whin I wint over with him that th' silly goat +'d thry his pranks thin I have iv flyin' over this here bar mesilf. +Hinnissy is--let me see how ol' Hinnissy is. He was a good foot taller +thin me th' St. John's night whin th' comet was in th' sky. Let me +see, let me see! Jawn Dorgan was marrid to th' widdy Casey (her that +was Dora O'Brien) in th' spring iv fifty-two, an' Mike Callahan wint +to Austhreelia in th' winter iv sixty. Hinnissy's oldest brother was +too old to inlist in th' army. Six an' thirty is thirty-six. Twict +thirty-six is sivinty-two, less eight is sixty-four, an' nine, carry +wan,--let me see. Well, Hinnissy is ol' enough to know betther. + +"We wint to th' pond together, an' passed th' time iv day with our +frinds an' watched th' boys an' girls playin' shinny an' sky-larkin' +hand in hand. They come separate, Jawn; but they go home together, +thim young wans. I see be his face Spoort Hinnissy was growin' +excited. 'Sure,' says he, 'there's nawthin' like it,' he says. +'Martin,' he says, 'I'll challenge ye to race,' he says. 'So ye will,' +says I. 'So ye will,' I says. 'Will ye do it?' says he. 'Hinnissy,' +says I, 'come home,' I says, 'an' don't disgrace ye'er gray hairs +befure th' whole parish,' says I. 'I'll have ye to know,' says he, +'that 'tis not long since I cud cut a double eight with anny wan in +Bridgeport,' he says. + +"At that Tom Gallagher's young fly-be-night joined in; an' says he, +'Misther Hinnissy,' he says, 'if ye'll go on,' he says, 'I'll fetch ye +a pair iv skates.' 'Bring thim along,' says Hinnissy. An' he put thim +on. Well, Jawn, he sthud up an' made wan step, an' wan iv his feet +wint that way an' wan this; an' he thrun his hands in th' air, an' +come down on his back. I give him th' merry laugh. He wint clear daft, +an' thried to sthruggle to his feet; an', th' more he thried, th' more +th' skates wint fr'm undher him, till he looked f'r all th' wurruld +like wan iv thim little squirrels that goes roun' on th' wheel in +Schneider's burrud store. + +"Gallagher's lad picked him up an' sthud him on his feet; an' says he, +politely, 'Come on,' he says, 'go roun' with me.' Mind ye, he took him +out to th' middle iv th' pond, Hinnissy movin' like a bridge horse on +a slippery thrack; an' th' lad shook him off, an' skated away. 'Come +back!' says Hinnissy. 'Come back!' he says. 'Tom, I'll flay ye alive +whin I catch ye on th' sthreet! Come here, like a good boy, an' help +me off. Dooley,' he roars to me, 'ain't ye goin' to do annything?' he +says. 'Ne'er a thing,' says I, 'but go home.' 'But how 'm I goin' to +cross?' he says. 'Go down on ye'er knees an' crawl,' says I. 'Foolish +man!' I says. An' he done it, Jawn. It took him tin minyits to get +down in sections, but he done it. An' I sthud there, an' waited f'r +him while he crawled wan block over th' ice, mutterin' prayers at ivry +fut. + +"I wint home with him aftherwards; an' what d'ye think he said? +'Martin,' says he, 'I've been a sinful man in me time; but I niver had +th' like iv that f'r a pinance,' he says. 'Think iv doin' th' stations +iv th' cross on th' ice,' he says. 'Hinnissy,' I says, 'they'se no +crime in th' catalogue akel to bein' old,' I says. 'Th' nearest thing +to it,' I says, 'is bein' a fool,' I says; 'an' ye're both,' I says." + + + + +THE DIVIDED SKIRT. + + +"Jawn," said Mr. Dooley, "did ye iver hear th' puzzle whin a woman's +not a woman?" + +"Faith, I have," said Mr. McKenna. "When I was a kid, I knew the +answer." + +"Ye didn't know this answer," said Mr. Dooley. "Whin is a woman not a +woman? 'Twas give to me las' Satthurdah night be young Callaghan, th' +sthreet-car man that have all th' latest jokes that does be out. Whin +is a woman not a woman? mind ye. Whin's she's on a bicycle, by dad. +Yes, yes. Whin she's on a bicycle, Jawn. D'ye know Molly Donahue?" + +"I know her father," said Mr. McKenna. + +"Well, well, the dacint man sint his daughter Molly to have a convint +schoolin'; an' she larned to pass th' butther in Frinch an' to paint +all th' chiny dishes in th' cubb'rd, so that, whin Donahue come home +wan night an' et his supper, he ate a green paint ha-arp along with +his cabbage, an' they had to sind f'r Docthor Hinnissy f'r to pump th' +a-art work out iv him. So they did. But Donahue, bein' a quite man, +niver minded that, but let her go on with her do-se-does an' bought +her a bicycle. All th' bicycles th' poor man had himsilf whin he was +her age was th' dhray he used to dhrive f'r Comiskey; but he says, +'Tis all th' thing,' he says. 'Let th' poor child go her way,' he says +to his wife, he says. 'Honoria,' he says, 'she'll get over it.' + +"No wan knowed she had th' bicycle, because she wint out afther dark +an' practised on it down be th' dump. But las' Friday ev'nin', lo an' +behold, whin th' r-road was crowded with people fr'm th' brick-yards +an' th' gas-house an' th' mills, who shud come ridin' along be th' +thracks, bumpin' an' holdin' on, but Molly Donahue? An' dhressed! How +d'ye suppose she was dhressed? In pa-ants, Jawn avick. In pa-ants. Oh, +th' shame iv it! Ivry wan on th' sthreet stopped f'r to yell. Little +Julia Dorgan called out, 'Who stole Molly's dhress?' Ol' man Murphy +was settin' asleep on his stoop. He heerd th' noise, an' woke up an' +set his bull tarrier Lydia Pinkham on her. Malachi Dorsey, +vice-prisident iv th' St. Aloysius Society, was comin' out iv th' +German's, an' see her. He put his hands to his face, an' wint back to +th' house. + +"But she wint bumpin' on, Jawn, till she come up be th' house. Father +Kelly was standin' out in front, an' ol' man Donahue was layin' down +th' law to him about th' tariff, whin along come th' poor foolish girl +with all th' kids in Bridgeport afther her. Donahue turned white. 'Say +a pather an' avy quick,' he says to the priest. Thin he called out to +his wife. 'Honoria,' he says, 'bring a bar'l,' he says. 'Molly has +come away without annything on,' he says, 'but Sarsfield's pa-ants.' +Thin he turned on his daughter. 'May th' Lord forgive ye, Molly +Donahue,' he says, 'this night!' he says. 'Child, where is ye'er +dhress?' 'Tut, tut!' says th' good man. 'Molly,' he says, 'ye look +well on that there bicycle,' he says. 'But 'tis th' first time I ever +knowed ye was bow-legged,' he says, says th' soggarth aroon. + +"Well, sir, she wint into th' house as if she'd been shot fr'm a gun, +an' th' nex' mornin' I see Doheny's express wagon haulin' th' bicycle +away." + +"Didn't Father Kelly do anything about it?" asked Mr. McKenna. + +"No," replied Mr. Dooley. "There was some expicted she'd be read fr'm +th' altar at high mass, but she wasn't." + + + + +A BIT OF HISTORY. + + +Mr. McKenna found Mr. Dooley standing at the end of his bargain +counter with the glasses on the tip of his nose. He was in deep +contemplation of a pile of green paper which he was thumbing over. + +"Jawn," said he, as Mr. McKenna walked over and looked on curiously, +"d'ye know a good man that I cud thrust to remodel th' shop?" + +"And what's got into you?" asked Mr. McKenna. + +"Im goin' to have two large mirrors put on th' side an' wan below. +Thin I'm goin' to have th' ceilin' painted green, an' a bull-yard +table put in th' back room. 'Twill be a place to par'lyze ye whin it +is through with." + +"And what 'll pay for it?" asked Mr. McKenna, in blank amazement. + +"This," said Mr. Dooley, whacking the pile before him. "Here's twinty +thousand dollars iv th' bonds iv th' raypublic. They bear inthrest at +twinty-five per cint; an' they're signed be Xavier O'Malley, Pagan +O'Leary (th' wicked man), an' O'Brien, th' threeasurer. Me cousin Mike +put thim up with me f'r a loan iv five. He wurruked in th' +threeasurer's office; an', whin th' polis broke up th' Irish +rivolution, he put on his coat an' stuck a month's bond issue in his +pocket. 'They'll come in handy wan day,' he says; for he was a +philosopher, if he did take a dhrop too much. Whin he give me th' +bonds, he says, says he, 'Hol' to thim,' he says, 'an' some time or +other they'll make a rich man iv ye.' Jawn, I feel th' time has come. +Cleveland's on th' rampage; an', if Ireland ain't a raypublic befure a +month, I'll give ye these here documents f'r what I paid on thim. I +have me information fr'm Hinnissy, an' Hinnissy have it fr'm Willum +Joyce, an' ye know how close Joyce is to Finerty. Hinnissy was in last +night. 'Well,' says I, 'what's th' news?' I says. 'News?' says he. +'They'se on'y wan thing talked about,' he says. 'We're goin' to have a +war with England,' he says. 'An' th' whole Irish army has inlisted,' +he says. 'Has Finerty gone in?' says I. 'He has,' he says. 'Thin,' +says I, ''tis all off with th' Sassenach. We'll run thim fr'm th' face +iv th' earth,' I says. ''Tis th' prisint intintion iv mesilf to hire a +good big tug an' put a hook into Ireland, an' tow it over th' big +dhrink, an' anchor it ayether in th' harbor iv New York or in th' +lake. + +"D'ye know, Jawn, 'twas Cleveland that definded th' Fenians whin they +was took up f'r invadin' Canada. 'Twas so. He was not much in thim +days,--a kid iv a lawyer, like Doheny's youngest, with a lot iv hair +an' a long coat an' a hungry look. Whin th' Fenians come back fr'm +Canada in a boat an' landed in th' city iv Buf-falo, New York, they +was all run in; an' sare a lawyer cud they get to defind thim till +this here Cleveland come up, an' says he: 'I'll take th' job,' he +says. 'I'll go in an' do th' best I can f'r ye.' Me uncle Mike was +along with thim, an' he looked Cleveland over; an' says he: 'Ye'll do +th' best ye can f'r us,' he says, 'will ye?' he says. 'Well,' he says, +'I'll take no chances,' he says. 'Sind f'r th' desk sergeant,' he +says. 'I'm goin' to plead guilty an' turn informer,' he says. 'Tis +lucky f'r Cleveland me uncle died befure he r-run f'r President. He'd +'ve had wan vote less. + +"I'll niver forget th' night me uncle Mike come back fr'm Canada. Ye +know he was wan iv th' most des'prit Fenians that iver lived; an', +whin th' movement begun, he had to thread on no wan's shadow befure he +was off f'r th' battle. Ivry wan in town knew he was goin'; an' he +wint away with a thrunk full iv bottles an' all th' good wishes iv th' +neighborhood, more be reason iv th' fact that he was a boistherous man +whin he was th' worse f'r wear, with a bad habit iv throwin' bricks +through his neighbors' windys. We cud see him as th' thrain moved out, +walkin' up an' down th' aisle, askin' iv there was anny Englishman in +th' car that 'd like to go out on th' platform an' rowl off with him. + +"Well, he got up in New York an' met a lot iv other des'prite men like +himsilf, an' they wint across th' bordher singin' songs an' carryin' +on, an' all th' militia iv New York was undher ar-rms; f'r it 'd been +just like thim to turn round an' do their fightin' in New York. 'Twas +little me uncle Mike cared where he fought. + +"But, be hook or crook, they got to where th' other Fenians was, an' +jined th' army. They come fr'm far an' near; an' they were young an' +old, poor lads, some iv thim bent on sthrikin' th' blow that 'd break +th' back iv British tyranny an' some jus' crazed f'r fightin'. They +had big guns an' little guns an' soord canes an' pitchforks an' +scythes, an' wan or two men had come over armed with baseball bats. +They had more gin'rals thin ye cud find in a Raypublican West Town +convintion, an' ivry private was at laste a colonel. They made me +uncle Mike a brigadier gin'ral. 'That 'll do f'r a time,' says he; +'but, whin th' fun begins, I'll pull Dorney off his horse, an' be a +major gin'ral,' he says. An' he'd 've done it, too, on'y they was no +fightin'. + +"They marched on, an' th' British run away fr'm thim; an', be hivins, +me uncle Mike cud niver get a shot at a redcoat, though he searched +high an' low f'r wan. Thin a big rain-storm come, an' they was no +tents to protect thim; an' they set aroun', shiverin' an' swearin'. Me +uncle Mike was a bit iv a politician; an' he organized a meetin' iv +th' lads that had come over with him, an' sint a comity to wait on th' +major gin'ral. 'Dorney,' says me uncle Mike, f'r he was chairman iv +th' comity, 'Dorney,' he says, 'me an' me associated warriors wants to +know,' he says. 'What d'ye mane?' says Dorney. 'Ye brought us up +here,' says me uncle Mike, 'to fight the British,' he says. 'If ye +think,' he says, 'that we come over,' he says, 'to engage in a six +days' go-as-you-please walkin' match,' he says, 'ye'd betther go an' +have ye'er head looked into,' he says. 'Have ye anny British around +here? Have ye e'er a Sassenach concealed about ye'er clothes?' he +says. 'We can't do annything if they won't stand f'r us,' says Dorney. +'Thin,' says me uncle Mike, 'I wash me hands iv th' whole invasion,' +he says. 'I'll throuble ye f'r me voucher,' he says. 'I'm goin back to +a counthry where they grow men that 'll stand up an' fight back,' he +says; an' he an' his la-ads wint over to Buf-falo, an' was locked up +f'r rivolution. + +"Me uncle Mike come home on th' bumpers iv a freight car, which is th' +way most rivolutioners come home, excipt thim that comes home in th' +baggage car in crates. 'Uncle Mike,' says I to him, 'what's war like, +annyhow?' 'Well,' says he, 'in some rayspicts it is like missin' th' +last car,' he says; 'an' in other rayspicts 'tis like gettin' gay in +front iv a polis station,' he says. An', by dad, whin I come to think +what they call wars nowadays, I believe me uncle Mike was right. 'Twas +different whin I was a lad. They had wars in thim days that was wars." + + + + +THE RULING CLASS. + + +"I see be th' pa-apers," said Mr. Dooley, "that arnychy's torch do be +lifted, an' what it means I dinnaw; but this here I know, Jawn, that +all arnychists is inimies iv governmint, an' all iv thim ought to be +hung f'r th' first offence an' bathed f'r th' second. Who are they, +annyhow, but foreigners, an' what right have they to be holdin' +torchlight procissions in this land iv th' free an' home iv th' brave? +Did ye iver see an American or an Irishman an arnychist? No, an' ye +niver will. Whin an Irishman thinks th' way iv thim la-ads, he goes on +th' polis force an' dhraws his eighty-three-thirty-three f'r throwin' +lodgin'-house bums into th' pathrol wagon. An' there ye a-are. + +"I niver knowed but th' wan arnychist, an' he was th' divvle an' all +f'r slaughtherin' th' rich. He was a Boolgahrian man that lived down +be Cologne Sthreet, acrost th' river; but he come over to Bridgeport +whin he did have his skates on him, f'r th' liftenant over there was +again arnychists, an' 'twas little our own Jawnny Shea cared f'r thim +so long as they didn't bother him. Well, sir, this here man's name was +Owsky or something iv that sort, but I always called him Casey be way +iv a joke. He had whiskers on him like thim on a cokynut, an' I heerd +he swore an oath niver to get shaved till he killed a man that wore a +stove-pipe hat. + +"Be that as it may, Jawn, he was a most ferocious man. Manny's th' +time I've heerd him lecture to little Matt Doolan asleep like a log +behind th' stove. What a-are we comin' to?' he'd say. 'What a-are we +comin' to?' D'ye mind, Jawn, that's th' way he always began. 'Th' poor +do be gettin' richer,' says he, 'an' th' rich poorer,' says he. 'Th' +governmint,' says he, 'is in th' hands iv th' monno-polists,' he says, +'an' they're crushin' th' life out iv th' prolotoorios.' A +prolotoorio, Jawn, is th' same thing as a hobo. 'Look at th' Willum +Haitch Vanderbilts,' says he, 'an' th' Gools an' th' Astors,' says he, +'an' thin look at us,' he says, 'groun' down,' he says, 'till we cries +f'r bread on th' sthreet,' he says; 'an' they give us a stone,' he +says. 'Dooley,' he says, 'fetch in a tub iv beer, an' lave th' collar +off,' he says. + +"Doolan 'd wake up with a start, an' applaud at that. He was a little +tailor-man that wurruked in a panthry down town, an' I seen him weep +whin a dog was r-run over be a dhray. Thin Casey 'd call on Doolan f'r +to stand his ground an' desthroy th' polis,--'th' onions iv th' +monno-polists,' he called thim,--an' Doolan 'd say, 'Hear, hear,' till +I thrun thim both out. + +"I thought me frind Casey 'd be taken up f'r histin' a polisman f'r +sure, though, to be fair with him, I niver knowed him to do but wan +arnychist thing, and that was to make faces at Willum Joyce because he +lived in a two-story an' bay-window brick house. Doolan said that was +goin' too far, because Willum Joyce usually had th' price. Wan day +Casey disappeared, an' I heerd he was married. He niver showed up f'r +a year; an', whin he come in, I hardly knowed him. His whiskers had +been filed an' his hair cut, an' he was dhressed up to kill. He wint +into th' back room, an' Doolan was asleep there. He woke him, an' made +a speech to him that was full iv slaughther and bloodshed. Pretty soon +in come a little woman, with a shawl over her head,--a little German +lady. Says she, 'Where's me hoosband?' in a German brogue ye cud cut +with an ax. 'I don't know ye'er husband, ma'am,' says I. 'What's his +name?' She told me, an' I seen she was Casey's wife; 'He's in there,' +I says. 'In back,' I says, 'talking to Doolan, th' prolotoorio.' I +wint back with her, an' there was Casey whalin' away. 'Ar-re ye men or +ar-re ye slaves?' he says to Doolan. 'Julius,' says his wife, 'vat ye +doin' there, ye blackgaard,' she says. 'Comin' ze, or be hivens I'll +break ye'er jaw,' she says. Well, sir, he turned white, an' come over +as meek as a lamb. She grabbed him be th' arm an' led him off, an' +'twas th' last I seen iv him. + +"Afther a while Doolan woke up, an' says he, 'Where's me frind?' +'Gone,' says I. 'His wife came in, an' hooked him off.' 'Well,' says +Doolan, ''tis on'y another victhry iv the rulin' classes,' he says." + + + + +THE OPTIMIST. + + +"Aho," said Mr. Dooley, drawing a long, deep breath. "Ah-ho, glory be +to th' saints!" + +He was sitting out in front of his liquor shop with Mr. McKenna, their +chairs tilted against the door-posts. If it had been hot elsewhere, +what had it been in Archey Road? The street-car horses reeled in the +dust from the tracks. The drivers, leaning over the dash-boards, +flogged the brutes with the viciousness of weakness. The piles of coke +in the gas-house yards sent up waves of heat like smoke. Even the +little girls playing on the sidewalks were flaming pink in color. But +the night saw Archey Road out in all gayety, its flannel shirt open at +the breast to the cooling blast and the cries of its children filling +the air. It also saw Mr. Dooley luxuriating like a polar bear, and +bowing cordially to all who passed. + +"Glory be to th' saints," he said, "but it's been a thryin' five days. +I've been mean enough to commit murdher without th' strength even to +kill a fly. I expect to have a fight on me hands; f'r I've insulted +half th' road, an' th' on'y thing that saved me was that no wan was +sthrong enough to come over th' bar. 'I cud lick ye f'r that, if it +was not so hot,' said Dorsey, whin I told him I'd change no bill f'r +him. 'Ye cud not,' says I, 'if 'twas cooler,' I says. It's cool enough +f'r him now. Look, Jawn dear, an' see if there's an ice-pick undher me +chair. + +"It 'd be more thin th' patience iv Job 'd stand to go through such +weather, an' be fit f'r society. They's on'y wan man in all th' +wurruld cud do it, an' that man's little Tim Clancy. He wurruks out in +th' mills, tin hours a day, runnin' a wheelbarrow loaded with +cindhers. He lives down beyant. Wan side iv his house is up again a +brewery, an' th' other touches elbows with Twinty-Percint Murphy's +flats. A few years back they found out that he didn't own on'y th' +front half iv th' lot, an' he can set on his back stoop an' put his +feet over th' fince now. He can, faith. Whin he's indures, he breathes +up th' chimbley; an' he has a wife an' eight kids. He dhraws wan +twinty-five a day--whin he wurruks. + +"He come in here th' other night to talk over matthers; an' I was +stewin' in me shirt, an' sayin' cross things to all th' wurruld fr'm +th' tail iv me eye. ''Tis hot,' says I. ''Tis war-rum,' he says. ''Tis +dam hot,' says I. 'Well,' he says, ''tis good weather f'r th' crops,' +he says. 'Things grows in this weather. I mind wanst,' he says, 'we +had days just like these, an' we raised forty bushels iv oats to an +acre,' he says. 'Whin Neville, th' landlord, come with wagons to take +it off, he was that surprised ye cud iv knocked him down with a +sthraw. 'Tis great growin' weather,' he says. An', Jawn, by dad, +barrin' where th' brewery horse spilt oats on th' durestep an' th' +patches iv grass on th' dump, sare a growin' thing but childher has +that little man seen in twinty years. + +"'Twas hotter whin I seen him nex', an' I said so. ''Tis war-rum,' he +says, laughin'. 'By dad, I think th' ice 'll break up in th' river +befure mornin',' he says. 'But look how cold it was last winter,' he +says. 'Th' crops need weather like this,' he says. I'd like to have +hit him with a chair. Sundah night I wint over to see him. He was +sittin' out in front, with a babby on each knee. 'Good avnin',' says +I. 'Good avnin',' he says. 'This is th' divvle's own weather,' I says. +'I'm suffocatin'.' ''Tis quite a thaw,' he says. 'How's all th' +folks?' says I. 'All well, thank ye kindly,' he says. 'save an' except +th' wife an' little Eleen,' he says. 'They're not so well,' he says. +'But what can ye expect? They've had th' best iv health all th' year.' +'It must be har-rd wurrukin' at th' mills this weather,' I says. ''Tis +war-rum,' he says; 'but ye can't look f'r snow-storms this time iv th' +year,' he says. 'Thin,' says he, 'me mind's taken aff th' heat be me +wurruk,' he says. 'Dorsey that had th' big cinder-pile--the wan near +th' fence--was sun-struck Fridah, an' I've been promoted to his job. +'Tis a most res-sponsible place,' he says; 'an' a man, to fill it +rightly an' properly, has no time to think f'r th' crops,' he says. +An' I wint away, lavin' him singin' 'On th' Three-tops' to th' kids on +his knees. + +"Well, he comes down th' road tonight afther th' wind had turned, with +his old hat on th' back iv his head, whistlin' 'Th' Rambler fr'm +Clare' and I stopped to talk with him. 'Glory be,' says I, ''tis +pleasant to breathe th' cool air,' says I. 'Ah,' he says, ''tis a rale +good avnin',' he says. 'D'ye know,' he says, 'I haven't slept much +these nights, f'r wan reason 'r another. But,' he says, 'I'm afraid +this here change won't be good f'r th' crops,' he says. 'If we'd had +wan or two more war-rum days an' thin a sprinkle iv rain,' he says, +'how they would grow, how they would grow!'" + +Mr. Dooley sat up in his chair, and looked over at Mr. McKenna. + +"Jawn," he said, "d'ye know that, whin I think iv th' thoughts that's +been in my head f'r a week, I don't dare to look Tim Clancy in th' +face." + + + + +PROSPERITY. + + +"Th' defeat iv Humanity be Prosperity was wan iv th' raysults iv th' +iliction," said Mr. Dooley. + +"What are you talking about?" asked Mr. McKenna, gruffly. + +"Well," said Mr. Dooley, "I thought it was McKinley an' Hobart that +won out, but I see now that it's McKinley an' Prosperity. If Bryan had +been elected, Humanity would have had a front seat an' a tab. Th' +sufferin's iv all th' wurruld would have ended; an' Jawn H. Humanity +would be in th' White House, throwin' his feet over th' furniture an' +receivin' th' attintions iv diplomats an' pleeniapotentiaries. It was +decided otherwise be th' fates, as th' Good Book says. Prosperity is +th' bucko now. Barrin' a sthrike at th' stock-yards an' a hold-up here +an' there, Prosperity has come leapin' in as if it had jumped fr'm a +springboard. Th' mills are opened, th' factories are goin' to go, th' +railroads are watherin' stocks, long processions iv workin'men are +marchin' fr'm th' pay-car to their peaceful saloons, their wives are +takin' in washin' again, th' price iv wheat is goin' up an' down, +creditors are beginnin' to sue debtors; an' thus all th' wurruld is +merry with th' on'y rational enjoyments iv life. + +"An' th' stock exchange has opened. That's wan iv th' strongest signs +iv prosperity. I min' wanst whin me frind Mike McDonald was +controllin' th' city, an' conductin' an exchange down be Clark +Sthreet. Th' game had been goin' hard again th' house. They hadn't +been a split f'r five deals. Whin ivrybody was on th' queen to win, +with th' sivin spot coppered, th' queen won, th' sivin spot lost. Wan +lad amused himsilf be callin' th' turn twinty-wan times in succession, +an' th' check rack was down to a margin iv eleven whites an' +fifty-three cints in change. Mike looked around th' crowd, an' turned +down th' box. 'Gintlemen,' says he, 'th' game is closed. Business +conditions are such,' he says, 'that I will not be able to cash in +ye'er checks,' he says. 'Please go out softly, so's not to disturb +th' gintlemen at th' roulette wheel,' he says, 'an' come back afther +th' iliction, whin confidence is restored an' prosperity returns to +th' channels iv thrade an' industhry,' he says. 'Th' exchange 'll be +opened promptly; an' th' usual rule iv chips f'r money an' money f'r +chips, fifty on cases an' sivinty-five f'r doubles, a hard-boiled egg +an' a dhrink f'r losers, will prevail,' he says. 'Return with th' glad +tidings iv renewed commerce, an' thank th' Lord I haven't took ye'er +clothes.' His was th' first stock exchange we had. + +"Yes, Prosperity has come hollerin' an screamin'. To read th' papers, +it seems to be a kind iv a vagrancy law. No wan can loaf anny more. +Th' end iv vacation has gone f'r manny a happy lad that has spint six +months ridin' through th' counthry, dodgin' wurruk, or loafin' under +his own vine or hat-three. Prosperity grabs ivry man be th' neck, an' +sets him shovellin' slag or coke or runnin' up an' down a ladder with +a hod iv mortar. It won't let th' wurruld rest. If Humanity 'd been +victoryous, no wan 'd iver have to do a lick again to th' end iv his +days. But Prosperity's a horse iv another color. It goes round like a +polisman givin' th' hot fut to happy people that are snoozin' in th' +sun. 'Get up,' says Prosperity. 'Get up, an' hustle over to th' +rollin' mills: there's a man over there wants ye to carry a ton iv +coal on ye'er back.' 'But I don't want to wurruk,' says th' lad. 'I'm +very comfortable th' way I am.' 'It makes no difference,' says +Prosperity. 'Ye've got to do ye'er lick. Wurruk, f'r th' night is +comin'. Get out, an' hustle. Wurruk, or ye can't be unhappy; an', if +th' wurruld isn't unhappy, they'se no such a thing as Prosperity.' + +"That's wan thing I can't understand," Mr. Dooley went on. "Th' +newspapers is run be a lot iv gazabos that thinks wurruk is th' +ambition iv mankind. Most iv th' people I know 'd be happiest layin' +on a lounge with a can near by, or stretchin' thimsilves f'r another +nap at eight in th' mornin'. But th' papers make it out that there 'd +be no sunshine in th' land without you an' me, Hinnissy, was up before +daybreak pullin' a sthreet-car or poundin' sand with a shovel. I seen +a line, 'Prosperity effects on th' Pinnsylvania Railroad'; an' I read +on to find that th' road intinded to make th' men in their shops +wurruk tin hours instead iv eight, an' it says 'there's no reasons why +they should not wurruk Sundahs iv they choose.' If they choose! An' +what chance has a man got that wants to make th' wurruld brighter an' +happier be rollin' car-wheels but to miss mass an' be at th' shops?" + +"We must all work," said Mr. McKenna, sententiously. + +"Yes," said Mr. Dooley, "or be wurruked." + + + + +THE GREAT HOT SPELL. + + +It was sultry everywhere, but particularly in Archey Road; for in +summer Archey Road is a tunnel for the south-west wind, which +refreshes itself at the rolling-mill blasts, and spills its wrath upon +the just and the unjust alike. Wherefore Mr. Dooley and Mr. McKenna +were both steaming, as they sat at either side of the door of Mr. +Dooley's place, with their chairs tilted back against the posts. + +"Hot," said Mr. McKenna. + +"Warrum," said Mr. Dooley. + +"I think this is the hottest September that ever was," said Mr. +McKenna. + +"So ye say," said Mr. Dooley. "An' that's because ye're a young man, a +kid. If ye was my age, ye'd know betther. How d'ye do, Mrs. Murphy? Go +in, an' fill it ye'ersilf. Ye'll find th' funnel undher th' see-gar +case.--Ye'd know betther thin that. Th' Siptimber iv th' year eighteen +sixty-eight was so much hotter thin this that, if ye wint fr'm wan to +th' other, ye'd take noomoney iv th' lungs,--ye wud so. 'Twas a +remarkable summer, takin' it all in all. On th' Foorth iv July they +was a fut iv ice in Haley's slough, an' I was near flooded out be th' +wather pipe bustin'. A man be th' name iv Maloney froze his hand +settin' off a Roman candle near Main Sthreet, an'--Tin cints, please, +ma'am. Thank ye kindly. How's th' good man?--As I said, it was a +remarkable summer. It rained all August, an' th' boys wint about on +rafts; an' a sthreet-car got lost fr'm th' road, an' I dhrove into th' +canal, an' all on boord--'Avnin', Mike. Ah-ha, 'twas a great fight. +An' Buck got his eye, did he? A good man. + +"Well, Jawn, along come Siptimber. It begun fairly warrum, wan +hundherd or so in th' shade; but no wan minded that. Thin it got +hotter an' hotter, an' people begun to complain a little. They was +sthrong in thim days,--not like th' joods they raise now,--an' a +little heat more or less didn't kill thim. But afther a while it was +more thin most iv thim wanted. The sthreet-car thracks got so soft +they spread all over th' sthreet, an' th' river run dhry. Afther +boilin' f'r five days like a--How are ye, Dempsey? Ye don't tell me? +Now th' likes iv him runnin' f'r aldherman! I'd as lave vote f'r th' +tillygraph pole. Well, be good to ye'ersilf. Folks all well? Thanks +be.--They shut off th' furnaces out at th' mills, an' melted th' iron +be puttin' it out in th' sun. Th' puddlers wurruked in iron cases, an' +was kept alive be men playin' a hose on thim fr'm th' packin' house +refrigerator. Wan iv thim poked his head out to light his pipe, an' he +was--Well, well, Timothy, ye are quite a sthranger. Ah, dear oh me, +that's too ba-ad, too ba-ad. I'll tell ye what ye do. Ye rub th' hand +in half iv a potato, an' say tin pather an' avy's over it ivry day f'r +tin days. 'Tis a sure cure. I had wan wanst. Th' kids are thrivin', I +dinnaw? That's good. Betther to hear thim yellin' in th' sthreet thin +th' sound iv th' docthor's gig at th' dure. + +"Well, Jawn, things wint fr'm bad to worse. All th' beer in th' house +was mulled; an' Mrs. Dinny Hogan--her that was Odelia O'Brien--burned +her face atin' ice-crame down be th' Italyan man's place, on Halsthed +Sthreet. 'Twas no sthrange sight to see an ice-wagon goin' along th' +sthreet on fire--McCarthy! McCarthy! come over here! Sure, ye're +gettin' proud, passin' by ye'er ol' frinds. How's thricks in th' +Ninth? D'ye think he will? Well, I've heerd that, too; but they was a +man in here to-day that says the Boohemians is out f'r him with axes. +Good-night. Don't forget th' number. + +"They was a man be th' name iv Daheny, Jawn, a cousin iv th' wan ye +know, that started to walk up th' r-road fr'm th' bridge. Befure he +got to Halsthed Sthreet, his shoes was on fire. He turned in an alarm; +but th' fire departmint was all down on Mitchigan Avnoo, puttin' out +th' lake, an'"--"Putting out what?" demanded Mr. McKenna. + +"Puttin' out th' lake," replied Mr. Dooley, stolidly. "They was no +insurance--A good avnin' to ye, Mrs. Doyle. Ye're goin' over, thin? I +was there las' night, an' a finer wake I niver see. They do nawthin' +be halves. How was himsilf? As natural as life? Yes, ma'am, rayqueem +high mass, be carredges to Calv'ry. + +"On th' twinty-fifth iv Siptimber a change come. It was very sudden; +an', steppin' out iv th' ice-box where I slept in th' mornin', I got a +chill. I wint for me flannels, an' stopped to look at th' +thermomether. It was four hundherd an' sixty-five." + +"How much?" asked Mr. McKenna. + +"Four hundherd an' sixty-five." + +"Fahrenheit?" + +"No, it belonged to Dorsey. Ah! well, well, an' here's Cassidy. Come +in, frind, an' have a shell iv beer. I've been tellin' Jawnny about +th' big thaw iv eighteen sixty-eight. Feel th' wind, man alive. 'Tis +turnin' cool, an' we'll sleep to-night." + + + + +KEEPING LENT. + + +Mr. McKenna had observed Mr. Dooley in the act of spinning a long, +thin spoon in a compound which reeked pleasantly and smelt of the +humming water of commerce; and he laughed and mocked at the +philosopher. + +"Ah-ha," he said, "that's th' way you keep Lent, is it? Two weeks from +Ash Wednesday, and you tanking up." + +Mr. Dooley went on deliberately to finish the experiment, leisurely +dusting the surface with nutmeg and tasting the product before setting +down the glass daintily. Then he folded his apron, and lay back in +ample luxury while he began: "Jawn, th' holy season iv Lent was sent +to us f'r to teach us th' weakness iv th' human flesh. Man proposes, +an' th' Lord disposes, as Hinnissy says. + +"I mind as well as though it was yesterday th' struggle iv me father +f'r to keep Lent. He began to talk it a month befure th' time. 'On Ash +Winsdah,' he'd say, 'I'll go in f'r a rale season iv fast an' +abstinince,' he'd say. An' sure enough, whin Ash Winsdah come round at +midnight, he'd take a long dhraw at his pipe an' knock th' ashes out +slowly again his heel, an' thin put th' dhudeen up behind th' clock. +'There,' says he, 'there ye stay till Easter morn,' he says. Ash +Winsdah he talked iv nawthin but th' pipe. ''Tis exthraordinney how +easy it is f'r to lave off,' he says. 'All ye need is will power,' he +says. 'I dinnaw that I'll iver put a pipe in me mouth again. 'Tis a +bad habit, smokin' is,' he says; 'an' it costs money. A man's betther +off without it. I find I dig twict as well,' he says; 'an', as f'r +cuttin' turf, they'se not me like in th' parish since I left off th' +pipe,' he says. + +"Well, th' nex' day an' th' nex' day he talked th' same way; but +Fridah he was sour, an' looked up at th' clock where th' pipe was. +Saturdah me mother, thinkin' to be plazin to him, says: 'Terrence,' +she says, 'ye're iver so much betther without th' tobacco,' she says. +'I'm glad to find you don't need it. Ye'll save money,' she says. 'Be +quite, woman,' says he. 'Dear, oh dear,' he says, 'I'd like a pull at +th' clay,' he says. 'Whin Easter comes, plaze Gawd, I'll smoke mesilf +black an' blue in th' face,' he says. + +"That was th' beginnin' iv th' downfall. Choosdah he was settin' in +front iv th' fire with a pipe in his mouth. 'Why, Terrence,' says me +mother, 'ye're smokin' again.' 'I'm not,' says he: ''tis a dhry +smoke,' he says; ''tisn't lighted,' he says. Wan week afther th' +swear-off he came fr'm th' field with th' pipe in his face, an' him +puffin' away like a chimney. 'Terrence,' says me mother, 'it isn't +Easter morn.' 'Ah-ho,' says he, 'I know it,' he says; 'but,' he says, +'what th' divvle do I care?' he says. 'I wanted f'r to find out +whether it had th' masthery over me; an',' he says, 'I've proved that +it hasn't,' he says. 'But what's th' good iv swearin' off, if ye don't +break it?' he says. 'An' annyhow,' he says, 'I glory in me shame.' + +"Now, Jawn," Mr. Dooley went on, "I've got what Hogan calls a theery, +an' it's this: that what's thrue iv wan man's thrue iv all men. I'm me +father's son a'most to th' hour an' day. Put me in th' County +Roscommon forty year ago, an' I'd done what he'd done. Put him on th' +Ar-rchey Road, an' he'd be deliverin' ye a lecture on th' sin iv +thinkin' ye're able to overcome th' pride iv th' flesh, as Father +Kelly says. Two weeks ago I looked with contimpt on Hinnissy f'r an' +because he'd not even promise to fast an' obstain fr'm croquet durin' +Lent. To-night you see me mixin' me toddy without th' shadow iv +remorse about me. I'm proud iv it. An' why not? I was histin' in me +first wan whin th' soggarth come down fr'm a sick call, an' looked in +at me. 'In Lent?' he says, half-laughin' out in thim quare eyes iv +his. 'Yes,' said I. 'Well,' he says, 'I'm not authorized to say this +be th' propaganda,' he says, 'an' 'tis no part iv th' directions f'r +Lent,' he says; 'but,' he says, 'I'll tell ye this, Martin,' he says, +'that they'se more ways than wan iv keepin' th' season,' he says. +'I've knowed thim that starved th' stomach to feast th' evil temper,' +he says. 'They'se a little priest down be th' Ninth Ward that niver +was known to keep a fast day; but Lent or Christmas tide, day in an' +day out, he goes to th' hospital where they put th' people that has +th' small-pox. Starvation don't always mean salvation. If it did,' he +says, 'they'd have to insure th' pavemint in wan place, an' they'd +be money to burn in another. Not,' he says, 'that I want ye to +undherstand that I look kindly on th' sin iv'-- + +"''Tis a cold night out,' says I. + +"'Well,' he says, th' dear man, 'ye may. On'y,' he says, ''tis Lent.' + +"'Yes,' says I. + +"'Well, thin,' he says, 'by ye'er lave I'll take but half a lump iv +sugar in mine,' he says." + + + + +THE QUICK AND THE DEAD. + + +Mr. Dooley and Mr. McKenna sat outside the ample door of the little +liquor store, the evening being hot, and wrapped their legs around the +chair, and their lips around two especially long and soothing drinks. +They talked politics and religion, the people up and down the street, +the chances of Murphy, the tinsmith, getting on the force, and a great +deal about the weather. A woman in white started Mr. McKenna's nerves. + +"Glory be, I thought it was a ghost!" said Mr. McKenna, whereupon the +conversation drifted to those interesting phenomena. Mr. Dooley asked +Mr. McKenna if he had ever seen one. Mr. McKenna replied that he +hadn't, and didn't want to. Had Mr. Dooley? "No," said the +philosopher, "I niver did; an' it's always been more thin sthrange to +me that annywan shud come back afther he'd been stuck in a crate five +feet deep, with a ton iv mud upon him. 'Tis onplisint iv thim, +annyhow, not to say ongrateful. F'r mesilf, if I was wanst pushed off, +an' they'd waked me kindly, an' had a solemn rayqueem high mass f'r +me, an' a funeral with Roddey's Hi-beryan band, an' th' A-ho-aitches, +I have too much pride to come back f'r an encore. I wud so, Jawn. Whin +a man's dead, he ought to make th' best iv a bad job, an' not be +thrapsin' around, lookin' f'r throuble among his own kind. + +"No, I niver see wan, but I know there are such things; f'r twinty +years ago all th' road was talkin' about how Flaherty, th' tailor, +laid out th' ghost iv Tim O'Grady. O'Grady was a big sthrappin' +Connock man, as wide across th' shoulders as a freight car. He was a +plastherer be thrade whin wages was high, an' O'Grady was rowlin' in +wealth. Ivry Sundah ye'd see him, with his horse an' buggy an' his +goold watch an' chain, in front iv th' Sullivans' house, waitin' f'r +Mary Ann Sullivan to go f'r a buggy ride with him over to McAllister +Place; an' he fin'lly married her, again th' wishes iv Flaherty, who +took to histin' in dhrinks, an' missed his jooty, an' was a scandal in +th' parish f'r six months. + +"O'Grady didn't improve with mathrimony, but got to lanin' again th' +ol' stuff, an' walkin' up an' down th' sidewalk in his shirt-sleeves, +with his thumbs stuck in his vest, an' his little pipe turned upside +down; an', whin he see Flaherty, 'twas his custom to run him up an +alley, so that th' little tailor man niver had a minyit iv peace. Ivry +wan supposed he lived in a three most iv th' time, to be out iv th' +way iv O'Grady. + +"Well, wan day O'Grady he seen Flaherty walkin' down th' sthreet with +a pair iv lavender pants f'r Willum Joyce to wear to th' Ogden Grove +picnic, an' thried to heave a brick at him. He lost his balance, an' +fell fr'm th' scaffoldin' he was wurrukin' on; an' th' last wurruds he +said was, 'Did I get him or didn't I?' Mrs. O'Grady said it was th' +will iv Gawd; an' he was burrid at Calvary with a funeral iv eighty +hacks, an' a great manny people in their own buggies. Dorsey, th' +conthractor, was there with his wife. He thought th' wurruld an' all +iv O'Grady. + +"Wan year aftherward Flaherty begun makin' up to Mrs. O'Grady; an' +ivry wan in th' parish seen it, an' was glad iv it, an' said it was +scandalous. How it iver got out to O'Grady's pew in th' burryin' +ground, I'll niver tell ye, an' th' Lord knows; but wan evenin' th' +ghost iv O'Grady come back. Flaherty was settin' in th' parlor, +smokin' a seegar, with O'Grady's slippers on his feet, whin th' spook +come in in th' mos' natural way in the wurruld, kickin' th' dog. 'What +ar-re ye doin' here, ye little farryer iv pants?' he says. Mrs. +O'Grady was f'r faintin'; but O'Flaherty he says, says he: 'Be quite,' +he says, 'I'll dale with him.' Thin to th' ghost: 'Have ye paid th' +rint here, ye big ape?' he says. 'What d'ye mane be comin' back, whin +th' landlord ain't heerd fr'm ye f'r a year?' he says. Well, O'Grady's +ghost was that surprised he cud hardly speak. 'Ye ought to have +betther manners thin insultin' th' dead,' he says. 'Ye ought to have +betther manners thin to be lavin' ye'er coffin at this hour iv th' +night, an' breakin' in on dacint people,' says Flaherty. 'What good +does it do to have rayqueem masses f'r th' raypose iv th' like iv +you,' he says, 'that doesn't know his place?' he says. "I'm masther iv +this house,' says th' ghost. 'Not on ye'er life,' says Flaherty. 'Get +out iv here, or I'll make th' ghost iv a ghost out iv ye. I can lick +anny dead man that iver lived,' he said. + +"With that th' ghost iv O'Grady made a pass at him, an' they clinched +an' rowled on th' flure. Now a ghost is no aisy mark f'r anny man, an' +O'Grady's ghost was as sthrong as a cow. It had Flaherty down on th' +flure an' was feedin' him with a book they call th' 'Christyan +Martyrs,' whin Mrs. O'Grady put a bottle in Flaherty's hands. 'What's +this?' says Flaherty. 'Howly wather,' says Mrs. O'Grady. 'Sprinkle it +on him,' says Mrs. O'Grady. 'Woman,' says th' tailor between th' +chapter iv th' book, 'this is no time f'r miracles,' he says. An' he +give O'Grady's ghost a treminjous wallop on th' head. Now, whether it +was th' wather or th' wallop, I'll not tell ye; but, annyhow, th' +ghost give wan yell an' disappeared. An' th' very next Sundah, whin +Father Kelly wint into th' pulpit at th' gospel, he read th' names iv +Roger Kickham Flaherty an' Mary Ann O'Grady." + +"Did the ghost ever come back?" asked Mr. McKenna. + +"Niver," said Mr. Dooley. "Wanst was enough. But, mind ye, I'd hate to +have been wan iv th' other ghosts th' night O'Grady got home fr'm th' +visit to O'Flaherty's. There might be ghosts that cud stand him off +with th' gloves, but in a round an' tumble fight he cud lick a St. +Patrick's Day procession iv thim." + + + + +THE SOFT SPOT. + + +"Anny more cyclone news?" Mr. Dooley asked Mr. McKenna, as he came in +with a copy of an extra paper in his hand. + +"Nothing much," Mr. McKenna responded. "This paper says the angel of +death has give up riding on the whirlwind." + +"Tis betther so," said Mr. Dooley: "a bicycle is more satisfactory f'r +a steady thing. But, faith, 'tis no jokin' matter. May th' Lord +forgive me f'r makin' light iv it! Jawn, whin I read about thim poor +people down in St. Looey, sthruck be th' wrath iv Hivin' without more +warnin' thin a man gets in a Polock church fight an' swept to their +graves be th' hundherds, me heart ached in me. + +"But they'se always some compinsation in th' likes iv this. To see th' +wurruld as it r-runs along in its ordinrey coorse, with ivry man +seemin' to be lookin' f'r th' best iv it an' carryin' a little hammer +f'r his fellow-suff'rers, ye'd think what Hinnissy calls th' springs +iv human sympathy was as dhry in th' breast as a bricklayer's boot in +a box iv mortar. But let annything happen like this, an' men ye'd +suspect iv goin' round with a cold chisel liftin' name-plates off iv +coffins comes to th' front with their lips full iv comfort an' +kindliness an', what's more to th' point, their hands full iv coin. + +"Years ago there used to be a man be th' name iv O'Brien--no relation +iv th' sinitor--lived down be th' dumps. He was well off, an' had quit +wur-rkin' f'r a living. Well, whether he'd been disappointed in love +or just naturally had a kick up to him again th' wurruld I niver knew; +but this here ol' la-ad put in his time from morn till night handin' +out contimpt an' hathred to all mankind. No wan was harder to rent +fr'm. He had some houses near Halsted Sthreet, an' I've see him +servin' five days' notices on his tenants whin' th' weather was that +cold ye cudden't see th' inside iv th' furnace-rooms at th' mill f'r +th' frost on th' window. Of all th' landlords on earth, th' Lord +deliver me fr'm an' Irish wan. Whether 'tis that fr'm niver holdin' +anny land in th' ol' counthry they put too high a fondness on their +places whin they get a lot or two over here, I don't know; but they're +quicker with th' constable thin anny others. I've seen men, that 'd +divide their last cint with ye pay night, as hard, whin it come to +gather in th' rent f'r two rooms in th' rear, as if they was an Irish +peer's agents; an' O'Brien had no such start iv binivolence to go on. +He niver seemed to pass th' poor-box in church without wantin' to +break into it. He charged cint per cint whin Casey, th' plumber, +buried his wife an' borrid money f'r th' funeral expenses. I see him +wanst chasin' th' agent iv th' Saint Vincent de Pauls down th' road +f'r darin' to ask him f'r a contribution. To look at his har-rsh red +face, as he sat at his window markin' up his accounts, ye'd know he +was hard in th' bit an' heavy in th' hand. An' so he was,--as hard an' +heavy as anny man I iver seen in all me born days. + +"Well, Peter O'Brien had lived on long enough to have th' pious curses +iv th' entire parish, whin th' fire broke out, th' second fire iv +sivinty-four, whin th' damage was tin or twinty millions iv dollars +an' I lost a bull terrier be th' name iv Robert Immitt, r-runnin' +afther th' ingines. O'Brien disappeared fr'm th' r-road durin' th' +fire,--he had some property on th' South Side,--an' wasn't seen or +heerd tell iv f'r a day. Th' nex' mornin' th' rayport come in that he +was seen walkin' over th' red bridge with a baby in his arms. 'Glory +be!' says I: 'is th' man goin' to add canniballing to his other +crimes?' Sure enough, as I sthud in th' dureway, along come O'Brien, +with his hands scalded, his eyebrows gone, an' most iv his clothes +tore fr'm his back, but silent an' grim as iver, with a mite iv a girl +held tight to his breast, an' her fast asleep. + +"He had a house back iv my place,--he ownded th' fifty feet frontin' +on Grove Sthreet, bought it fr'm a man named Grogan,--an' 'twas +rinted be a widdy lady be th' name iv Sullivan, wife iv a bricklayer +iv th' same name. He was sthridin' into th' Widow Sullivan's house; +an' says he, 'Mistress Sullivan,' he says. 'Yes,' says she, in a +thremble, knottin' her apron in her hands an' standin' in front iv her +own little wans, 'what can I do f'r ye?' she says. 'Th' rent's not due +till to-morrow.' 'I very well know that,' he says; 'an' I want ye to +take care iv this wan', he says. 'An' I'll pay ye f'r ye'er throuble,' +he says. + +"We niver knew where he got th' child: he niver told annywan. Docthor +Casey said he was badly burnt about th' head an' hands. He testified +to it in a suit he brought again O'Brien f'r curin' him. F'r th' man +O'Brien, instead iv rayformin' like they do in th' play, was a long +sight meaner afther he done this wan thing thin iver befure. If he was +tight-fisted wanst, he was as close now as calcimine on a +rough-finished wall. He put his tinints out in th' cold without mercy, +he kicked blind beggars fr'm th' dure, an' on his dyin'-bed he come as +near bein' left be raison iv his thryin' to bargain with th' good man +f'r th' rayqueems as annywan ye iver see. But he raised th' little +girl; an' I sometimes think that, whin they count up th' cash, they'll +let O'Brien off with a character f'r that wan thing, though there's +some pretty hard tabs again him. + +"They ain't much point in what I've told ye more thin this,--that +beneath ivry man's outside coat there lies some good feelin'. We ain't +as bad as we make ourselves out. We've been stringin' ropes across th' +sthreet f'r th' people iv Saint Looey f'r thirty years an' handin' +thim bricks fr'm th' chimbleys whiniver we got a chance, but we've +on'y got wurruds an' loose change f'r thim whin th' hard times comes." + +"Yes," said Mr. McKenna, "I see even the aldhermen has come to the +front, offering relief." + +"Well," said Mr. Dooley, thoughtfully, "I on'y hope they won't go to +Saint Looey to disthri-bute it thimsilves. That would be a long sight +worse thin th' cyclone." + + + + +THE IRISHMAN ABROAD. + + +Mr. Dooley laid down his morning paper, and looked thoughtfully at the +chandeliers. + +"Taaffe," he said musingly,--"Taaffe--where th' divvle? Th' name's +familiar." + +"He lives in the Nineteenth," said Mr. McKenna. "If I remember right, +he has a boy on th' force." + +"Goowan," said Mr. Dooley, "with ye'er nineteenth wa-ards. Th' Taaffe +I mane is in Austhria. Where in all, where in all? No: yes, by gar, I +have it. A-ha! + + "But cur-rsed be th' day, + Whin Lord Taaffe grew faint-hearted + An sthud not n'r cha-arged, + But in panic depa-arted." + +"D'ye mind it,--th' pome by Joyce? No, not Bill Joyce. Joyce, th' Irish +pote that wrote th' pome about th' wa-ars whin me people raysisted +Cromwell, while yours was carryin' turf on their backs to make fires +for th' crool invader, as Finerty says whin th' sub-scriptions r-runs +low. 'Tis th' same name, a good ol' Meath name in th' days gone by; +an' be th' same token I have in me head that this here Count Taaffe, +whether he's an austrich or a canary bur-rd now, is wan iv th' ol' +fam'ly. There's manny iv thim in Europe an' all th' wurruld beside. +There was Pat McMahon, th' Frinchman, that bate Looey Napoleon; an' +O'Donnell, the Spanish juke; an' O'Dhriscoll an' Lynch, who do be th' +whole thing down be South America, not to mention Patsy Bolivar. Ye +can't go annywhere fr'm Sweden to Boolgahria without findin' a Turk +settin' up beside th' king an' dalin' out th' deek with his own hand. +Jawn, our people makes poor Irishmen, but good Dutchmen; an', th' more +I see iv thim, th' more I says to mesilf that th' rale boney fide +Irishman is no more thin a foreigner born away from home. 'Tis so. + +"Look at thim, Jawn," continued Mr. Dooley, becoming eloquent. "Whin +there's battles to be won, who do they sind for? McMahon or Shurdan or +Phil Kearney or Colonel Colby. Whin there's books to be wrote, who +writes thim but Char-les Lever or Oliver Goldsmith or Willum Carleton? +Whin there's speeches to be made, who makes thim but Edmund Burke or +Macchew P. Brady? There's not a land on th' face iv th' wurruld but +th' wan where an Irishman doesn't stand with his fellow-man, or above +thim. Whin th' King iv Siam wants a plisint evenin', who does he sind +f'r but a lively Kerry man that can sing a song or play a good hand at +spile-five? Whin th' Sultan iv Boolgahria takes tea, 'tis tin to wan +th' man across fr'm him is more to home in a caubeen thin in a turban. +There's Mac's an' O's in ivry capital iv Europe atin' off silver +plates whin their relations is staggerin' under th' creels iv turf in +th' Connaught bogs. + +"Wirra, 'tis hard. Ye'd sa-ay off hand, 'Why don't they do as much for +their own counthry?' Light-spoken are thim that suggests th' like iv +that. 'Tis asier said than done. Ye can't grow flowers in a granite +block, Jawn dear, much less whin th' first shoot 'd be thrampled under +foot without pity. 'Tis aisy f'r us over here, with our bellies full, +to talk iv th' cowardice iv th' Irish; but what would ye have wan man +iv thim do again a rig'mint? 'Tis little fightin' th' lad will want +that will have to be up before sunrise to keep th' smoke curlin' fr'm +th' chimbley or to patch th' rush roof to keep out th' March rain. No, +faith, Jawn, there's no soil in Ireland f'r th' greatness iv th' race; +an' there has been none since th' wild geese wint across th' say to +France, hangin' like flies to th' side iv th' Fr-rinch ship. 'Tis only +f'r women an' childher now, an' thim that can't get away. Will th' +good days ever come again? says ye. Who knows!" + + + + +THE SERENADE. + + +"By dad, if it wasn't f'r that there Molly Donahue," said Mr. Dooley +to Mr. McKenna, "half th' life 'd be gone out iv Bridgeport." "What +has Molly Donahue been doin'?" asked Mr. McKenna. + +"She have been causin' Felix Pindergasht to be sint to th' Sisters iv +Mercy Hospital with inflammathry rhoomatism. Ye know Felix. He is a +musical janius. Before he was tin year old he had me mind disthracted +be playin' wan iv thim little mouth organs on th' corner near me +bedroom window. Thin he larned to play th' ack-car-jeen, an' cud swing +it between his legs an' give an imitation iv th' cathedral bell that +'d make ye dig in ye'er pocket to see iv ye had a dime f'r a seat. +Thin he used to sit in his window in his shirt-sleeves, blowin' 'Th' +Vale iv Avoca' on a cornet. He was wan whole month before he cud get +th' 'shall fade fr'm me heart' right. Half th' neighborhood 'd be out +on th' sidewalk yellin' 'Lift it, Felix,--lift an' scatther it. Shall +fade fr'm me ha-a-rt,--lift it, ye clumsy piper.' + +"A few months back th' stupid gawk begun to be attintive to Molly +Donahue, an', like th' wild wan she is, she dhrew him on. Did ye iver +see th' wan that wudden't? Faith, they're all alike. If it ain't a +sthraight stick, it's a crooked wan; an' th' man was niver yet born, +if he had a hump on his back as big as coal-scuttle an' had a face +like th' back iv a hack, that cudden't get th' wink iv th' eye fr'm +some woman. They're all alike, all alike. Not that I've annything +again thim: 'tis thim that divides our sorrows an' doubles our joys, +an' sews chiny buttons on our pa-ants an' mends our shirts with blue +yarn. But they'll lead a man to desthruction an' back again, thim same +women. + +"Well, Felix had no luck coortin' Molly Donahue. Wan night she wasn't +in; an' th' nex' night ol' man Donahue come to th' dure, an' says, 'Ye +can put in th' coal at th' back dure,' he says, an' near broke th' +la-ad's heart. Las' week he pulled himself together, an' wint up th' +r-road again. He took his cornet with him in a green bag; an', whin he +got in front iv Donahue's house, he outs with th' horn, an' begins to +play. Well, sir, at th' first note half th' block was in th' sthreet. +Women come fr'm their houses, with their shawls on their heads; an' +all th' forty-fives games was broke up be raison iv th' la-ads lavin' +f'r to hear the music. Befure Felix had got fairly started f'r to +serrynade Molly Donahue, th' crowd was big an' boistherous. He started +on th' ol' favor-ite, 'Th' Vale iv Avoca'; an' near ivry man in th' +crowd had heerd him practisin' it. He wint along splendid till he come +to 'shall fade fr'm me heart,' an' thin he broke, 'Thry again,' says +th' crowd; an' he stharted over. He done no betther on th' second +whirl. 'Niver say die, Felix,' says th' crowd. "Go afther it. We're +all with ye.' At that th' poor, deluded loon tackled it again; an' th' +crowd yells: 'Hist it up. There ye go. No, be hivins he fell at th' +last jump.' An', by dad, though he thried f'r half an hour, he cud not +land th' 'shall fade fr'm me heart.' At th' last break th' light in +Molly Donahue's window wint out, an' th' crowd dispersed. Felix was +discons'late. 'I had it right befure I come up,' he says, 'but I +missed me holt whin th' crowd come. Me heart's broke,' he says. 'Th' +cornet's not ye'er insthrument,' says Dorsey. 'Ye shud thry to play +th' base dhrum. It's asier.'" + +"Is that all that's going on?" asked Mr. McKenna. + +"That an' th' death iv wan iv Hinnissy's goats,--Marguerite. No, no, +not that wan. That's Odalia. Th' wan with th' brown spots. That's her. +She thried to ate wan iv thim new theayter posthers, an' perished in +great ag'ny. They say th' corpse turned red at th' wake, but ye can't +believe all ye hear." + + + + +THE HAY FLEET. + + +Mr. Dooley had been reading about General Shafter's unfortunately +abandoned enterprise for capturing Santiago by means of a load of hay, +and it filled him with great enthusiasm. Laying down his paper, he +said: "By dad, I always said they give me frind Shafter th' worst iv +it. If they'd left him do th' job th' way he wanted to do it, he'd +'ve taken Sandago without losin' an ounce." + +"How was it he wanted to do it?" Mr. Hennessy asked. + +"Well," said Mr. Dooley, "'twas this way. This is th' way it was. Ol' +Cervera's fleet was in th' harbor an' bottled up, as th' man says. +Shafter he says to Sampson: 'Look here, me bucko, what th' divvle +ar-re ye loafin' ar-round out there f'r,' he says, 'like a dep'ty +sheriff at a prize fight?' he says. 'Why don't ye go in, an' smash th' +Castiles?' he says. 'I'm doin' well where I am,' says Sampson. 'Th' +navy iv th' United States,' he says, 'which is wan iv th' best, if not +th' best, in th' wurruld,' he says, 'was not,' he says, 'intinded f'r +sthreet fightin',' he says. 'We'll stay here,' he says, 'where we +ar-re,' he says, 'until,' he says, 'we can equip th' ships with +noomatic tire wheels,' he says, 'an' ball bearin's,' he says. + +"'Well,' says Shafter, 'if ye won't go in,' he says, 'we'll show ye +th' way,' he says. An' he calls on Cap Brice, that was wan iv th' +youngest an' tastiest dhressers in th' whole crool an' devastatin' +war. 'Cap,' he says, 'is they anny hay in th' camp?' he says. +'Slathers iv it,' says th' cap. 'Onless,' he says, 'th' sojers et it,' +he says. 'Th' las' load iv beef that come down fr'm th' undhertakers,' +he says, 'was not good,' he says. 'Ayether,' he says, ''twas +improperly waked,' he says, 'or,' he says, 'th' pall-bearers was +careless,' he says. 'Annyhow,' he says, 'th' sojers won't eat it; an', +whin I left, they was lookin' greedily at th' hay,' he says. 'Cap,' +says Gin'ral Shafter, 'if anny man ates a wisp, shoot him on th' +spot,' he says. 'Those hungry sojers may desthroy me hopes iv +victhry,' he says. 'What d'ye mane?' says Cap Brice. 'I mane this,' +says Gin'ral Shafter. 'I mane to take yon fortress,' he says. 'I'll +sind ye in, Cap,' he says, 'in a ship protected be hay,' he says. 'Her +turrets 'll be alfalfa, she'll have three inches iv solid timithy to +th' water line, an' wan inch iv th' best clover below th' wather +line,' he says. 'Did ye iver see an eight-inch shell pinithrate a bale +iv hay?' he says. 'I niver did,' says Cap Brice. 'Maybe that was +because I niver see it thried,' he says. 'Be that as it may,' says +Gin'ral Shafter, 'ye niver see it done. No more did I,' he says. +'Onless,' he says, 'they shoot pitchforks,' he says, 'they'll niver +hur-rt ye,' he says. 'Ye'll be onvincible,' he says. 'Ye'll pro-ceed +into th' harbor,' he says, 'behind th' sturdy armor iv projuce,' he +says. 'Let ye'er watchword be "Stay on th' far-rm," an' go on to +victhry,' he says. 'Gin'ral,' says Cap Brice, 'how can I thank ye f'r +th' honor?' he says. ''Tis no wondher th' men call ye their fodder,' +he says. 'Twas a joke Cap Brice med at th' time. 'I'll do th' best I +can,' he says; 'an', if I die in th' attempt,' he says, 'bury me where +the bran-mash 'll wave over me grave,' he says. + +"An' Gin'ral Shafter he got together his fleet, an' put th' armor on +it. 'Twas a formidable sight. They was th' cruiser 'Box Stall,' full +armored with sixty-eight bales iv th' finest grade iv chopped feed; +th' 'R-red Barn,' a modhern hay battleship, protected be a whole mow +iv timothy; an' th' gallant little 'Haycock,' a torpedo boat shootin' +deadly missiles iv explosive oats. Th' expedition was delayed be wan +iv th' mules sthrollin' down to th' shore an' atin' up th' afther +batthry an' par-rt iv th' ram iv th' 'R-red Barn' an', befure repairs +was made, Admiral Cervera heerd iv what was goin' on. 'Glory be to the +saints,' he says, 'what an injaynious thribe these Yankees is!' says +he. 'On'y a few weeks ago they thried to desthroy me be dumpin' a load +iv coal on me,' he says; 'an' now,' he says, 'they're goin' to +smother me in feed,' he says. 'They'll be rollin' bar'ls iv flour on +me fr'm th' heights next,' he says. 'I'd betther get out,' he says. +''Tis far nobler,' he says, 'to purrish on th' ragin' main,' he says, +'thin to die with ye'er lungs full iv hayseed an' ye'er eyes full iv +dust,' he says. 'I was born in a large city,' he says; 'an' I don't +know th' rules iv th' barn,' he says. An' he wint out, an' took his +lickin'. + +"'Twas too bad Shafter didn't get a chanst at him, but he's give th' +tip to th' la-ads that makes th' boats. No more ixpinsive steel an' +ir'n, but good ol' grass fr'm th' twinty-acre meadow. Th' ship-yards +'ll be moved fr'm th' say, an' laid down in th' neighborhood iv Polo, +Illinye, an' all th' Mississippi Valley 'll ring with th' sound iv th' +scythe an' th' pitchfork buildin' th' definse iv our counthry's honor. +Thank th' Lord, we've winrows an' winrows iv Shafter's armor plate +between here an' Dubuque." + +Mr. Hennessy said good-night. "As me cousin used to say," he remarked, +"we're through with wan hell iv a bad year, an' here goes f'r another +like it." + +"Well," said Mr. Dooley, "may th' Lord niver sind us a foolisher wan +than this!" + + + + +THE PERFORMANCES OF LIEUTENANT HOBSON. + + +"If I'd been down to th' Audjitooroom th' other night," said Mr. +Hennessy, "an' had a chunk iv coal fr'm th' sunk 'Merrimac,' I'd iv +handed it to that man Loot Hobson. I wud so. Th' idee iv a hero +standin' up befure thousan's iv men with fam'lies an' bein' assaulted +be ondacint females. It med me blush down to th' soles iv me feet. If +they let this thing go on, be hivins, why do they stop th' +hootchy-kootchy?" + +"Ividinces iv affection is always odjious to an Irishman," said Mr. +Dooley, "an' to all reel affectionate people. But me frind Hobson's +not to blame. 'Tis th' way th' good Lord has iv makin' us cow'rds +continted with our lot that he niver med a brave man yet that wasn't +half a fool. I've more sinse an' wisdom in th' back iv me thumb thin +all th' heroes in th' wurruld. That's why I ain't a hero. If Hobson +had intilligence, he'd be wurrukin' in th' post-office; an', if anny +ol' hin thried to kiss him, he'd call f'r th' polis. Bein' young an' +foolish, whin me frind Sampson says, 'Is there anny man here that 'll +take this ol' coal barge in beyant an' sink it, an' save us th' +throuble iv dhrownin' on our way home?' Loot Hobson says, says he: +'Here I am, Cap,' says he. 'I'll take it in,' he says, 'an' seal up +th' hated Castiles,' he says, 'so that they can niver get out,' he +says. 'But,' he says, 'I'll lave a hole f'r thim to get out whin they +want to get out,' he says. An' he tuk some other la-ads,--I f'rget +their names,--they wasn't heroes, annyhow, but was wurrukin' be th' +day; an' he wint in in his undherclothes, so's not to spoil his suit, +an' th' Castiles hurled death an' desthruction on him. An' it niver +touched him no more thin it did anny wan else; an' thin they riscued +him fr'm himsilf, an' locked him up in th' polis station an' fed him +th' best they knew how. An' he wint on a lecther tour, an' here he is. +Be hivins, I think he's more iv a hero now thin iver he was. I'd stand +up befure a cross-eyed Spanish gunner an' take his shootin' without a +mask mesilf; but I'd shy hard if anny ol' heifer come up, an' thried +to kiss me. + +"On th' flure iv th' 'Merrimac,' in his light undherclothes, Loot +Hobson was a sthrong, foolish man. On th' stage iv th' Audjitooroom, +bein' caressed be women that 'd kiss th' Indyun in front iv a see-gar +sthore, if he didn't carry a tommyhawk, he's still foolish, but not +sthrong. 'Tis so with all heroes. Napolyeon Bonyparte, th' Impror iv +th' Fr-rinch, had manny carryin's on, I've heerd tell; an' ivry man +knows that, whin Jawn Sullivan wasn't in th' r-ring, he was no +incyclopedja f'r intelligence. No wan thried to kiss him, though. They +knew betther. + +"An' Hobson 'll larn. He's young yet, th' Loot is; an' he's goin' out +to th' Ph'lippeens to wurruk f'r Cousin George. Cousin George is no +hero, an' 'tisn't on record that anny wan iver thried to scandalize +his good name be kissin' him. I'd as lave, if I was a foolish woman, +which, thanks be, I'm not, hug a whitehead torpedo as Cousin George. +He'll be settin' up on th' roof iv his boat, smokin' a good see-gar, +an' wondhrin' how manny iv th' babbies named afther him 'll be in th' +pinitinchry be th' time he gets back home. Up comes me br-rave Hobson. +'Who ar-re ye, disturbin' me quite?' says Cousin George. 'I'm a hero,' +says th' Loot. 'Ar-re ye, faith?' says Cousin George. 'Well,' he says, +'I can't do annything f'r ye in that line,' he says. 'All th' hero +jobs on this boat,' he says, 'is compitintly filled,' he says, 'be +mesilf,' he says. 'I like to see th' wurruk well done,' he says, 'so,' +he says, 'I don't thrust it to anny wan,' he says. 'With th' aid iv a +small boy, who can shovel more love letthers an' pothry overboard thin +anny wan I iver see,' he says, 'I'm able to clane up me hero business +before noon ivry day,' he says. 'What's ye'er name?' he says. +'Hobson,' says th' loot. 'Niver heerd iv ye, says Cousin George. +'Where 'd ye wurruk last?' 'Why,' says th' Loot, 'I'm th' man that sunk +th' ship,' he says; 'an' I've been kissed be hundherds iv women at +home,' he says. 'Is that so?' says Cousin George. 'Well, I don't +b'lieve in sinkin' me own ship,' he says. 'Whin I'm lookin' f'r a +divarsion iv that kind, I sink somebody else's,' he says. ''Tis +cheaper. As f'r th' other thing,' he says, 'th' less ye say about +that, th' betther,' he says. 'If some iv these beauchious Ph'lippeen +belles ar-round here hears,' he says, 'that ye're in that line, they +may call on ye to give ye a chaste salute,' he says, 'an',' he says, +'f'rget,' he says, 'to take th' see-gars out iv their mouths,' he +says. 'Ye desthroyed a lot iv coal, ye tell me,' he says. 'Do ye,' he +says, 'go downstairs now, an' shovel up a ton or two iv it,' he says. +'Afther which,' he says, 'ye can roll a kag iv beer into me bedroom,' +he says; 'f'r 'tis dhry wurruk settin' up here watchin' ixpansion +ixpand,' he says. + +"That's what Cousin George 'll say to th' Loot. An', whin th' Loot +comes back, he won't be a hero anny more; an', if anny woman thries to +kiss him, he'll climb a three. Cousin George 'll make a man iv him. +'Tis kicks, not kisses, that makes men iv heroes." + +"Well, mebbe ye're r-right," said Mr. Hennessy. "He's nawthin' but a +kid, annyhow,--no oldher thin me oldest boy; an' I know what a fool +he'd be if anny wan ast him to be more iv a fool thin he is. Hobson +'ll be famous, no matther what foolish things he does." + +"I dinnaw," said Mr. Dooley. "It was headed f'r him; but I'm afraid, +as th' bull-yard players 'd say, fame's been kissed off." + + + + +THE DECLINE OF NATIONAL FEELING. + + +"What ar-re ye goin' to do Patrick's Day?" asked Mr. Hennessy. + +"Patrick's Day?" said Mr. Dooley. "Patrick's Day? It seems to me I've +heard th' name befure. Oh, ye mane th' day th' low Irish that hasn't +anny votes cillybrates th' birth iv their naytional saint, who was a +Fr-rinchman." + +"Ye know what I mane," said Mr. Hennessy, with rising wrath. "Don't ye +get gay with me now." + +"Well," said Mr. Dooley, "I may cillybrate it an' I may not. I'm +thinkin' iv savin' me enthusyasm f'r th' queen's birthday, whiniver it +is that that blessid holiday comes ar-round. Ye see, Hinnissy, +Patrick's Day is out iv fashion now. A few years ago ye'd see the +Prisident iv th' United States marchin' down Pinnsylvanya Avnoo, with +the green scarf iv th' Ancient Ordher on his shoulders an' a shamrock +in his hat. Now what is Mack doin'? He's settin' in his parlor, +writin' letthers to th' queen, be hivins, askin' afther her health. He +was fr'm th' north iv Ireland two years ago, an' not so far north +ayether,--just far enough north f'r to be on good terms with Derry an' +not far enough to be bad frinds with Limerick. He was raised on +butthermilk an' haggis, an' he dhrank his Irish nate with a dash iv +orange bitthers in it. He's been movin' steadily north since; an', if +he keeps on movin', he'll go r-round th' globe, an' bring up somewhere +in th' south iv England. + +"An' Hinnery Cabin Lodge! I used to think that Hinnery would niver die +contint till he'd took th' Prince iv Wales be th' hair iv th' +head,--an' 'tis little th' poor man's got,--an' dhrag him fr'm th' +tower iv London to Kilmainham Jail, an' hand him over to th' tindher +mercies, as Hogan says, iv Michael Davitt. Thim was th' days whin ye'd +hear Hinnery in th' Sinit, spreadin' fear to th' hear-rts iv th' +British aristocracy. 'Gintlemen,' he says, 'an' fellow-sinitors, th' +time has come,' he says, 'whin th' eagle burrud iv freedom,' he says, +'lavin',' he says, 'its home in th' mountains,' he says, 'an' +circlin',' he says, 'undher th' jool 'd hivin,' he says, 'fr'm where,' +he says, 'th' Passamaquoddy rushes into Lake Erastus K. Ropes,' he +says, 'to where rowls th' Oregon,' he says, 'fr'm th' lakes to th' +gulf,' he says, 'fr'm th' Atlantic to th' Passific where rowls th' +Oregon,' he says, 'an' fr'm ivry American who has th' blood iv his +ancesthors' hathred iv tyranny in his veins,--your ancesthors an' +mine, Mr. McAdoo,' he says,--'there goes up a mute prayer that th' +nation as wan man, fr'm Bangor, Maine, to where rowls th' Oregon, +that,' he says, 'is full iv salmon, which is later put up in cans, but +has th' same inthrest as all others in this question,' he says, +'that,' he says, 'th' descindants iv Wash'nton an',' he says, 'iv +Immitt,' he says, 'will jine hands f'r to protect,' he says, 'th' +codfisheries again th' Vandal hand iv th' British line,' he says. 'I +therefore move ye, Mr. Prisident, that it is th' sinse iv this house, +if anny such there be, that Tay Pay O'Connor is a greater man thin +Lord Salisberry,' he says. + +"Now where's Hinnery? Where's th' bould Fenian? Where's th' +moonlighter? Where's th' pikeman? Faith, he's changed his chune, an' +'tis 'Sthrangers wanst, but brothers now,' with him, an' 'Hands acrost +th' sea an' into some wan's pocket,' an' 'Take up th' white man's +burden an' hand it to th' coons,' an' 'An open back dure an' a closed +fr-ront dure.' 'Tis th' same with all iv thim. They'se me frind Joe +Choate. Where 'd Joe spind th' night? Whisper, in Windsor Castle, no +less, in a night-shirt iv th' Prince iv Wales; an' the nex' mornin', +whin he come downstairs, they tol' him th' rile fam'ly was late +risers, but, if he wanted a good time, he cud go down an' look at th' +cimitry! An' he done it. He went out an' wept over th' grave iv th' +Father iv his Counthry. Ye'er man, George Washington, Hinnissy, was +on'y th' stepfather. + +"Well, glory be, th' times has changed since me frind Jawn Finerty +come out iv th' House iv Riprisintatives; an', whin some wan ast him +what was goin' on, he says, 'Oh, nawthin' at all but some damned +American business.' Thim was th' days! An' what's changed thim? Well, +I might be sayin' 'twas like wanst whin me cousin Mike an' a Kerry man +be th' name iv Sullivan had a gredge again a man named Doherty, that +was half a Kerry man himsilf. They kept Doherty indures f 'r a day, +but by an' by me cousin Mike lost inthrest in th' gredge, havin' +others that was newer, an' he wint over to th' ya-ards; an' Doherty +an' Sullivan begin to bow to each other, an' afther a while they found +that they were blood relations, an', what's closer thin that whin +ye're away fr'm home, townies. An' they hooked arms, an' sthrutted up +an' down th' road, as proud as imprors. An' says they, 'We can lick +annything in th' ward,' says they. But, before they injyed th' +'lieance f'r long, around th' corner comes me cousin Mike, with a +half-brick in each hand; an' me brave Sullivan gives Doherty th' Kerry +man's thrip, an' says he, 'Mike,' he says, 'I was on'y pullin' him on +to give ye a crack at him,' he says. An' they desthroyed Doherty, so +that he was in bed f'r a week." + +"Well, I wondher will Mike come back?" said Mr. Hennessy. + +"Me cousin Mike," said Mr. Dooley, "niver missed an iliction. An' whin +th' campaign opened, there wasn't a man on th' ticket, fr'm mayor to +constable, that didn't claim him f'r a first cousin. There are +different kinds iv hands from acrost th' sea. There are pothry hands +an' rollin'-mill hands; but on'y wan kind has votes." + + + + +"CYRANO DE BERGERAC." + + +"Ivry winter Hogan's la-ad gives a show with what he calls th' Sixth +Wa-ard Shakspere an' Willum J. Bryan Club, an' I was sayjooced into +goin' to wan las' night at Finucane's hall," said Mr. Dooley. + +"Th' girls was goin'," said Mr. Hennessy; "but th' sthovepipe come +down on th' pianny, an' we had a minsthrel show iv our own. What was +it about, I dinnaw?" + +"Well, sir," said Mr. Dooley, "I ain't much on th' theayter. I niver +wint to wan that I didn't have to stand where I cud see a man in blue +overalls scratchin' his leg just beyant where the heeroyne was prayin' +on th' palace stairs, an' I don't know much about it; but it seemed to +me, an' it seemed to Hartigan, th' plumber, that was with me, that +'twas a good play if they'd been a fire in th' first act. They was a +lot iv people there; an', if it cud 've been arranged f'r to have +injine company fifteen with Cap'n Duffy at th' head iv thim come in +through a window an' carry off th' crowd, 'twud've med a hit with me. + +"'Tis not like anny play I iver see before or since. In 'Tur-rble Tom; +or, th' Boys iv Ninety-eight,' that I see wanst, th' man that's th' +main guy iv th' thing he waits till ivry wan has said what he has to +say, an' he has a clean field; an' thin he jumps in as th' man that +plays th' big dhrum gives it an upper cut. But with this here play iv +'Cyrus O'Bergerac' 'tis far diff'rent. Th' curtain goes up an' shows +Bill Delaney an' little Tim Scanlan an' Mark Toolan an' Packy Dugan, +that wurruks in the shoe store, an' Molly Donahue an' th' Casey +sisters, thim that scandalized th' parish be doin' a skirt dance at +th' fair, all walkin' up an' down talkin'. 'Tin to wan on Sharkey,' +says Toolan. 'I go ye, an' make it a hundherd,' says Tim Scanlan. 'Was +ye at th' cake walk?' 'Who stole me hat?' 'Cudden't ye die waltzin'?' +'They say Murphy has gone on th' foorce.' 'Hivins, there goes th' las' +car!' 'Pass th' butther, please: I'm far fr'm home.' All iv thim +talkin' away at once, niver carin' f'r no wan, whin all at wanst up +stheps me bold Hogan with a nose on him,--glory be, such a nose! I +niver see th' like on a man or an illyphant. + +"Well, sir, Hogan is Cy in th' play; an' th' beak is pa-art iv him. +What does he do? He goes up to Toolan, an' says he: 'Ye don't like me +nose. It's an ilicthric light globe. Blow it out. It's a Swiss cheese. +Cut it off, if ye want to. It's a brick in a hat. Kick it. It's a +balloon. Hang a basket on it, an' we'll have an' ascinsion. It's a +dure-bell knob. Ring it. It's a punchin' bag. Hit it, if ye dahr. F'r +two pins I'd push in th' face iv ye.' An', mind ye, Hinnissy, Toolan +had said not wan wurrud about th' beak,--not wan wurrud. An' ivry wan +in th' house was talkin' about it, an' wondhrin' whin it 'd come off +an' smash somewan's fut. I looked f'r a fight there an' thin. But +Toolan's a poor-spirited thing, an' he wint away. At that up comes +Scanlan; an' says he: 'Look here, young fellow,' he says, 'don't get +gay,' he says, 'don't get gay,' he says. 'What's that?' says Hogan. +Whin a man says, 'What's that?' in a bar-room, it manes a fight, if he +says it wanst. If he says it twict, it manes a fut race. 'I say,' says +Scanlan, 'that, if ye make anny more funny cracks, I'll hitch a horse +to that basket fender,' he says, 'an' dhrag it fr'm ye,' he says. At +that Hogan dhrew his soord, an' says he: 'Come on,' he says, 'come on, +an' take a lickin,' he says. An' Scanlan dhrew his soord, too. 'Wait,' +says Hogan. 'Wait a minyit,' he says. 'I must think,' he says. 'I must +think a pome,' he says. 'Whiniver I fight,' he says, 'I always have a +pome,' he says. 'Glory be,' says I, 'there's Scanlan's chanst to give +it to him,' I says. But Scanlan was as slow as a dhray; an', before he +cud get action, Hogan was at him, l'adin' with th' pome an' counthrin' +with the soord. 'I'll call this pome,' he says, 'a pome about a gazabo +I wanst had a dool with in Finucane's hall,' he says. 'I'll threat ye +r-right,' he says, 'an' at the last line I'll hand ye wan,' he says. +An' he done it. 'Go in,' he says in th' pome, 'go in an' do ye'er +worst,' he says. 'I make a pass at ye'er stomach,' he says, 'I cross +ye with me right,' he says; 'an,' he says at th' last line, he says, +'I soak ye,' he says. An' he done it. Th' minyit 'twas over with th' +pome 'twas off with Scanlan. Th' soord wint into him, an' he sunk down +to th' flure; an' they had to carry him off. Well, sir, Hogan was that +proud ye cudden't hold him f'r th' rest iv th' night. He wint around +ivrywhere stickin' people an' soakin' thim with pothry. He's a gr-reat +pote is this here Hogan, an' a gr-reat fighter. He done thim all at +both; but, like me ol' frind Jawn L., he come to th' end. A man +dhropped a two-be-four on his head wan day, an' he died. Honoria Casey +was with him as he passed away, an' she says, 'How d'ye feel?' 'All +right,' says Hogan. 'But wan thing I'll tell ye has made life worth +livin',' he says. 'What's that?' says Miss Casey. 'I know,' says I. +'Annywan cud guess it. He manes his nose,' I says. But ivrywan on th' +stage give it up. 'Ye don't know,' says Hogan. ''Tis me hat,' he says; +an', makin a low bow to th' aujience, he fell to th' flure so hard +that his nose fell off an' rowled down on Mike Finnegan. 'I don't like +th' play,' says Finnegan, 'an' I'll break ye'er nose,' he says; an' he +done it. He's a wild divvle. Hogan thried to rayturn th' compliment on +th' sidewalk afterward; but he cudden't think iv a pome, an' Finnegan +done him." + +"Well, said Mr. Hennessy, "I'd like to've been there to see th' +fightin'." + +"In th' play?" asked Mr. Dooley. + +"No," said Mr. Hennessy. "On th' sidewalk." + + + + +THE UNION OF TWO GREAT FORTUNES. + + +"They'se wan thing that always makes me feel sure iv what Hogan calls +th' safety iv our dimmycratic institutions," said Mr. Dooley, "an' +that's th' intherest th' good people iv New York takes in a weddin' iv +th' millyionaires. Anny time a millyionaire condiscinds to enther th' +martial state, as Hogan says, an', as Hogan says, make vows to Hyman, +which is the Jew god iv marredge, he can fill th' house an' turn +people away fr'm th' dure. An' he does. Th' sthreets is crowded. Th' +cars can har'ly get through. Th' polis foorce is out, an' hammerin' +th' heads iv th' delighted throng. Riprisintatives iv th' free an' +inlightened press, th' pollutyem iv our liberties, as Hogan says, +bright, intilligent young journalists, iver ready to probe fraud an' +sham, disgeezed as waithers, is dashin' madly about, makin' notes on +their cuffs. Business is suspinded. They'se no money in Wall Sthreet. +It's all at th' sacred scene. Hour be hour, as th' prisints ar-re +delivered, th' bank rates go up. Th' Threeasury Departmint has to go +on a silver basis, there bein' no goold to mannyfacther into plunks. + +"Inside th' house th' prisints cast a goolden gleam on th' beauchious +scene. Th' happy father is seen seated at a table, dictattin' +millyion-dollar checks to a stinographer. Th' goold chandeliers is +draped with r-ropes iv dimon's an' pearls. Th' hired girl is passin' +dhrinks in goolden goblets. Twinty firemen fr'm th' New York Cinthral +Railroad is shovellin' dimon'-studded pickle crutes into th' back +yard, among th' yachts an' horses. Chansy Depoo enthers an' thrips +over a box iv bonds. 'Ar-re these th' holy bonds iv mathrimony?' he +says; f'r he is a wild divvle, an' ye can't stop his jokin', avin on +solemn occasions. + +"Th' soggarth comes in afther a while, carryin' a goold prayer-book, +th' gift iv th' Rothscheelds, an' stands behind a small but vallyable +pree Doo. To th' soft, meelojous chune iv th' Wagner Palace Weddin' +March fr'm 'Long Green,' th' groom enthers, simply but ixpinsively +attired in governmint fours, an' fannin' himsilf with a bunch iv first +morgedge bonds. + +"Th' prayers f'r th' occasion, printed on negotyable paper, is +disthributed among th' guests. Th' bride was delayed be th' crowd +outside. Women screamed an' waved their handkerchefs, sthrong men +cheered an' wept; an' 'twas not until th' polis had clubbed tin hardy +pathrites to death that th' lady cud enther th' house where her fate +was to be sealed. But fin'lly she med it; an' th' two happy, happy +childher, whose sunshiny youth riprisinted five thousan' miles iv +thrack, eight goold mines, wan hundherd millyion dollars' worth iv +rollin' stock, an' a majority intherest in th' Chicago stock yards, +was r-ready f'r th' nicissary thransfers that wud establish th' +combination. + +"Th' ceremony was brief, but intherestin'. Th' happy father foorced +his way through dimon' stomachers; an' they was tears in his eyes as +he handed th' clargyman, whose name was Murphy,--but he carried +himsilf as well as if he was used to it,--handed him a check f'r tin +millyion dollars. I don't blame him. Divvle th' bit! Me own hear-rt is +har-rd an' me eyes ar-re dhry, but I'd break down if I had to hand +anny wan that much. 'I suppose th' check is good,' says th' clargyman, +''Tis certified,' says th' weepin' father. 'Do ye take this check,' +says th' clargyman, 'to have an' to hold, until some wan parts ye fr'm +it?' he says. 'I do,' says th' young man. 'Thin,' says th' clargyman, +'I see no reason why ye shudden't be marrid an' live comfortable,' he +says. An' marrid they were, in th' same ol' foolish way that people's +been marrid in f'r cinchries. 'Tis a wondher to me th' ceremony ain't +changed. Th' time is comin', Hinnissy, whin millyionaires 'll not be +marrid be Father Murphy, but be th' gov'nors iv th' stock exchange. +They'll be put through th' clearin' house, me faith, an' securities +'ll be issued be th' combination. Twinty-year, goold-secured, four +per cint bonds iv mathrimony! Aha, 'tis a joke that Chansy Depoo +might 've med! + +"Th' crowd outside waited, cheerin' an' fightin' th' polis. In this +here land iv liberty an' akequality, Hinnissy, ivry man is as good as +ivry other man, except a polisman. An' it showed how thrue th' people +in New York is to th' thraditions iv Jefferson that divvle a wan iv +thim 'd move away till th' check 'd been passed fr'm father to son, an' +th' important part iv th' sacred ceremony was over. Thin a few iv thim +wint home to cook dinner f'r their husbands, who was previnted be +their jooties at th' gas-house fr'm attindin' th' function. Th' rest +raymained an' see th' two gr-reat fortunes get into their carredge, +pursued be th' guests to th' amount iv five hundherd millyions, +peltin' thim with seed pearls." + +"Sure," said Mr. Hennessy, "mebbe 'twasn't as bad as th' pa-apers let +on. Ye can't always thrust thim." + +"P'rhaps not," said Mr. Dooley. "Th' pa-apers say, 'Two gr-reat +fortunes united'; an', if that's it, they didn't need th' sarvices iv +a priest, but a lawyer an' a thrust comp'ny. P'rhaps, with all th' +certyfied checks, 'twas two rale people that was marrid; an', if +that's so, it explains th' prisince if Father Murphy." + + + + +THE DREYFUS CASE. + +I. + + +"Th' scene was treemenjously excitin'. Th' little city iv Rennes was +thronged with des'prit journalists that had pledged their fortunes an' +their sacred honors, an' manny iv thim their watches, to be prisint +an' protect th' public again th' degradin' facts. Niver since th' war +in Cubia has so manny iv these brave fellows been gathered together at +th' risk iv their lives fr'm overcrowdin' th' resthrants. No wan has +iver sufficiently described th' turrors iv a corryspondint's life +excipt th' corryspondints thimsilves. Gin'rals an' other liars is +rewarded. Th' corryspondint gets no credit. No wan will give him +credit. Still he sticks to his post; an' on this pearlous day he was +at Rennes, fightin' th' other corryspondints, or, if he was an English +journalist, defindin' th' honor iv Fr-rance again hersilf. 'Tis a good +thing for Fr-rance that there ar-re silf-sacrificin' men that don't +undherstand her language, to presint her vicious nature to th' English +an' American public. Otherwise, Hinnissy, she might think she was as +good as th' rest iv us. + +"Well, while th' sthreets in Rennes was packed with these dauntless +souls, ar-rmed with death-dealin' kodaks, there was a commotion near +th' coort-house. Was it a rivolution? Was this th' beginnin' iv +another Saint Barth'mew's Day, whin th' degraded passions in Fr-rance, +pent up durin' three hundherd years, 'd break forth again? Was it th' +signal iv another div'lish outbreak that 'd show th' thrue nature iv +th' Fr-rinch people, disgeezed behind a varnish iv ojoous politeness +which our waiters know nawthin' about? No, alas! alas! 'twas nawthin' +a man cud make more thin a column iv. 'Twas th' ac-cursed janitor +goin' in to open th' degraded windows. Abase th' janitor, abase th' +windows! Fear followed uncertainty. No wan knew what moment he might +be called upon to defind his life with his honor. Suddenly th' brutal +polisman who sthud on gyard waved his hand. What cud the brave men do? +They were obliged to rethreat in disordher. But our special +corryspondint was able f'r to obtain a fine view of th' thrillin' +scene that followed. First came th' coort, weepin'. They was followed +be th' gin'rals in th' Fr-rinch ar-rmy, stalwart, fearless men, with +coarse, disagreeable faces. Each gin'ral was attinded be his private +bodygyard iv thried and thrusted perjurers, an' was followed be a +wagon-load iv forgeries, bogus affidavies, an' other statements iv +Major Estherhazy. Afther thim come th' former ministers iv th' +Fr-rinch governmint, makin' an imposin' line, which took three hours +passin' a given point. As they marched, it was seen that they were +shyly kickin' each other. + +"An interval iv silence followed, in which cud be heard cries iv +'Abase Dhryfuss!' an' 'Abase Fr-rance!' an' thin come th' man on whom +th' lies iv all th' wurruld is cinthred. Captain Dhryfuss plainly +shows his throubles, which have made him look tin years younger. His +raven hair is intirely white; an' his stalwart frame, with th' +shoulders thrown back, is stooped an' weary. His haggard face was +flushed with insolent confidence, an' th' cowa'dice in his face showed +in his fearless eye. As he passed, a young Fr-rinch sojer was with +diff'culty resthrained fr'm sthrikin' him an' embracin' him with tears +in his eyes. + +"In th' coort-room th' scene baffled description. It was an inspirin' +sight f'r th' judges, whin they were awake. Row on row iv journalists, +sharpin' pencils an' slappin' each other's faces, r-rose to th' +ceilin'. Here an' there cud be seen a brillyant uniform, denotin' th' +prisince iv th' London Times corryspondint. Th' lawn behind th' coort +was thronged with ex-mimbers iv th' Fr-rinch governmint. Th' gin'ral +staff, bein' witnesses f'r th' prosecution, sat with th' coort: th' +pris'ner, not bein' able to find a chair, sat on th' window-sill. His +inthrest in th' proceedin's was much noticed, an' caused gr-reat +amusement. Ivrybody was talkin' about th' mysteryous lady in white. +Who is she? Some say she is a Dhryfussard in th' imploy iv +Rothscheeld; others, that she is an agent iv th' Anti-Semites. No wan +has learned her name. She says she is Madame Lucille Gazahs, iv wan +hundherd an' eight Rue le Bombon, an' is a fav'rite iv th' Fr-rinch +stage. She is wan iv th' great mysthries iv this ree-markable thrile. + +"Afther th' coort had kissed th' witnesses, th' proceedin's opined. +'Tis thrue, they kiss each other. I wanst see a Fr-rinchman go f'r to +kiss a man be th' name iv Doherty, that inthrajooced risolutions in +favor iv Fr-rance again Germany at a convintion. Doherty thought he +was afther his ear, an' laid him out. But in Fr-rance 'tis different. +They begin be kissin', an' this thrile opined this way. + +"'Pris'ner,' said th' prisident iv th' coort, 'th' eyes iv Fr-rance is +upon us, th' honor iv th' nation is at stake. Th' naytional definces, +th' integrity iv that ar-rmy upon which Fr-rance must depind in time +iv peace, th' virtue iv public life, an' th' receipts iv th' +exposition is involved. Incidentally, ye ar-re bein' thried. But why +dhrag in matthers iv no importance? We ar-re insthructed, accordin' to +th' pa-apers, be th' Coort iv Cassation, to permit no ividince that +does not apply to your connection with th' case. As sojers, we bow to +th' superyor will. We will follow out th' instructions iv th' supreme +coort. We have not had time to read thim, but we will look at thim +afther th' thrile. In th' mane time we will call upon Gin'ral Merceer, +that gallant man, to tell us th' sthory iv his life.' + +"'I obey, mon colonel,' says Gin'ral Merceer, kissin' th' coort. 'Not +to begin too far back, an' to make a long sthory short, I am an honest +man, an' th' son iv an honest man. I admit it.' + +"'Good,' says th' prisident. 'D'ye recognize th' pris'ner?' 'I do,' +says Gin'ral Merceer, 'I seen him wanst dhrinkin' a shell iv Munich +beer in a caafe. [Marked sensation in th' coort, an' cries iv 'Abase +la bock.'] + +"'I says to mesilf thin, "This man is a thraitor." But th' thrainin' +iv a sojer makes wan cautious. I determined to fortify mesilf with +ividince. I put spies on this man, this perfiejous wretch, an' +discovered nawthin'. I was paralyzed. An officer iv th' Fr-rinch +ar-rmy, an' nawthin' suspicyous about him! Damnable! I was with +difficulty resthrained fr'm killin' him. But I desisted. [Cries iv +'Shame!'] I said to mesilf: "Th' honor iv Fr-rance is at stake. Th' +whole wurruld is lookin' at me, at me, Bill Merceer. I will go to bed +an' think it over." I wint to bed. Sleep, blessed sleep that sews up +th' confused coat-sleeve iv care, as th' perfiejous Shakspere [cries +iv 'Conspuez Shakspere!'] says, dayscinded on me tired eyes. [The +coort weeps.] I laid aside me honor [cries iv 'Brave gin'ral'] with me +coat [murmurs]. I slept. + +"'I dhreamed that I see th' German Impror playin' a Jew's-harp. [Cries +iv 'Abase Rothscheeld!' an' sensation.] I woke with a vi'lent start, +th' perspiration poorin' fr'm me rugged brow. "Cap Dhryfuss is +guilty," I cried. But no, I will confirm me ividince. I darted into me +r-red pants. I dhruv with fury to th' home iv Madame Cleepathry, th' +cillibrated Agyptian asthrologist an' med'cin woman. [Th' coort, 'We +know her, she supplies ividence to all Fr-rinch coorts.'] I tol' her +me dhream. She projoosed a pack iv cards. She tur-rned a r-red king +an' a black knave. "Th' Impror Willum an' Cap Dhryfuss," I says, in a +fury. I burst forth. I had Cap Dhryfuss arristed. I dashed to th' +prisident. He was a-receivin' rayfusals f'r a new cabinet. "I have +found th' thraitor," says I. "Hush!" says he. "If th' Impror Willum +hears ye, he'll declare war," he says. I was stupefied. "Oh, my +beloved counthry!" I cried. "Oh, hivin!" I cried. "What shall I do?" +I cried. They was not a minyit to lose. I disbanded th' ar-rmy. I +ordhered th' navy into dhry dock. I had me pitcher took, I wint home +an' hid in th' cellar. F'r wan night Fr-rance was safe.' + +"They was hardly a dhry eye in th' house whin th' gin'ral paused. Th' +coort wept. Th' aujience wept. Siv'ral of th' minor journalists was +swept out iv th' room in th' flood. A man shovellin' coal in th' +cellar sint up f'r an umbrella. Th' lawn shook with th' convulsive +sobs iv th' former ministers. Gin'ral Merceer raised his damp face, +an' blew a kiss to a former minister at wan iv th' windows, an' +resumed his tistimony." + + + + +THE DREYFUS CASE. + +II. + + +"'It was about this time or some years later,' continues Gin'ral +Merceer, 'that I received ividince iv th' Cap's guilt. I made it +mesilf. It was a letter written be me fr'm th' Cap to a German grocer, +askin' f'r twinty r-rounds iv sausage. [Turmoil in the coort.] It was +impossible, mon colonel, that this here letter cud have been written +be Estherhazy. In th' first place he was in Paris at th' time, in th' +sicond place he was in London. Th' letter is not in his handwritin', +but in th' handwritin' iv Colonel Pat th' Clam. Thin again I wrote th' +letter mesilf. Thin who cud 've written it? It must 've been Cap +Dhryfuss. [Cheers fr'm th' coort.] I give me reasons as they occurred +to me: First, th' Armeenyan athrocities; sicond, th' risignation iv +Gin'ral Alger; third, th' marriage iv Prince Lobengula; fourth, th' +scarcity iv sarvint girls in th' sooburban towns; fifth, th' price iv +gas. [Cries iv 'Abase th' price iv gas!'] I thank th' aujience. I will +raysume where I left off. I was speakin' iv Gin'ral Guns. I met him on +th' sthreet. Th' moon was clear in th' sky. I says, "Guns," I says, +"lave us go down to Hogan's, an' I'll buy ye a tub iv obsceenthe." As +we sthrolled through th' bullyvard, I saw a man that looked like a +German dhrivin' a cab. I was overcome with terror. I ran madly home, +followed be Guns. It was a week befure I cud hold a glass iv +obsceenthe without spillin' th' liquor. Shortly afther this, or it +may've been tin years befure, or it may niver have occurred [the +coort, 'Spoken like a Fr-rinchman an' a sojer'], in th' middle iv July +a man tol' me that the divine Sara [wild an' continyous applause, +cries iv 'Sara foriver!'] was about to projooce th' immortal play iv +"Omlet" [cheers] be th' wretched Shakspere [hisses]. Cud annything be +clearer? I will detain th' coort not longer thin a day while I give me +opinyon on this marvellous performance.' + +"Cap Dhryfuss was settin' on th' window-sill, whistlin' 'Garry Owen,' +an' makin' faces at th' gallant corryspondint iv th' Daily Wrongs iv +Man. At this point he cried out laughingly: 'I will not conthradict +th' gin'ral. I will say he lies. I saw th' letter mesilf, an' that man +was Esterhazy.' [Sensation.] + +"'Let me ask this canal iv a Jew a question,' says th' corryspondint +iv th' evening Rothscheeld Roaster, a Fr-rinchman be th' name iv Sol +Levi. + +"'Ask it,' says Cap Dhryfuss. + +"'You are a despicable thraitor,' says th' gallant corryspondint. +[Sensation.] + +"'Th' pris'ner must answer,' says th' coort. 'It is now nearly six +o'clock iv th' mornin', an' time to get up an' dhress.' + +"'I refuse to make anny commint,' says Cap Dhryfuss, + +"The pris'ner's remark, uttered in tones iv despair, caused gr-reat +emotion in th' aujience. There were angry cries iv 'Lynch him!' an' +all eyes were tur-rned to th' Cap. + +"'Silence!' roared th' coort, bendin' a stern, inflexible look on th' +pris'ner. 'This is a coort iv justice. We ar-re disposed f'r to grant +ivry indulgence; but, if outsiders persist in intherferin' with these +proceedin's,' he says, 'we'll expel thim fr'm th' r-room. What does +th' prisoner think this is?' + +"'I thought it was a thrile,' says th' Cap; 'but, be th' number iv +vet'ran journalists here, it must be th' openin' iv a new hotel.' + +"'Not another wurrud,' says th' coort, 'or ye'll be fired out. No wan +shall insult th' honest, hard-wurrukin', sober, sensible journalists +iv Fr-rance. Not if this coort knows it. Ye bet ye, boys, th' coort is +with ye. Th' press is th' palajeen iv our liberties. Gin'ral Merceer +will raysume his tistimony. He was speakin' of th' game iv goluf.' + +"'Perhaps I'd betther sing it,' says th' gin'ral. + +"'I'll play an accompanymint f'r ye on th' flute,' says th' prisident +iv th' coort. 'While Gin'ral Merceer is proceedin' with his remarks, +call Colonel Pat th' Clam, who is sick an' can't come. Swear Gin'ral +Billot, Gin'ral Boisdeffer, Gin'ral Chammy, an' th' former mimbers iv +th' governmint.' + +"'I object to thim bein' sworn,' says Matther Blamange. + +"'They must be sworn,' says th' prisident. 'How th' divvle can they +perjure thimsilves if they ain't sworn? An' who ar-re ye, annyhow?' + +"'I'm th' counsel f'r th' pris'ner,' says Matther Blamange. 'Get out +ye'ersilf,' says Matther Blamange. 'I'm as good a man as ye ar-re. I +will ask that gintleman who jest wint out the dure, Does it pay to +keep up appearances?' [Groans.] + +"'Gin'ral Billot,' says th' prisident, 'what d'ye know about this +infernal case which is broodin' like a nightmare over our belovid +counthry, an' gettin' us up ivry mornin' befure milkin' time?' + +"'Nawthin' at all,' says Gin'ral Billot. + +"'Nayther do I,' says th' prisident. 'But I think th' Cap's guilty.' + +"'I'm glad to hear ye say that,' says th' gin'ral, 'If ye didn't, I'd +rayjooce ye to th' r-ranks to-morrah. I niver see th' man befure; an', +be hivins, I don't want to see him again. But I have a letter here +fr'm him, askin' me if he cud knock off wurruk at four o'clock to go +to his aunt's fun'ral.' + +"'Cap,' says th' prisident, 'what ye got to say to this? Did ye write +th' letter?' + +"'I did,' says th' Cap. + +"'Throw it out thin,' says th' prisident. 'We must be guided be th' +laws iv ividence. Th' witness will confine himself to forgeries. Have +ye e'er a forgery about ye'er clothes, mon gin'ral?' + +"'I wish to confront th' witness,' says Matther Blamange. + +"'Sit down,'" says th' prisident. + +"'D'ye raymimber meetin' me at dinner at Moosoo de Bozoo's. It was +years ago, durin' th' time iv Napolyeon, befure th' big fire? If I +raymimber right, we had peas. Wasn't it a lovely night? Oh dear, oh +dear, gintlemen iv th' press an' mon prisident, ye ought to have been +there. Well, I says to Gin'ral Billot, I says, "Gin'ral," I says, "how +ar-re ye, annyhow." An' the gin'ral replies, "F'r an ol' man, well." I +made up me mind thin that th' Cap was innocent, an' this was before he +was born. + +"'Me distinguished colleague in th' thrile iv this case, th' editor iv +wan iv th' Paris papers,' says th' prisident, 'has received a letter +fr'm th' military attachay or spy iv th' Impror iv Austhrich, sayin' +that he did not write th' letter referred to be Prisident Kruger, an', +if he did, it's a forgery. But what cud ye ixpict? I will throw both +letters into the secret dossier.' + +"'What's that?' says Matther Blamange. + +"'It's a collection iv pomes wrote to th' Paris papers be spies,' says +th' prisident. 'Call Colonel Peekhart, if th' others ar-re not +through. What, you again, Peekhart? Set down, sir.' + +"'Gintlemen iv Fr-rance,' says Colonel Peekhart. 'Unaccustomed as I am +to public speakin', I wish to addhress ye a few wurruds on th' +situation iv th' poor in China.' + +"'Assassin!' hisses th' coort. + +"'Canal!' says Matther Blamange. + +"At this moment th' door was burst open; an' an ex-Prisident iv +Fr-rance come boundin' in, an', r-rushin' up th' steps iv th' +thrybune, smacked Gin'ral Merceer in th' eye. Th' gr-reatest rayspict +was shown f'r th' former chief magistrate iv th' raypublic. No wan +shot at him. He was white with rage. 'Th' honor iv Fr-rance is at +stake,' he says. 'Our counthry lies prostrate in th' mud. I must +presarve th' dignity iv me high office; but, if Gin'ral Merceer will +step out into th' back yard, I'll beat his head off. I don't know +annything about this accursed case. It was all referred to me whin I +was Prisident. I am here to see that th' honor iv me high office is +not assailed. I protest I did not say what an anonymous corryspondint +in to-night's Sore says I said. I did me jooty. Whin I saw th' ar-rmy +disorganized an' Fr-rance beset be foreign foes, I raysigned. What was +I to do? Was I to stay in office, an' have me hat smashed in ivry time +I wint out to walk? I tell ye, gintlemen, that office is no signcure. +Until hats are made iv cast iron, no poor man can be Prisident iv +Fr-rance. But I was not speakin' iv th' Dhryfuss case.' + +"'Don't dare to mintion that matter in this coort,' says th' +prisident. 'I'm surprised a man iv ye'er intilligence 'd thry to dhrag +in exthranyous matther, whin th' honor iv th' ar-rmy is at stake. +Gin'ral Merceer, stand beside this witness. Now both speak at wanst! +Annybody else that has annything to say, lave him say it now, so it +won't be heard.' + +"'Mon colonel,' says a former minister iv th' Fr-rinch governmint, who +was th' polisman at th' dure, 'Judge Crazy th' Boorepare is here, +demandin' to be heard.' + +"'Gr-reat hivins!' says th' coort; an' they wint out through th' +windows. + +"That night they was gr-reat excitement in Rennes. Th' citizens +dhrivin home their cows cud har'ly make their way through th' excited +throngs on th' sthreet. Th' corryspondints iv th' English papers do +not dare to go to bed befure nine o'clock on account iv rumors iv a +gin'ral massacre. Madame Sara Bernhardt gave a magnificint performance +at th' theaytre, an' was wildly cheered. It was believed in London, +Budapesth, Posen, New York, Cookham, an' Upper Sandusky that Fr-rance +is about to perish. As I go to press, th' news has excited no commint +in Fr-rance." + + + + +THE DREYFUS CASE. + +III. + + +"While th' thrillin' scenes I'm tellin' ye about is goin' on, +Hinnissy, worse is bein' enacted in beautiful Paris. In that lovely +city with its miles an' miles iv sparklin' resthrants,--la belly +Paree, as Hogan 'd say,--th' largest American city in th' wurruld, a +rivolution's begun. If ye don't believe it, read th' pa-apers. They've +arrested a pote. That was all r-right; f'r Fr-rance is sufferin' fr'm +too much pothry that 'll scan, as Hogan says, an' too much morality +that won't. They ought to be a rule f'r th' polis to pinch anny pote +caught poting between th' hours iv twelve an' twelve. But th' mistake +th' chief iv th' polis made was to r-run in a butcher at th' same +time. What th' butcher done I dinnaw; but annyhow they accused him iv +wantin' to poleaxe th' governmint; an' they thrun him into a cell. Now +th' butcher he had a frind be th' name iv Guerin,--an Irish name it +is, but this la-ad don't appear to be wan iv us,--Jools Guerin. He was +wanst in th' thripe business; but he is now r-runnin' a newspaper, +like most iv th' people iv Fr-rance. As a thripe butcher, his +circulation was larger an' among a betther class than his newspaper. +Bein' a la-ad with a fine sinse iv gratichood, an' havin' been wanst +fed an' clothed be a Jew man, he calls his pa-aper th' Anti-Jew; an' +its principle is, whin ye see a Jew, hand him a crack in th' jaw. 'Tis +a good principle, though I wanst knew a man be th' name iv Solomon +Felsenthal, that was known in th' ring as Mike Gallegher, th' +Tipp'rary Cyclone, as a thribute to th' feelin's iv th' pathrons iv +spoort; an', if Jools had thried to carry out his platform with Solly, +they'd be no siege in Fort Chabrool. Not anny. That Jew man 'd been +champeen iv th' wurruld if all iv him cud 've kept out iv close +quarthers with th' man again him. + +"I don't quarrel with Jools' feelin's, mind ye. 'Tis th' histhry iv +th' wurruld that th' Jews takes our watches fr'm us be tin per cint a +month, an' we take thim back be means iv a jimmy an' a piece iv lead +pipe. They're on'y two known methods iv finance,--bankin' an' +burglary. Th' Jews has th' first down fine, but all th' rest iv th' +wurruld is at home in th' second. So Jools's all r-right as far as he +goes. But he don't go far. + +"Well, whin Jools hear-rd that his frind th' butcher was sloughed up, +he wint fairly wild. He says to himsilf, he says, 'I'll go home,' he +says, 'an' defy th' governmint,' he says. 'I'll start a rivolution,' +he says. 'But,' he says, 'I must first notify th' polis,' he says, +'so's to prevint disordher,' he says. So he wint to th' chief iv +polis, who was an ol' frind iv his,--they was in th' same newspaper +office or thripe dairy or something,--an' th' chief kissed Jools, an' +asked him what he cud do f'r him. 'I wish,' said Jools, 'ye'd sind +down tin or a dozen good men in uniform an' a few detectives in +citizen's clothes,' he says. + +"I've asked some ladies an' gintlemen to a five o'clock rivolution at +my house,' he says; 'an' I'd like to be sure they'll be no disordher,' +he says. 'Well,' says th' chief, ''twill not be aisy,' he says. 'Ye +see th' prisident--I f'rget his name--has been asked to go to th' +r-races with some frinds,' he says; 'an' they will prob'bly thry to +kill him,' he says. 'We can't play anny fav'rites here,' he says. 'We +have to protect th' low as well as th' high,' he says. 'If annything +happens to this man, th' case is li'ble to be taken up be th' +ex-prisidents' association; an' they're num'rous enough to make +throuble f'r us,' he says. 'But,' he says, 'I'll do what I can f'r ye, +me ol' frind,' he says. 'Give us th' best ye have,' says Jools; 'an', +if ye've nawthin' to do afther ye close up, ye might dhrop in,' he +says, 'an' have a manifesto with us,' he says. 'Come just as ye +ar-re,' he says. ''Tis an informal rivolution,' he says. + +"An' away he wint. At sharp five o'clock th' rivolution begun. Th' +sthreets was dinsely packed with busy journalists, polis, sojers, an' +fash'nably dhressed ladies who come down fr'm th' Chang's All Easy in +motocycles. There was gr-reat excitement as Jools come to th' windy +an' pinned a copy iv his vallyable journal on th' sill, accompanied be +a thrusty liftnant wavin' a statement iv th' circulation iv th' +Anti-Jew. Jools at this moment was a tur-rble sight. He was dhressed +fr'm head to foot in Harveyized, bomb-proof steel, with an asbestos +rose in his buttonhole. Round his waist was sthrapped four hundherd +rounds iv ca'tridges an' eight days' provisions. He car-rid a Mauser +rifle on each shoulder, a machine gun undher wan ar-rm, a dinnymite +bomb undher another, an' he was smoking a cigareet. 'Ladies an' +gintlemen,' he says, 'I'm proud an' pleased to see ye prisint in such +lar-rge numbers at th' first rivolution iv th' prisint season,' he +says. 'With th' kind permission iv th' hated polis undher th' +di-rection iv me good frind an' fellow-journalist, Loot Franswoo +Coppere, an' th' ar-rmy, f'r whose honor ivry Fr-renchman 'll lay down +his life, th' siege will now begin. We will not,' he says, 'lave this +house till we have driven ivry cur-rsed Cosmypollitan or Jew,' he +says, 'fr'm this noble land iv th' br-rave an' home iv th' flea,' he +says. 'Veev Fr-rance!' he says. 'Veev Jools Guerin!' he says. +'Conspuez Rothscheeld!' he says. 'It's ye'er move, Loot,' he says to +th' polisman. + +"'I defer to th' ar-rmy whose honor is beyond reproach,' says th' +polisman, 'or recognition,' he says. 'Veev l'army!' he says. + +"'Thank ye,' says Gin'ral Bellow, salutin'. 'I will do me jooty. Man +can do no more,' he says. 'Jools,' he says, 'surrinder,' he says. 'Ye +cannot longer hol' out,' he says. 'Ye have provisions on'y f'r eight +years.' + +"'We will remain till th' last wan iv us perishes iv indigestion,' +says Jools. + +"'Thin I must take sthrong measures,' says th' gin'ral. 'At a given +signal we will storm th' house, bate down th' dures, smash in th' +roofs, cut off th' gas, poison th' wather supply, back up th' sewer, +break th' windys, an' r-raise th' rint.'" + +"'Do ye'er worst,' says Jools, proudly. + +"'Thin,' says th' gin'ral, imprissively, 'if these measures do not +suffice, I will suspind th' deliv'ry iv th' mails,' he says. + +"'Miscreant!' cries Jools, tur-rnin' white. 'An' this is called a +merciful governmint,' he says. 'Mong doo,' he says, 'what cr-rimes +will not Fr-rinchmen commit again' Fr-rinchmen!' he says. 'But,' he +says, 'ye little know us, if ye think we can be quelled be vi'lence,' +he says. 'I have a last card,' he says. 'I refuse to give th' signal,' +he says. + +"'Thin,' says th' gin'ral, tur-rnin' away with tears in his eyes, 'we +must adopt other measures.' + +"'Very well,' says Jools. 'But mark wan thing,--that, if ye attempt to +make me ridiculous, ye shall suffer.' + +"'I assure ye, mong editor,' says th' gin'ral, earnestly, 'that th' +governmint will not make ye anny more ridiculous than it makes +itsilf,' says he. + +"'Me honor is satisfied,' says Jools. 'Do ye'er worst,' he says. + +"At eight o'clock th' minister iv war ar-rived, an' took command. He +ordhered up twinty rig'mints iv cav'lry, tin batthries iv artillery, +an' two divisions iv fut sojers. It was his intintion to sind th' +cav'lry in over th' roofs, while th' army carried th' front stoop, +protected be fire fr'm th' heavy artillery, while th' Fr-rinch navy +shelled th' back dure. But this was seen to be impossible, because th' +man that owned th' wine-shop next dure, he said 'twud dhrive away +custom. All th' sthreets f'r miles ar-round was blockaded without +effect. Th' fire departmint was called to put Jools out, but wather +niver touched him. Th' sewer gang wint down an' blocked th' dhrains, +an' Jools soon had inspiration f'r a year's writin'. At last accounts +th' garrison was still holdin' out bravely again a witherin' fire iv +canned food, lobsters, omelets, an' hams. A brave gossoon in th' +Sivinth Artill'ry did partic'larly effective wurruk, hur-rlin' a plate +iv scrambled eggs acrost th' sthreet without spillin' a dhrop, an' is +now thrainin' a pie like mother used to make on th' first windy iv th' +sicond flure. It is reported that th' minister iv war at four o'clock +to-morrow mornin' will dhrop a bundle iv copies iv Jools' paper +through th' chimbley. Whin he opens th' windy, a pome be Paul +Deroulede 'll be read to him. This is again th' articles iv war, but +th' case is desp'rate. + +"But I was thinkin', Hinnissy, as I walked down th' Roo Chabrool, how +I'd like to see a Chicago polisman come sthrollin' along with his hat +on th' back iv his head. I don't love Chicago polismen. They seem to +think ivry man's head's as hard as their own. But I'd give forty-three +francs, or eight dollars an' sixty cints iv our money, if th' Fr-rinch +governmint 'd sind f'r Jawnny Shea, an' ask him to put down this here +rivolution. Th' nex' day they'd move th' office iv th' Anti-Seemite +Society to th' morgue." + + + + +THE DREYFUS CASE. + +IV. + + +"Well, Hinnissy, to get back to Rennes. Whin I left off, th' air was +full iv rumors iv an approachin' massacree. It was still full at +daybreak. Exthraordinney measures was adopted to provide again +disturbance. Th' gyard was doubled, an' both polismen had all they cud +do to keep th' crowd in ordher. Th' English an' American journalists +appeared at th' thrile wrapped up in th' flags iv their rayspictive +counthries. All th' Jews, excipt th' owners iv anti-Jew papers fr'm +Paris, wore heavy masks an' kep' their hands in their pockets. At four +o'clock th' prisident called th' aujience to disordher, an', havin' +disentangled Gin'ral Merceer an' a former prisident iv th' raypublic, +demanded if Moosoo Bertillon was in th' room. + +"'Here,' says that gr-reat janius, descindin' fr'm th' roof in a +parachute. Ye know Bertillon. Ye don't? Iv coorse ye do, Hinnissy. +He's th' la-ad that invinted th' system iv ditictive wurruk med aisy +that they use down in th' Cintral Polis Station. I mind wanst, afther +'twas inthrojooced, th' loot says to Andy Rohan,--he's a sergeant now, +be hivins!--he says, 'Go out,' he says, 'an' fetch in Mike McGool, th' +safe robber,' he says. 'Here's his description,' he says: 'eyelashes, +eight killomethres long; eyes, blue an' assymethrical; jaw, +bituminous; measuremint fr'm abaft th' left ear to base iv maxillory +glan's, four hectograms; a r-red scar runnin' fr'm th' noomo-gasthric +narve to th' sicond dorsal verteebree,' he says. 'Tis so. I have th' +description at home in th' cash dhrawer. Well, Andy come in about six +o'clock that night, lookin' as though he'd been thryin' to r-run a fut +race acrost a pile iv scrap ir'n; an' says he, 'Loot,' he says, 'I've +got him,' he says. "I didn't take th' measuremints,' he says, +'because, whin I pulled out th' tape line, he rowled me eighty +hectograms down th' sthreet,' he says. 'But 'tis Mike McGool,' he +says. 'I don't know annything about his noomo-gasthric narves,' he +says, 'but I reco'nized his face,' he says. 'I've r-run him in fifty +times,' he says. + +"Bertillon, besides bein' a profissor iv detictives, is a handwritin' +expert, which is wan iv th' principal industhries iv Fr-rance at th' +prisint time. He was accompanied be a throop iv assistants carryin' a +camera, a mutoscope, a magic lantern, a tib iv dye, a telescope, a +calceem light, a sextant, a compass, a thermometer, a barometer, a +thrunkful iv speeches, a duplicate to th' Agyptian obelisk, an +ink-eraser, an' a rayceipt f'r makin' goold out iv lead pipe. + +"'Well, sir,' says Bertillon, 'what d'ye want?' + +"'Nawthin',' says th' coort. 'Didn't ye ask to be called here?' + +"'No,' says Bertillon, 'an' ye didn't ask me, ayther. I come. Ye said +jus' now, Why do I believe th' Cap's guilty? I will show ye. In th' +spring iv ninety-five or th' fall iv sixty-eight, I disraymimber +which, Gin'ral Merceer'-- + +"'Ye lie,' says Gin'ral Merceer, coldly. + +"'--called on me; an' says he, "Bertillon," he says, "ye'er fam'ly's +been a little cracked, an' I thought to ask ye to identify this +letther which I've jus' had written be a frind iv mine, Major +Estherhazy," he says. "I don't care to mintion who we suspect; but +he's a canal Jew in th' artillery, an' his name's Cap Dhryfuss," he +says. "It's not aisy," I says; "but, if th' honor iv th' ar-rmy's at +stake, I'll thry to fix th' raysponsibility," I says. An' I wint to +wurruk. I discovered in th' first place that all sentences begun with +capitals, an' they was a peryod at th' end iv each. This aroused me +suspicions. Clearly, this letther was written be a Jew. Here I paused, +f'r I had no samples iv th' Cap's writin' to compare with it. So I +wrote wan mesilf. They was much th' same. "Sure," says I, "th' Cap's +guilty," I says. But how did he do it? I thried a number iv +experiments. I first laid down over th' letther a piece of common +tissue paper. Th' writin' was perfectly plain through this. Thin I +threw it on a screen eighteen hands high. Thin I threw it off. Thin I +set it to music, an' played it on a flute. Thin I cooked it over a +slow fire, an' left it in a cool airy place to dhry. In an instant it +flashed over me how th' forgery was done. "Th' Cap first give it to +his little boy to write. Thin he had his wife copy it in imitation iv +Macchew Dhryfuss's handwritin'. Thin Macchew wrote it in imitation iv +Estherhazy. Thin th' Cap had it put on a typewriter, an' r-run through +a wringer. Thin he laid it transversely acrost a piece of wall paper; +an', whereiver th' key wurrud sponge-cake appeared, he was thereby +able f'r to make a sympathic lesion, acquirin' all th' characteristics +iv th' race, an' a dam sight more." + +"'I follow ye like a horse afther a hay wagon,' says th' prisident, +'hungrily, but unsatisfacthrly. Ye do not prove that th' throuble was +symotic, mong expert.' + +"'Parfictly,' says Moosoo Bertillon. 'I will have me assistants put up +a screen, an' on this I will projooce ividince'--"'Go away,' says th' +prisident. 'Call Colonel Prystalter. Mong colonel, ye thraitor, +describe th' conversation ye had with Colonel Schneider, th' honorable +but lyin' spy or confidential envoy iv th' vin'rable Impror iv +Austhrich, may th' divvle fly way with him! But mind ye, ye must +mintion no names.' + +"'I know no man more honest,' says th' witness. + +"'Thin your acquaintance is limited to ye'ersilf,' says Gin'ral +Merceer. + +"'Colonel Schneider,' says th' witness, 'th' Austhrich,--whom I will +designate, f'r fear iv internaytional entanglements, merely as Colonel +Schneider,--says to me, he says: "Th' letther pretindin' to be fr'm me +is a forgery." "How's that?" says I. "Didn't ye write an' sign it?" I +says. "I did," says he. "But some wan else sint it to th' pa-apers." + +"'Thin 'tis clearly a forgery,' says th' prisident. + +"'I wish to ask this witness wan question,' says Gin'ral Merceer. 'Was +it th' Robin shell or th' day befure?' + +"'My answer to that,' says th' witness, 'is decidedly, Who?' + +"'Thin,' says Gin'ral Merceer, 'all I can say is, this wretch's +tistimony is all a pack iv lies.' + +"'Hol' on there!' calls a voice from th' aujience. + +"'What d'ye want?' says th' prisident. + +"'I'm th' corryspondint iv th' Georgia Daily Lyncher, an' I can't +undherstand a wurrud ye say. I've lost me dictionary. Th' people iv +th' State iv Georgia mus' not be deprived iv their information about +th' scand'lous conduct iv this infamious coort.' + +"'Thrue,' says th' prisident. 'Fr-rance 'd soon perish if Georgia shud +thransfer its intherest fr'm Fr-rinch coorts to its own sacred timples +iv justice. Perhaps some confrere 'll lind th' distinguished gazabo a +copy iv his Ollendorff. Manewhile'-- + +"'Mong prisident,' says a white-faced polisman, 'Judge Crazy the +Boore'-- + +"'Gr-reat hivins!' cried th' prisident. 'Thin th' quarantine at Oporto +is a farce.' An' he plunged into th' seething mass iv handwritin' +experts an' ex-prisidents iv th' raypublic in th' coort-yard below." + + + + +THE DREYFUS CASE. + +V. + + +"An' I was thinking Hinnissy" (Mr. Dooley said in conclusion), "as I +set in that there coort, surrounded be me fellow-journalists, spies, +perjurers, an' other statesmen, that I'd give four dollars if th' +prisident iv th' coort 'd call out, 'Moosoo Dooley, take th' stand.' + +"'Here,' says I; an' I'd thread me way with dignity through th' +Fr-rinch gin'rals an' ministers on th' flure, an' give me hand to th' +prisident to kiss. If he went anny further, I'd break his head. No +man 'll kiss me, Hinnissy, an' live. What's that ye say? He wudden't +want to? Well, niver mind. + +"'Here,' says I, 'mong colonel, what d'ye want with me?' + +"'What d'ye know about this case, mong bar-tinder.' + +"'Nawthin',' says I. 'But I know as much as annywan else. I know more +thin most iv thim la-ads down below; f'r I can't undherstand a wurrud +ye say, so I'm onable,' I says, 'f'r to make mistakes. I won't give +anny tistimony, because 'twud be out iv place in this sacred timple +devoted to th' practice iv orathry,' I says; 'but I can make as good a +speech as annywan, an' here goes.' + +"Gin'ral Merceer--'May I ask this polluted witness wan question?' + +"Th' Witness.--'Set down, ye infamious ol' polthroon!' says I. 'Set +down an' pondher ye'er sins,' I says. 'If ye had ye'er dues, ye'd be +cooprin' a bar'l in th' pinitinchry. If ye're afraid iv th' Impror +Willum, be hivins, ye want to be afraid iv th' Impror Dooley; f'r he's +Dutch, an' I ain't. I'll raysume me speech. Lady an' Gintlemen, +prisoner at th' bar, freeman that ought to be there, lawyers, +gin'rals, ex-prisidents, former mimbers iv th' cabinet, an' you, me +gin'rous confreres iv th' wurruld's press, I come fr'm a land where +injustice is unknown, where ivry man is akel befure th' law, but some +are betther thin others behind it, where th' accused always has a fair +thrile ayether,' I says, 'in th' criminal coort or at th' coroner's +inquest,' I says. 'I have just been in another counthry where such +conduct as we've witnessed here wud be unknown at a second thrile,' I +says, 'because they have no second thriles,' I says. 'We Anglo-Saxons +ar-re th' salt iv th' earth, an' don't ye f'rget it, boys. All our +affairs ar-re in ordher. We convict no innocent men an' very few +guilty wans, perjury is unknown amongst us, we have no military +scandals, an' our private life is beyond rebuke. So we have th' time +an' th' inclination to study th' vile offences iv our neighbors, an' +give thim advice free iv cost. An' that is why I'm here to-day in this +degraded counthry to tell ye what's th' matther with ye an' what ye +ought to do. + +"'An' this is me opinyon: I don't think Cap. Dhryfuss wr-rote th' +borderoo. I think he was th' on'y man in Fr-rance that didn't. But I +ain't got as high an opinyon iv th' Cap as I had. I ain't no purity +brigade; but, th' older I get, th' more I think wan wife's enough f'r +anny man, an' too manny f'r some. They was a time, Cap, whin 'twas +seryously thought iv takin' ye fr'm th' Divvle's Own Island an' makin' +ye prisident iv th' Women's Rescue League. But I'm afraid, Cap, ye're +disqualified f'r that position be what we've heard fr'm ye'er own lips +durin th' thrile. Ye lost a good job. Thin there ar-re some other +things about ye I don't undherstand. I can't make out what ye meant be +pretindin' to go to It'ly an' doublin' back into Germany; an' I wish +f'r me own peace iv mind all ye'er explanations 'd mate. But, sure, if +ivry man that was too free with his affections was to be sint to th' +Divvle's Own Island, they'd have to build an intinsion to that +far-famed winther resort. An' if suspicyous actions was proof iv +guilt, mong colonel, ye'd have th' mimbers iv th' gin'ral staff +sthrung up in as manny cages as ye see at th' Zoo-illogical Gardens +[laughter an' cries iv 'Veev Dooley!'] + +"'Th' throuble is, mong colonel, lady an' gintlemen, that it ain't +been Cap Dhryfuss that's been on thrile, but th' honor iv th' nation +an' th' honor iv th' ar-rmy. If 'twas th' Cap that was charged, ye'd +say to him, "Cap, we haven't anny proof again ye; but we don't like +ye, an' ye'll have to move on." An' that 'd be th' end iv th' row. The +Cap 'd go over to England an' go into th' South African minin' +business, an' become what Hogan calls "A Casey's bellows." But, +because some la-ad on th' gin'ral staff got caught lyin' in th' start +an' had to lie some more to make th' first wan stick, an' th' other +gin'rals had to jine him f'r fear he might compromise thim if he wint +on telling his fairy stories, an' they was la-ads r-runnin' newspapers +in Paris that needed to make a little money out iv th' popylation, ye +said, "Th' honor iv th' Fr-rinch people an' th' honor iv th' Fr-rinch +ar-rmy is on thrile"; an' ye've put thim in th' dock instead iv th' +Cap. Th' honor iv Fr-rance is all right, me boy, an' will be so long +as th' Fr-rinch newspapers is not read out iv Paree,' I says. 'An', if +th' honor iv th' Fr-rinch ar-rmy can stand thim pants that ye hew out +iv red flannel f'r thim, a little threachery won't injure it at all,' +I says. 'Yes,' says I, 'th' honor iv Fr-rance an' th' honor iv th' +ar-rmy 'll come out all r-right,' I says; 'but it wudden't do anny harm +f'r to sind th' honor iv th' Fr-rinch gin'rals to th' laundhry,' I +says. 'I think ye'd have to sind Gin'ral Merceer's to th' dyer's,' I +says. 'Ye niver can take out th' spots, an' it might as well all be +th' same color,' I says. 'Mong colonel,' I says imprissively, 'so long +as ivry man looks out f'r his own honor, th' honor iv th' counthry 'll +look out f'r itsilf,' I says. 'No wan iver heard iv a nation stealin' +a lead pipe or committin' perjury,' I says. ''Tis th' men that makes +up th' nation that goes in f'r these diversions,' I says. 'I'd hate to +insure again burglars th' naytional honor that was guarded be that ol' +gazabo,' says I, indicatin' Merceer with th' toe iv me boot. + +"'That's wan point. They's another, mong colonel. Ye're all afraid. +That's th' truth iv th' matther. Ye're like a lot iv ol' women that +thinks ivry time th' shutter creaks burglars is goin' to break into +th' house. Ye're afraid iv Rothscheeld, an' th' Impror iv Germany, an' +th' Dook d'Orleans, Vik Bonaparte, an' Joe Chamberlain, an' Bill +McKinley. Be hivins, I believe ye're even afraid iv Gin'ral Otis! +Ye're afraid iv th' newspapers, ye're afraid iv Jools Guerin, ye're +afraid iv a pote, even whin he is not ar-rmed with his pothry, an' +ye're afraid iv each other. Brace up! be men! If I was a Fr-rinchman, +I'd be afraid iv no man but th' cab-dhrivers; an' I wudden't be afraid +iv thim long, f'r I'd be a cab-dhriver mesilf. + +"'Wan thing more, an' thin me tistimony's over. Ye want me advice. Ye +didn't ask f'r it. If I was prisident iv this coort-martial, I'd say +to Cap Dhryfuss: "Cap, get out. Ye may not be a thraitor, but ye're +worse. Ye're become a bore." An' I'd give him money enough to lave th' +counthry. Thin I'd sind th' gin'ral staff off to some quiet counthry +village where they'd be free fr'm rumors iv war, an' have nawthin' +else to do but set around in rockin'-chairs an' play with th' cat. +Thin I'd cut th' cable to England; an' thin I'd gather all the +journalists iv Paris together, an' I'd say, "Gintlemen," I'd say, "th' +press is th' palajeem iv our liberties," I'd say; "but our liberties +no longer requires a palajeem," I'd say. "This wan, whativer it means, +is frayed at th' risbands, an' th' buttonholes is broken, annyhow," +I'd say. "I've bought all iv ye tickets to Johannisberg," I'd say, +"an' ye'll be shipped there tonight," I'd say. "Ye'er confreres iv +that gr-reat city is worn out with their exertions, an' ye'll find +plenty iv wurruk to do. In fact, those iv ye that're anti-Seemites +'ll niver lack imployment," I'd say. "Hinceforth Fr-rance will be +free--fr'm th' likes iv ye," I'd say. An' th' nex' mornin' Paris 'd +awake ca'm an' peaceful, with no newspapers, an' there 'd be more room +in our own papers f'r th' base-ball news,' says I. + +"'But, mong liquor dealer, what ye propose 'd depopylate France,' says +th' prisident. + +"'If that's th' case,' says I, 'Fr-rance ought to be depopylated,' I +says. 'I've been thinkin' that's th' on'y way it can be made fit to +live in f'r a man fr'm Chicago, where th' jambons come fr'm,' says I, +lavin' th' stand." + + * * * * * + +"Arrah, what ar-re ye talkin' about?" demanded Mr. Hennessy. "Ye niver +got a peek in th' dure." + +"What have you been doin'?" Mr. Dooley asked, disregarding the +interruption. + +"I wint out to see th' rowlin' mills," said Mr. Hennessy. "They have a +very good plant; an' a man be th' name iv Mechell Onnessy or Mike +Hennessy, a cousin iv mine that come over th' Fenian time with +Stevens, is boss iv a gang. He speaks Fr-rinch like a boardin'-school. +I talked with wan iv th' la-ads through him. + +"Did ye ask him about th' Dhryfuss case?" asked Mr. Dooley, eagerly. + +"I did." + +"What did he say?" + +"He said he niver heerd of it." + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Mr. Dooley: In the Hearts of His +Countrymen, by Finley Peter Dunne + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MR. DOOLEY *** + +***** This file should be named 13784.txt or 13784.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/3/7/8/13784/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland and the PG Online Distributed +Proofreading Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/old/13784.zip b/old/13784.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f6a297c --- /dev/null +++ b/old/13784.zip |
