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Mr. DOOLEY:
In Peace and in War





Mr. DOOLEY
In Peace and in War

Boston
Small, Maynard & Company
1899



Copyright, 1898, by the Chicago 7ournal
Copyright, 1898, by Small, Maynard & Company
First Edition  (0o,ooo copies) November, 1898
Second Edition (zo,ooo copies) December, 1898
Third Edition (1o,ooo copies) January, 1899

Press of George H. Ellis, Boston, U.S.A.



TO W. H. TURNER





PREFACE.

ARCHEY ROAD stretches back for many
miles from the heart of an ugly city to the
cabbage gardens that gave the maker of the
seal his opportunity to call the city "urbs in
horto."  Somewhere between the twothat is to say, forninst th' gas-house and
beyant Healey's slough and not far from
the polls station-lives Martin 'Dooley,
doctor of philosophy.
There was a time when Archey Road was
purely Irish. But the Huns, turned back
from the Adriatic and the stock-yards and
overrunning Archey Road, have nearly exhausted the original population,- not driven
them out as they drove out less vigorous
races, with thick clubs and short spears, but
edged them out with the more biting weapons



viii          PREFACE
of modern   civilization,- overworked and
under-eaten them into more languid surroundings remote from the tanks of the gashouse and the blast furnaces of the rollingmill.,
But Mr. Dooley remains, and enough remain with him to save the Archey Road.
In this community you can hear all the various accents of Ireland, from the awkward
brogue of the " far-downer" to the mild and
aisy Elizabethan English of the southern
Irishman, and all the exquisite variations to
be heard between Armagh and Bantry Bay,
with the difference that would naturally arise
from substituting cinders and sulphuretted
hydrogen for soft misty air and peat smoke.
Here also you can see the wakes and christenings, the marriages and funerals, and the
other fetes of the ol' counthry somewhat



PREFACE                 ix
modified and darkened by American usage.
The Banshee has been heard many times in
Archey Road. On the eve of All Saints'
Day it is well known that here alone the
pookies play thricks in cabbage gardens. In
1893 it was reported that Malachi Dempsey
was called cc by the other people," and disappeared west of the tracks, and never came
back.
A simple people!   "Simple, says ye!"
remarked Mr. Dooley. "Simple like th' air
or th' deep sea. Not complicated like a
watch that stops whin th' shoot iv clothes
ye got it with wears out. Whin Father
Butler wr-rote a book he niver finished, he
said simplicity was not wearin' all ye had on
ye'er shirt-front, like a tin-horn gambler with
his di'mon' stud. An' 'tis so."
The barbarians around them are moder


x               PREFACE
ately but firmly governed, encouraged to
passionate votings for the ruling race, but
restrained from the immoral pursuit of office.
The most generous, thoughtful, honest,
and chaste people in the world are these
friends of Mr. Dooley,-  knowing and innocent; moral, but giving no heed at all to
patented political moralities.
Among them lives and prospers the traveller, archaeologist, historian, social observer,
saloon-keeper, economist, and philosopher,
who has not been out of the ward for
twenty-five years "but twict."    He reads
the newspapers with solemn care, heartily
hates them, and accepts all they print for
the sake of drowning Hennessy's rising protests against his logic.    From   the cool
heights of life in the Archey Road, uninterrupted by the jarring noises of crickets and



PREFACE                  xi
cows, he observes the passing show, and
meditates thereon.    His impressions are
transferred to the desensitized plate of Mr.
Hennessy's mind, where they can do no
harm.
"There's no betther place to see what's
goin' on thin the Ar-rchey Road," says Mr.
Dooley. "Whin th' ilicthric cars is hummin' down th' sthreet an' th' blast goin'
sthrong at th' mills, th' noise is that gr-reat
ye can't think."
He is opulent in good advice, as becomes
a man of his station; for he has mastered
most of the obstacles in a business career,
and by leading a prudent and temperate life
has established himself so well that he owns
his own house and furniture, and is only
slightly behind on his license. It would be
indelicate to give statistics as to his age.



xii           PREFACE
Mr. Hennessy says he was a "grown man
whin th' pikes was out in forty-eight, an' I
was hedge-high, an' I'm near fifty-five."
Mr. Dooley says Mr. Hennessy is eighty.
He closes discussion on his own age with
the remark, " I'm old enough to know betther."  He has served his country with
distinction. His conduct of the important
office of captain of his precinct (1873-75)
was highly commended, and there was some
talk of nominating him for alderman. At
the expiration of his term he was personally
thanked by the Hon. M. McGee, at one
time a member of the central committee.
But the activity of public life was unsuited
to a man of Mr. Dooley's tastes; and, while
he continues to view the political situation
always with interest and sometimes with
alarm, he has resolutely declined to leave



PREFACE                 xiii
the bar for the forum. His early experience gave him wisdom in discussing public
affairs.  " Politics," he says, "ain't bean
bag. 'Tis a man's game; an' women, childher, an' pro-hybitionists'd do well to keep
out iv it."  Again he remarks, "As Shakespeare says, c 01' men f'r th' council, young
men f'r th' ward."'
An attempt has been made in this book
to give permanent form to a few of the
more characteristic and important of Mr.
Dooley's utterances.   For permission   to
reprint the articles the thanks of the editor
are due to Mr. George G. Booth, of the
Chicago Yournal, and to Mr. Dooley's constant friend, Mr. H. H. Kohlsaat, of the
Chicago Evening Post.
F. P. D.





CONTENTS.
MR. DOOLEY IN WAR

ON
ON
ON
ON
ON
ON
ON
ON

DIPLOMACY.......
WAR PREPARATIONS...
FITZ-HUGH LEE.....
MULES AND OTHERS..
HIS COUSIN GEORGE..
SOME ARMY APPOINTMENTS
STRATEGY......
GENERAL MILES'S MOONLIGHT
EXCURSION......
ADMIRAL DEWEY'S ACTIVITY
THE PHILIPPINES.....
PRAYERS FOR VICTORY.
THE ANGLO-SAXON...
A LETTER FROM THE FRONT
OUR CUBAN ALLIES..

PAGE
I
6
10
14
20
25
30
34
39
43
48
53
58
63

ON
ON
ON
ON
ON
ON



xvi

CONTENTS

ON THE DESTRUCTION OF CERVERA'S
FLEET.........
ON A LETTER TO MR. DEPEW.
ON THE PRESIDENT'S CAT...
ON A SPEECH BY PRESIDENT MCKINLEY........
ON THE HERO IN POLITICS

PAGE
68
73
77
8i
87

MR.
ON
ON
ON
- ON
ON
ON
ON
ON
ON

DOOLEY IN PEACE
NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTIONS..  95
GOLD-SEEKING......       100
BOOKS......... 10
REFORM CANDIDATES... III
PATERNAL DUTY.....      I118
CRIMINALS....... 124
A  PLOT......  130
THE NEW WOMAN...   136
EXPERT TESTIMONY... 141



CONTENTS             xvii
PAGE
ON THE POPULARITY OF FIREMEN. 146
ON THE GAME OF FOOTBALL.     52
ON THE NECESSITY OF MODESTY
AMONG THE RICH.....       I58
ON THE POWER OF LOVE.       165
ON THE VICTORIAN ERA..    170
ON THE CURRENCY QUESTION.      175
ON POLITICAL PARADES..   181
ON CHARITY........ 187
ON NANSEN...... 192
ON A POPULIST CONVENTION.   197
ON A FAMILY REUNION..    202
ON A FAMOUS WEDDING... 208
ON A QUARREL BETWEEN ENGLAND
AND GERMANY.... 213
ON ORATORY IN POLITICS... 218
ON CHRISTMAS GIFTS...    223
ON ANARCHISTS....   229
ON THE DREYFUS CASE.. 234



xviii       CONTENTS
PAGE
ON THE DECADENCE OF GREECE. 239
ON THE INDIAN WAR.....        245
ON GOLF..2.......249
ON THE FRENCH CHARACTER..  255



MR. DOOLEY IN WAR





ON DIPLOMACY.

c I'LL explain it to ye," said Mr. Dooley.
cc 'Tis this way. Ye see, this here Sagasta
is a boonco steerer like Canada Bill, an' th'
likes iv him. A smart man is this Sagasta,
an' wan that can put a crimp in th' ca-ards
that ye cudden't take out with a washerwoman's   wringer.   He's   been   through
manny a ha-ard    game.    Talk about th'
County Dimocracy picnic, where a threeca-ard man goes in debt ivry time he hurls
th' broads, 'tis nawthin' to what this here
Spanish onion has been again an' beat. F'r
years an' years he's played on'y profissionals.
Th' la-ads he's tackled have more marked
ca-ards in their pockets thin a preacher fr'm
Mitchigan an' more bad money thin ye cud
shake out iv th' coat-tail pockets iv a prosp'rous banker fr'm Injianny. He's been up
again Gladstun an' Bisma-arck an' ol' whatye-call-'im, th' Eyetalian,-his name's got
away from me,- an' he's done thim all.
cc Well, business is bad. No wan will play



2           MR. DOOLEY
with him. No money's comin' in. Th'
circus has moved on to th' nex' town, an' left
him without a customer. Th' Jew man that
loaned him th' bank-roll threatens to seize
th' ca-ards on' th' table.  Whin, lo an'
behold, down th' sthreet comes a ma-an fr'm
th' counthry,- a lawyer fr'm Ohio, with a
gripsack in his hand. Oh, but he's a proud
man. He's been in town long enough f'r
to get out iv th' way iv th' throlley ca-ar
whin th' bell rings. He's lamed not to thry
an' light his see-gaar at th' ilicthric light.
He doesn't offer to pay th' ilivator ma-an
f'r carryin' him upstairs. He's got so he
can pass a tall buildin' without thryin' Pr
to turn a back summersault. An' he's as
haughty about it as a new man on an icewagon. They'se nawthin' ye can tell him.
He thinks iv himsilf goin' back to Canton
with a r-red necktie on, an' settin' on a
cracker box an' tellin' th' lads whin they
come in fr'm pitchin' hor-rseshoes what a
hot time he's had, an' how he's seen th'
hootchy-kootchy an' th' Pammer House bar


ON DIPLOMACY                  3
ber shop, an' th' other ondacint sights iv a
gr-reat city.
c An' so he comes up to where Sagasta is
kind iv throwin' th' ca-ards idly on th' top
iv th' bar'l, an' Sagasta pipes him out iv th'
corner iv his eye, an' says to himsilf: c Oh, I
dinnaw,' an' thanks hiven f'r th' law that ha
a sucker bor-rn ivry minyit. An' th' la-ad
fr'm Canton thinks he can pick out th' Jack,
an' sometimes he can an' sometimes he can't;
but th' end iv it is th' Spanyard has him
thrimmed down to his chest protector, an'
he'll be goin' back to Canton in a blanket.
Ye see it ain't his game. If it was pitchin'
hor-rseshoes,'twud be diff'rent. He cud bate
Sagasta at that. He cud do him at rasslin'
or chasin' th' greased pig, or in a wan-legged
race or th' tug-iv-war. He cud make him
look foolish at liftin' a kag iv beer or hitchin'
up a team. But, whin it comes to di-plomacy, th' Spanyard has him again th' rail,
an' counts on him till his ar-rm is sore."
c Why don't he tur-rn in an' fight?"
demanded the patriotic Mr. Hennessy.



4            MR. DOOLEY
"Lord    knows,"   said  Mr.    Dooley.
" Mebbe 'twill tur-rn out th' way it did
with two frinds iv mine. They was Joe
Larkin an' a little r-red-headed man be th'
name iv O'Brien, an' they wint out to th'
picanic at Ogden's grove, where wanst a year
Ireland's freed. They was a shell ma-an
wurrukin' near th' fence, an' Larkin says,
says he: c He's aisy. Lave me have some
money, an' we'll do him. I can see th' pea
go undher th' shell ivry time.' So O'Brien
bein' a hot spoort loaned him th' money, an'
he wint at it. Ivry time Larkin cud see th'
pea go undher th' shell as plain as day.
Wanst or twict th' shell man was so careless
that he left th' pea undher th' edge iv th'
shell. But in five minyits all iv O'Brien's
money was in th' bad ma-an's pockits, an' he
was lookin' around f'r more foolish pathrites.
It took O'Brien some time f'r to decide
what to  do.   Thin says he, 'Twas my
money this fool blowed in.' An' he made
a dash f'r th' shell ma'an; an' he not on'y
got what he'd lost, but all th' r-rest iv th'



ON DIPLOMACY                 5
capital besides. Ye see, that was his game.
That was where he come in. An' he took
th' money an' carrid it over to a cor-rner iv
th' gr-rounds where a la-ad had wan iv thim
matcheens where ye pay tin cints f'r th'
privilege iv seein' how har-rd ye can hit with
a sledge-hammer, an' there he stayed till th'
polis come arround to dhrive people off th'
gr-rounds."



ON WAR PREPARATIONS.

" WELL," Mr. Hennessy asked, " how goes
th' war? "
"Splendid, thank ye," said Mr. Dooley.
"Fine, fine.   It makes me hear-rt throb
with pride that I'm a citizen iv th' Sixth
Wa-ard."
" Has th' ar-rmy started f'r Cuba yet?"
"Wan ar-rmy, says ye? Twinty! Las'
Choosdah an advance ar-rmy iv wan hundherd an' twinty thousand men landed fr'm
th' Gussie, with tin thousand cannons hurlin'
projick-tyles weighin' eight hundherd pounds
sivinteen miles.  Winsdah night a second
ar-rmy iv injineers, miners, plumbers, an'
lawn tinnis experts, numberin' in all four
hundherd an' eighty thousand men, ar-rmed
with death-dealin' canned goods, was hurried
to Havana to storm th' city.
"Thursdah mornin' three thousand full
rigimints iv r-rough  r-riders swum  their
hor-rses acrost to Matoonzas, an' afther a
spirited battle captured th' Rainy Christiny
golf links, two up an' hell to play, an' will



ON WAR PREPARATIONS                7
hold thim   again all comers.   Th' same
afthernoon th' reg'lar cavalry, con-sistin' iv
four hundherd an' eight thousan' wellmounted men, was loaded aboord th' tug
Lucy J., and departed on their earned iv
death amidst th' cheers iv eight millyon
sojers left behind at Chickamaha. These
cav'lry'll  co-operate  with  Commodore
Schlow; an' whin he desthroys th' Spanish
fleet, as he does ivry Sundah an' holy day except in Lent, an' finds out where they ar-re
an' desthroys thim, afther batterin' down
th' forts where they ar-re con-cealed so that
he can't see thim, but thinks they ar-re on
their way f'r to fight Cousin George Dooley,
th' cav'lry will make a dash back to Tampa,
where Gin'ral Miles is preparin' to desthroy
th' Spanish at wan blow,- an' he's th' boy to
blow.
" The gin'ral arrived th' other day, fully
prepared f'r th' bloody wurruk iv war. He
had his intire fam'ly with him. He r-rode
recklessly into camp, mounted on a superb
specyal ca-ar. As himsilf an' Uncle Mike
Miles, an' Cousin Hennery Miles, an' Mas


8             MR. DOOLEY
ter Miles, aged eight years, dismounted fr'm
th' specyal train, they were received with wild
cheers be eight millyon iv th' bravest sojers
that iver give up their lives f'r their counthry. Th' press cinchorship is so pow'rful
that no news is allowed to go out; but I
have it fr'm th' specyal corryspondint iv
Mesilf, Clancy th' Butcher, Mike Casey, an'
th' City Direchtry that Gin'ral Miles instantly repaired himsilf to th' hotel, where
he made his plans f'r cr-rushin' th' Spanyards at wan     blow.   He will equip     th'
ar-rmy with blow-guns at wanst. His uniforms ar-re comin' down in specyal steel
protected bullyon trains fr'm th' mint, where
they've been kept f'r a year. He has ordhered out th' gold resarve f'r to equip his
staff, numberin' eight thousan' men, manny
iv whom ar-re clubmen; an', as soon as he
can have his pitchers took, he will cr-rush
th' Spanish with wan blow. Th' pur-pose
iv th' gin'ral is to permit no delay. Decisive action is demanded be th' people. An',
whin th' hot air masheens has been sint to
th' front, Gin'ral Miles will strike wan blow



ON WAR PREPARATIONS                   9
that'll be th' damdest blow since th' year iv
th' big wind in Ireland.
"Iv coorse, they'se dissinsions in th' cabinet; but they don't amount to nawthin'.
Th' Sicrety iv War is in favor iv sawin' th'
Spanish ar-rmy into two-be-four joists. Th'
Sicrety iv th' Threeasury has a scheme f'r
roonin' thim be lindin' thim money. Th'
Sicrety iv th' Navy wants to sue thim befure th' Mattsachusetts Supreme Coort. I've
heerd that th' Prisident is arrangin' a knee
dhrill, with th' idee iv prayin' th' villyans to
th' divvil. But these diff'rences don't count.
We're all wan people, an' we look to Gin'ral
Miles to desthroy th' Spanish with wan
blow. Whin it comes, trees will be lifted out
be th' roots.  Morro Castle'll cave in, an' th'
air'll be full iv Spanish whiskers. A long
blow, a sthrong blow, an' a blow all together."
"We're a gr-reat people," said Mr. Hennessy, earnestly.
"We ar-re," said Mr. Dooley. "We ar-re
that. An' th' best iv it is, we know we
ar-re."



ON FITZ-HUGH LEE.

" Iv COORSE, he's Irish," said Mr. Dooley.
"Th' Fitz-Hughs an' th' McHughs an' th'
McKeoughs is not far apart.     I have a
cousin be th' name iv McKeough, an' like
as not th' gin'ral is a relation iv mine."
" If I was you, I'd write him an' see," said
Mr. Hennessy. " He's a gr-reat ma-an."
"He is so," said Mr. Dooley. "He is
that.  Wan iv th' gr-reatest.    An' why
shudden't he be with thim two names?
They'se pothry in both iv thim. Fitz-Hugh
Lee! Did ye iver see a pitcher iv him? A
fat ma-an, with a head like a football an' a
neck big enough to pump blood into his
brain an' keep it fr'm   starvin'.  Whitehaired an' r-red-faced. Th' kind iv ma-an
that can get mad in ivry vein in his body.
Whin he's hot, I bet ye his face looks like
a fire in a furniture facthry. Whin a ma-an
goes pale with r-rage, look out f'r a knife
in th' back. But, whin he flames up so that
th' perspi-ration sizzles on his brow, look



ON FITZ-HUGH LEE                 II
out f'r hand an' feet an' head an' coupling
pins an' rapid-firin' guns. Fitz can be ca'm
whin they'se annything to be ca'm about, but
he can't wait. If he was a waiter, he'd be
wurrukin' at th' thrade. Look at th' jaw iv
him! It's like a paving block.
"Does Fitz believe in di-plomacy?    Not
him. He sets there in his office in Havana,
smokin' a good seegar, an' a boy comes in
an' tells him they've jugged an American
citizen.  He jams his hat down on his eyes,
an' r-rushes over to where Gin'ral Blanco
has his office. 'Look here,' says he, 'ye
pizenous riptile,' he says,' if ye don't lave me
counthryman out iv th' bull-pen in fifteen
minyits be th' watch,' he says,' I'll take ye
be th' hair iv th' head an' pull ye fr'm th'
corner iv Halsted Sthreet to th' r-red bridge,'
he says. 'Lave us debate this,' says Blanco.
' I'll debate nawthin', says Fitz.  'Hurry
up, or I'll give ye a slap,' he says. ' R-run
over an' wake up th' loot at th' station,
an' let thim Americans out, or,' he says,
'we'll go to the flure,' he says.



12           MR. DOOLEY
"That's Fitz. He's ca'm, an' he waits
part iv th' time. That's whin he's asleep.
But, as soon as his eyes opins, his face begins
to flare up like wan iv thim r-round stoves
in a woodman's shanty whin rosiny wood is
thrun in. An' fr'm that time on till he's
r-ready to tur-rn in an' sleep peaceful an'
quite,- not like a lamb full iv vigetable food,
but like a line that's wur-rked ha-ard an' et
meat,- he niver stops rampin' an' ragin'.
Ye don't hear iv Fitz lookin' worn with th'
sthruggle. Ye don't r-read iv him missin'
anny meals. No one fears that Fitz will
break down undher th' suspinse. That ain't
in th' breed. He's another kind iv a man.
He hasn't got th' time to be tired an' worrid.
He needs food, an' he has it; an' he needs
sleep, an' he takes it; an' he needs fightin',
an' he gets it. That's Fitz. They ain't
such a lot iv diff'rence between th' bravest
man in the wurruld an' th' cow'rdliest.
Not such a lot.      It ain't a question iv
morality, Hinnissy. I've knowed men that
wint to church ivry Sundah an' holyday



ON FITZ-HUGH LEE                 13
reg'lar, an' give to th' poor an' loved their
neighbors, an' they wudden't defind their
wives   against a  murdherer.     An' I've
knowed th' worst villyuns on earth that'd
die in their thracks to save a stranger's child
fr'm injury. 'Tis a question iv how th'
blood is pumped. Whin a man shows th'
sthrain, whin he gets thin an' pale an' worrid
in th' time f'r fightin', he's mighty near a
cow'rd. But, whin his face flames an' his
neck swells an' his eyes look like a couple
iv ilicthric lamps again a cyclone sky, he'd
lead a forlorn hope acrost th' battlemints iv
hell."



ON MULES AND OTHERS.
"I SEE," said Mr. Dooley, " th' first gr-reat
land battle iv th' war has been fought."
" Where was that? " demanded Mr. Hennessy, in great excitement. " Lord save us,
but where was that? "
"Th' Alger gyards," said Mr. Dooley,
cc bruk fr'm th' corral where they had thim
tied up, atin' thistles, an' med a desp'rate
charge  on   th' camp   at Tampa.     They
dayscinded like a whur-rl-wind, dhrivin' th'
astonished throops befure thim, an' thin
charged back again, completin' their earned
iv desthruction.   At th' las' account th'
brave sojers was climbin' threes an' tillygraft poles, an' a rig'mint iv mules was
kickin' th' pink silk linin' out iv th' officers'
quarthers. Th' gallant mules was led be a
most courageous jackass, an' 'tis undhersthud that me frind Mack will appint him
a brigadier-gin-ral jus' as soon as he can find
out who his father is. 'Tis too bad he'll
have no childher to perpituate th' fame iv



ON MULES AND OTHERS 15
him. He wint through th' camp at th' head
iv his throops iv mules without castin' a
shoe. He's th' biggest jackass in Tampa
to-day, not exciptin' th' cinsor; an' I doubt
if they'se a bigger wan in Wash'n'ton, though
I cud name a few that cud thry a race with
him. Annyhow, they'll know how to reward him. They know a jackass whin they
see wan, an' they see a good manny in that
peaceful city.
"Th' charge iv Tampa'll go into histhry
as th' first land action iv th' war. An', be
th' way, Hinnissy, if this here sociable is f'r
to go on at th' prisint rate, I'm sthrong to
ar-rm th' wild ar-rmy mules an' the unbridled jackasses iv th' pe-rary an' give thim a
chanst to set Cuba free. Up to this time th'
on'y hero kilt on th' Spanish side was a
jackass that poked an ear above th' batthries at Matoonzas f'r to hear what was goin'
on. 'Behold,' says Sampson, 'th' insolince
iv th' foe,' he says. 'For-rm in line iv battle, an' hur-rl death an' desthruction at yon
Castilyan gin'ral.' 'Wait,' says an officer.



16          MR. DOOLEY
'It may be wan iv our own men. It looks
like th' Sicrety iv '-  'Hush! 'says th' commander. 'It can't be an American jackass,
or he'd speak,' he says. 'Fire on him.' Shot
afther shot fell round th' inthrepid ass; but
he remained firm till th' dinnymite boat Vesoovyus fired three hundherd an' forty thousand pounds iv gum cotton at him, an' the
poor crather was smothered to death. Now,
says I, give these Tampa mules a chanst,
an' we'll have no need iv wastin' ammun-nition. Properly led, they'd go fr'm wan end
iv Cuba to th' other, kickin' th' excelsior out
iv ivry stuffed Spanish gin'ral fr'm Bahoohoo
Hoondoo to Sandago de Cuba. They'd be
no loss iv life. Th' sojers who haven't gone
away cud come home an' get cured iv th'
measles an' th' whoopin'-cough an' th' cholera infantum befure th' public schools opens
in th' fall, an' iverything wud be peaceful an'
quiet an' prosp'rous. Th' officers in th' field
at prisint is well qualified f'r command iv th'
new ar-rmy; an', if they'd put blinders on th'
mules, they wudden't be scared back be wan



ON MULES AND OTHERS 17
iv thim Spanish fleets that a jackass sees
whin he's been up all night, secretly stuffing
himsilf with silo. They'd give wan hewhaw, an' follow their leaders through th'
hear-rt iv th' inimy's counthry. But give
thim  th' wurrud to git ap, an' they'd ate
their thistles undher th' guns iv some ol'
Morro Castle befure night.
" Ye don't see th' diff'rence, says ye. They
ain't anny i' th' leaders. As efficient a lot
iv mules as iver exposed their ears. Th'
throuble is with th' rank an' file. They're
men. What's needed to carry on this war
as it goes to-day is an ar-rmy iv jacks an'
mules.   Whin ye say to a man, 'Git ap,
whoa, gee, back up, get alang!' he don't
know what ye'er dhrivin' at or to. But a
mule hears th' ordhers with a melancholy
smile, dhroops his ears, an' follows his
war-rm, moist breath.    Th' ordhers fr'm
Washin'ton is perfectly comprehinsible to a
jackass, but they don't mane annything to a
poor, foolish man. No human bein', Hinnissy, can undherstand what the divvie use



18

MR. DOOLEY

it was to sink a ship that cost two hundherd
thousan' dollars an' was worth at laste eighty
dollars in Sandago Harbor, if we have to
keep fourteen ships outside to prevint five
Spanish ships fr'm sailin'.  Th' poor, tired
human mind don't tumble, Hinnissy, to th'
raison f'r landin' four hundherd marines
at Guanotommy to clear th' forests, whin
Havana is livin' free on hot tamales an' ice--
cream. Th' mind iv a Demostheens or a
Tim Hogan would be crippled thryin' to
figure out why throops ar-re sint out fr'm
Tampa an' thin ordhered back through a
speakin' chube, while wan iv th' new brigadeer-gin'rals has his hands manicured an'
says good-by to his nurse. But it ought to
be as plain to th' mule that hears it as it is to
th' jackasses that gets it up. What we need,
Hinnissy, is a perfect undherstandin' between th' ar-rmy an' th' administhration.
We need what Hogan calls th' esphrite th'
corpse, an' we'll on'y have it whin th' mules
begins to move."
" I shud think," said Mr. Hennessy,



ON MULES AND OTHERS 19
"now that th' jackasses has begun to be
onaisy ""We ought to be afraid th' cabinet an' th'
Boord iv Sthrateejy '11 be stampeded? " Mr.
Dooley interrupted. "Niver fear. They're
too near th' fodder."



ON HIS COUSIN GEORGE.

"WELL," said Mr. Hennessy, in tones of
chastened joy: " Dewey didn't do a thing to
thim. I hope th' poor la-ad ain't cooped
up there in Minneapolis."
"Niver fear," said Mr. Dooley, calmly.
"Cousin George is all r-right."
"Cousin George?" Mr. Hennessy exclaimed.
"Sure," said Mr. Dooley. "Dewey or
Dooley, 'tis all th' same. We dhrop a letter here an' there, except th' haitches,--we
niver dhrop thim,- but we're th' same breed
iv fightin' men. Georgy has th' thraits iv
th' fam'ly. Me uncle Mike, that was a
handy man, was tol' wanst he'd be sint to
hell f'r his manny sins, an' he desarved it;
f'r, lavin' out th' wan sin iv runnin' away fr'm
annywan, he was booked f'r ivrything from
murdher to missin' mass. 'Well,' he says,
'anny place I can get into,' he says, 'I can
get out iv,' he says. 'Ye bet on that,' he
says.



ON   HIS COUSIN       GEORGE       21
"So it is with Cousin George. He knew
th' way in, an' it's th' same way out. He
didn't go in be th' fam'ly inthrance, sneakin'
along with th' can undher his coat. He left
Ding Dong, or whativer 'tis ye call it, an'
says he, 'Thank Gawd,' he says,' I'm where
no man can give me his idees iv how to
r-run a quiltin' party, an' call it war,' he says.
An' so he sint a man down in a divin' shute,
an' cut th' cables, so's Mack cudden't chat
with  him.   Thin he prances up to th'
Spanish forts, an' hands thim a few oranges.
Tosses thim out like a man throwin' handbills f'r a circus. 'Take that,' he says, 'an'
raymimber th' Maine,' he says. An' he
goes into th' harbor, where Admiral Whatth'-'ell is, an', says he, c Surrinder,' he
says. 'Niver,' says th' Dago.  'Well,' says
Cousin George, 'I'll just have to push ye
ar-round,' he says. An' he tosses a few
slugs at th' Spanyards. Th' Spanish admiral
shoots at him with a bow an' arrow, an' goes
over an' writes a cable. 'This mornin' we
was attackted,' he says. 'An,' he says, 'we



22

MR. DOOLEY

fought the inimy with great courage,' he
says.   'Our victhry is com-plete,' he says.
'We have lost ivrything we had,' he says.
'Th' threachrous foe,' he says, ' afther destroyin' us, sought refuge behind a mudscow,' he says; Cbut nawthin' daunted us.
What boats we cudden't r-run ashore we
surrindered,' he says. 'I cannot write no
more,' he says, 'as me coat-tails are afire,'
he says; 'an' I am bravely but rapidly leapin'
fr'm wan vessel to another, followed be me
valiant crew with a fire-engine,' he says.
' If I can save me coat-tails,' he says, 'they'll
be no kick comin', he says. 'Long live
Spain, long live mesilf.'
"Well, sir, in twinty-eight minyits be th'
clock Dewey he had all th' Spanish boats
sunk, an' that there harbor lookin' like a
Spanish stew. Thin he r-run down th' bay,
an' handed a few war-rm wans into th' town.
He set it on fire, an' thin wint ashore to
war-rm his poor hands an' feet. It chills
th' blood not to have annything to do f'r an
hour or more."



ON HIS COUSIN GEORGE 23
"Thin why don't he write something? "
Mr. Hennessy demanded.
"Write? " echoed Mr. Dooley. "Write?
Why shud he write? D'ye think Cousin
George ain't got nawthin' to do but to set
down with a fountain pen, an' write: 'Dear
Mack,-At 8 o'clock I begun a peaceful
blockade iv this town.  Ye can see th'
pieces ivrywhere. I hope ye're injyin' th'
same gr-reat blessin'. So no more at prisint.
Fr'm ye'ers thruly, George Dooley.' He
ain't that kind. 'Tis a nice day, an' he's
there smokin' a good tin-cint see-gar, an'
throwin' dice f'r th' dhrinks. He don't care
whether we know what he's done or not.
I'll bet ye, whin we come to find out about
him, we'll hear he's ilicted himself king iv th'
F'lip-ine Islands. Dooley th' Wanst. He'll
be settin' up there undher a pa'm-three with
naygurs fannin' him an' a dhrop iv licker in
th' hollow iv his ar-rm, an' hootchy-kootchy
girls dancin' befure him, an' ivry tin or
twinty minyits some wan bringin' a prisoner
in. 'Who's this?' says King Dooley. 'A



24           MR. DOOLEY
Spanish gin'ral,' says th' copper. 'Give him
a typewriter an' set him to wurruk,' says th'
king. 'On with th' dance,' he says. An'
afther awhile, whin he gits tired iv th' game,
he'll write home an' say he's got the islands;
an' he'll tur-rn thim over to th' gover'mint
an' go back to his ship, an' Mark Hanna'll
organize th' F'lip-ine Islands Jute an' Cider
Comp'ny, an' th' rivolutchinists'll wish they
hadn't. That's what'll happen.   Mark me
wurrud."



ON SOME ARMY APPOINTMENTS.
"WELL, sir," said Mr. Dooley, "I didn't
vote f'r Mack, but I'm with him now. I
had me doubts whether he was th' gr-reatest
military janius iv th' cinchry, but they'se no
question about it. We go into this war, if
we iver do go into it, with th' most fash'nable ar-rmy that iver creased its pants.
'Twill be a daily hint fr'm Paris to th' crool
foe.
" Other gin'rals iv th' r-rough-house kind,
like Napoleon Bonypart, th' impror iv th'
Frinch, Gin'ral Ulis S. Grant, an' Cousin
George Dooley, hired coarse, rude men that
wudden't know th' diff'rence between goluf
an' crokay, an' had their pants tucked in
their boots an' chewed tobacco be th' pound.
Thank Hivin, McKinley knows betther thin
to sind th' likes iv thim abroad to shock our
frinds be dumpin' their coffee into thimsilves
fr'm a saucer.
" Th' dure bell rings, an' a futman in liv'ry



26           MR. DOOLEY
says: 'I'm Master Willie Dooselbery's man,
an' he's come to be examined f'r th' army,'
says he. ' Admit him,' says McKinley; an'
Master Willie enters, accompanied be his
val-lay, his mah an' pah an' th' comity iv th'
goluf club. 'Willie,' says th' Prisident, 'ye
ar-re enthrin' upon a gloryous car-eer, an'
'tis nic'ssry that ye shud be thurly examined,
so that ye can teach th' glories iv civilization
to th' tyr-ranies iv Europe that is supported
be ye'er pah an' mah,' he says. ''Twud be a
turr'ble thing,' he says, 'if some day they
shud meet a Spanish gin'ral in Mahdrid, an'
have him say to thim, "I seen ye'er son
Willie durin' th' war wearin' a stovepipe hat
an' tan shoes." Let us begin th' examination,' he says.   Ar-re ye a good goluf
player?' 'I am,' says Willie. 'Thin I appint ye a liftnant. What we need in th'
ar-rmy is good goluf players,' he says. ' In
our former war,' he says, 'we had th' misfortune to have men in command that didn't
know th' diff'rence between a goluf stick an'
a beecycle; an' what was th' raysult? We



ON SOME APPOINTMENTS 27
foozled our approach at Bull R-run,' he
says. c Ar-re ye a mimber iv anny clubs?'
he says.   'Four,' says Willie.  'Thin I
make ye a major,' he says. 'Where d'ye
get ye'er pants?' he says. 'Fr'm  England,'
says Willie. 'Gloryous,' says McKinley.
'I make ye a colonel,' he says. 'Let me
thry ye in tactics,' he says. 'Suppose ye
was confronted be a Spanish ar-rmy in th'
afthernoon, how wud ye dhress?' he says.
' I'd wear a stovepipe hat, a long coat, a
white vest, an' lavender pants,' says Willie.
'An' if th' attack was be night?' he says.
c I'd put on me dhress shoot, an' go out to
meet thim,' says Willie. ' A thuro sojer,'
says  McKinley.    'Suppose   th' sociable
lasted all night?' he says.  I'd sound th'
rethreat at daybreak, an' have me brave boys
change back,' he says, 'to suitable appar'l,'
he says. 'Masterly,' says McKinley. 'I
will sind ye'er name in as a brigadier-gin'ral,'
he says. 'Thank Gawd, th' r-rich,' he says,
' is brave an' pathriotic,' he says. c Ye will
jine th' other boys fr'm th' club at Tampa,'



28           MR. DOOLEY
he says. c Ye shud be careful iv ye'er equipment,' he says. ' I have almost ivrything
r-ready,' says Willie. 'Me man attinded to
thim details,' he says. 'But I fear I can't
go to th' fr-ront immejetly,' he says. ' Me
pink silk pijammas hasn't arrived,' he says.
'Well,' says Mack,' 'wait f'r thim,' he says.
I'm anxious f'r to ind this hor'ble war,' he
says, ' which has cost me manny a sleepy
night,' he says; 'but 'twud be a crime f'r to
sind a sojer onprepared to battle,' he says.
'Wait f'r th' pijammas,' he says. 'Thin on
to war,' he says; 'an' let ye'er watchword be,
" Raymimber ye'er manners,"' he says.
"' They'se a man out here,' says th' privit
sicrity,' that wants to see ye,' he says. ' He's
a r-rough-lookin' charackter that was in th'
Soo war,' he says. ' His name is Gin'ral
Fiteum,' he says. 'Throw th' stiff out,'
says Mack. 'I seen him in Pinnsylvania
Avnoo yisterdah, r-ridin' in a sthreet ca-ar,'
he says.  'Ah, Willie, me boy,' he says,' 'tis
little ye.know what throuble I have fr'm
these vulgar sojers with pants that bags at



ON SOME APPOINTMENTS 29
th' knees. Give me a goold-tipped cigareet,
an' tell me whether shirt waists is much
worn in New York this year.'
"Yis, Hinnissy, we'll put th' tastiest
ar-rmy in th' field that iver come out iv a
millinery shop. 'Right dhress!' will be an
ordher that'll mean somethin'. Th' ar-rmy'll
be followed be specyal correspondints fr'm
Butthrick's Pattherns an' Harper's Bazar;
an', if our brave boys don't gore an' pleat
th' inimy, 'twill be because th' inimy'll be
r-rude enough to shoot in anny kind iv
clothes they find on th' chair whin they
wake up."



ON STRATEGY.

" A STHRATEEJAN," said Mr. Dooley, in response to Mr. Hennessy's request for information, "is a champeen checker-player.
Whin th' war broke out, me frind Mack
wint to me frind Hanna, an' says he, 'What,'
he says, 'what can we do to cr-rush th'
haughty power iv Spain,' he says, 'a'n
br-ring this hateful war to a early conclusion?" he says.    'Mobilize th' checkerplayers,' says Hanna. An' fr'm all cor-rners
iv th' counthry they've gone to Washin'ton,
where they're called th' Sthrateejy Board.
" Day an' night they set in a room with a
checker-board on th' end iv a flour bar'l, an'
study problems iv th' navy. At night Mack
dhrops in. 'Well, boys,' says he, 'how goes
th' battle?' he says. 'Gloryous,' says th'
Sthrateejy Board. 'Two more moves, an'
we'll be in th' king row.' 'Ah,' says Mack,
'this is too good to be thrue,' he says. 'In
but a few brief minyits th' dhrinks'll be on
Spain,' he says. 'Have ye anny plans f'r



ON STRATEGY                31
Sampson's fleet?' he says. 'Where is it?'
says th' Sthrateejy Board. 'I dinnaw,' says
Mack. 'Good,' says th' Sthrateejy Board.
'Where's th' Spanish fleet?' says they.
c Bombardin' Boston, at Cadiz, in San June
de Matzoon, sighted near th' gashouse be
our special correspondint, copyright, 1898,
be Mike O'Toole.' 'A     sthrong position,'
says th' Sthrateejy Board. 'Undoubtedly,
th' fleet is headed south to attack and seize
Armour's glue facthory. Ordher Sampson
to sail north as fast as he can, an' lay in a
supply iv ice. Th' summer's comin' on.
Insthruct Schley to put on all steam, an' thin
put it off again, an' call us up be telephone.
R-rush eighty-three millyon throops an' four
mules to Tampa, to Mobile, to Chickenmaha,
to Coney Island, to Ireland, to th' divvle, an'
r-rush thim back again. Don't r-rush thim.
Ordher Sampson to pick up th' cable at Lincoln Par-rk, an' run into th' bar-rn. Is th'
balloon corpse r-ready?  It is?  Thin don't
sind it up. Sind it up. Have th' Mulligan
Gyards co-op'rate with Gomez, an' tell him



32

MR. DOOLEY

to cut away his whiskers. They've got tangled in th' riggin'. We need yellow-fever
throops. Have ye anny yellow fever in th'
house? Give it to twinty thousand three
hundherd men, an' sind thim afther Gov'nor Tanner.    Teddy   Rosenfelt's r-rough
r-riders ar-re downstairs, havin' their uniforms pressed. Ordher thim to th' goluf
links at wanst. They must be no indecision.   Where's Richard   Harding Davis?
On th' bridge iv the New York? Tur-rn th'
bridge. Seize Gin'ral Miles' uniform.. We
must strengthen th' gold resarve. Where's
th' Gussie?  Runnin' off to Cuba with wan
hundherd men an' ar-rms, iv coorse. Oh,
war is a dhreadful thing. It's ye'er move,
Claude,' says th' Sthrateejy Board.
at An' so it goes on; an' day by day we
r-read th' tur-rble story iv our brave sthrateejans sacrificin' their time on th' altar iv
their counthry, as Hogan says. Little we
thought, whin we wint into this war, iv th'
horrors it wud bring. Little we thought iv
th' mothers at home weepin' f'r their brave



ON STRATEGY

33

boys down at Washin'ton hur-rtin their poor
eyes over a checker-board. Little we thought
iv these devoted men, as Hogan says, with
achin' heads, plannin' to sind three hundherd
thousand millyon men an' a carload iv beans
to their fate at Tampa, Fla. But some wan
must be sacrificed, as Hogan says. An'
these poor fellows in Washin'ton with their
r-red eyes an' their tired backs will be an
example to future ginerations, as Hogan
says, iv how an American sojer can face
his jooty whin he has to, an' how he can't
whin he hasn't to."
" Dewey ain't a sthrateejan? " inquired
Mr. Hennessy.
" No," said Mr. Dooley. " Cousin George
is a good man, an' I'm very fond iv him,more be raison iv his doin' that May-o bosthoon Pat Mountjoy, but he has low tastes.
We niver cud make a sthrateejan iv him.
They'se a kind iv a vulgar fightin' sthrain in
him that makes him want to go out an' slug
some wan wanst a month. I'm glad he ain't
in Washin'ton. Th' chances ar-re he'd go to
th' Sthrateejy Board and pull its hair."



ON GENERAL MILES'S MOONLIGHT EXCURSION.
"DEAR, oh, dear," said Mr. Dooley, " I'd
give five dollars - an' I'd kill a man f'r
three - if I was out iv this Sixth Wa-ard
to-night, an' down with Gin'ral Miles' gran'
picnic an' moonlight excursion in Porther
Ricky. 'Tis no comfort in bein' a cow'rd
whin ye think iv thim br-rave la-ads facin'
death be suffication in bokays an' dyin' iv
waltzin' with th' pretty girls iv Porther
Ricky.
" I dinnaw whether Gin'ral Miles picked
out th' job or whether 'twas picked out f'r
him. But, annyhow, whin he got to Sandago de Cubia an' looked ar-round him, he
says to his frind Gin'ral Shafter, 'Gin'ral,'
says he, 'ye have done well so far,' he says.
''Tis not f'r me to take th' lorls fr'm th'
steamin' brow iv a thrue hero,' he says. ' I
lave ye here,' he says, 'f'r to complete th'
victhry ye have so nobly begun,' he says.
'F'r you,' he says, 'th' wallop in th' eye fr'm



A MOONLIGHT EXCURSION 35
th' newspaper rayporther, th' r-round robbing, an' th' sunsthroke,' he says, 'f'r me th'
hardship iv th' battlefield, th' late dinner,
th' theayter party, an' th' sickenin' polky,' he
says. ' Gather,' he says, 'th' fruits iv ye'er
bravery,' he says. 'Return,' he says, 'to
ye'er native land, an' receive anny gratichood th' Sicrety iv War can spare fr'm his
own fam'ly,' he says. 'F'r me,' he says,
'there is no way but f'r to tur-rn me back
upon this festive scene,' he says, 'an' go
where jooty calls me,' he says. 'Ordherly,'
he says, 'put a bottle on th' ice, an' see that
me goold pants that I wear with th' pale
blue vest with th' di'mon buttons is irned
out,' he says. An' with a haggard face he
walked aboord th' excursion steamer, an'
wint away.
"I'd hate to tell ye iv th' thriles iv th'
expedition, Hinnissy. Whin th' picnic got
as far as Punch, on th' southern coast iv
Porther Ricky, Gin'ral Miles gazes out, an'
says he, 'This looks like a good place to
hang th' hammicks, an' have lunch,' says



36            MR. DOOLEY
he.  'Forward, brave men,' says he, 'where
ye see me di'mon's sparkle,' says he. ' Forward, an' plant th' crokay ar-rches iv our
beloved counthry,' he says.     An' in they
wint, like inthrepid warryors that they ar-re.
On th' beach they was met be a diligation
fr'm th' town of Punch, con-sistin' iv th'
mayor, th' common council, th' polis an' fire
departments, th' Gr-rand Ar-rmy iv th' Raypublic, an' prominent citizens in carredges.
Gin'ral Miles, makin' a hasty tielet, advanced onflinchingly to meet thim. C Gintlemen,' says he, 'what can I do f'r ye?' he
says. 'We come,' says th' chairman iv th'
comity, 'f'r to offer ye,' he says, 'th' r-run
iv th' town,' he says. 'We have held out,'
he says, 'as long as we cud,' he says. 'But,'
he says, 'they'se a limit to human endurance,' he says.   'We can withstand ye no
longer,' he says. 'We surrinder. Take us
prisoners, an' rayceive us into ye'er gloryous
an' well-fed raypublic,' he says.   'Br-rave
men,' says Gin'ral Miles,'I congratulate ye,'
he says, 'on th' heeroism iv yer definse,' he



A MOONLIGHT EXCURSION 37
says.   'Ye stuck   manfully to yer colors,
whativer they ar-re,' he says.  'I on'y wondher that ye waited f'r me to come befure
surrindhrin,' he says.  'I welcome ye into
th' Union,' he says.  'I don't know how th'
Union'll feel about it, but that's no business
iv  mine,' he   says.   'Ye will get ye'er
wur-rkin-cards fr'm th' walkin' diligate,' he
says; 'an' ye'll be entitled,' he says, 'to pay
ye'er share iv th' taxes an' to live awhile an'
die whin ye get r-ready,' he says, 'jus' th'
same as if ye was bor-rn at home,' he says.
'I don't know th' names iv ye; but I'll call
ye all Casey, f'r short,' he says.  'Put ye'er
bokays in th' hammick,' he says, 'an' return
to Punch,' he says; 'an' freeze somethin' f'r
me,' he says, 'f'r me thrawt is parched with
th' labors iv th' day,' he says. Th' r-rest iv
th' avenin' was spint in dancin,' music, an'
boat-r-ridin'; an' an inj'yable time was had.
" Th' nex' day th' army moved on Punch;
an' Gin'ral Miles marched into th' ill-fated
city, preceded be flower-girls sthrewin' r-roses
an' geranyums befure him. In th' afthernoon they was a lawn tinnis party, an' at



38

MR. DOOLEY

night the gin'ral attinded a banket at th'
Gran' Palace Hotel. At midnight he was
serenaded be th' Raymimber th' Maine Banjo
an' Mandolin Club. Th' entire popylace
attinded, with pork chops in their buttonholes to show their pathreetism. Th' nex'
day, afther breakfastin' with Mayor Casey,
he set out on his weary march over th'
r-rough, flower-strewn paths f'r San Joon.
He has been in gr-reat purl fr'm a witherin'
fire iv bokays, an' he has met an' overpowered some iv th' mos' savage orators in Porther Ricky; but, whin I las' heerd iv him, he
had pitched his tents an' ice-cream freezers
near the inimy's wall, an' was grajully silencin' thim with proclamations."
"They'll kill him with kindness if he
don't look out," said Mr. Hennessy.
" I dinnaw about that," said Mr. Dooley;
"but I know this, that there's th' makin' iv
gr-reat statesmen  in  Porther Ricky.    A
proud people that can switch as quick as
thim la-ads have nawthin' to larn in th' way
iv what Hogan calls th' signs iv gover'mint,
even fr'm th' Supreme Court."



ON ADMIRAL DEWEY'S
ACTIVITY.
"IF they don't catch up with him pretty
soon," said Mr. Dooley, " he'll fight his way
ar-round th' wurruld, an' come out through
Bar-saloona or Cades."
" Who's that? " asked Mr. Hennessy.
" Me Cousin George, no less," said Mr.
Dooley. " I suppose ye think th' war is
over an' peace has rayturned jus' because
Tiddy Rosenfelt is back home again an' th'
sojers ar-re hungry in New York 'stead iv
in Sandago.   That's where ye'er wrong,
Hinnissy. That's where ye'er wrong, me
bucko. Th' war is not over till Cousin
George stops fightin'. Th' Spanyards have
had enough, but among thrue fightin' men
it don't make anny diff'rence what th' feelin's iv th' la-ad undherneath may be. 'Tis
whin th' man on top has had his fill iv fightin' that th' throuble's over, an' be the look
iv things Cousin George has jus' begun to
take tay.



40

MR. DOOLEY

"Whin me frind Mack con-eluded 'twas
time f'r us to stop fightin' an' begin skinning each other in what Hogan calls th'
marts iv thrade, ye thought that ended it.
So did Mack. He says, says he, 'Let us
have peace,' he says. An' Mark Hanna
came out iv' th' cellar, where he's been since
Cousin George presinted his compliments to
th' Ph'lippines an' wud they prefer to be kilt
or dhrownded, an' pro-posals was made to
bond th' Cubian pathrites, an' all th' deuces
in th' deck begun to look like face car-rds
again, whin suddently there comes a message
fr'm  Cousin George.   'In pursooance iv
ordhers that niver come,' he says,'to-day th'
squadhron undher my command knocked
th' divvle out iv th' fortifications iv th' Ph'lippines, bombarded the city, an' locked up
th' insurgent gin'ral. The gov'nor got away
be swimmin' aboord a Dutch ship, an' th'
Dutchman took him to Ding Dong. I'll
attind to th' Dutchman some afthernoon
whin I have nawthin' else to do. I'm settin'
in the palace with me feet on th' pianny.



ON ADMIRAL DEWEY

41

Write soon. I won't get it. So no more at
prisint, fr'm ye'er ol' frind an' well-wisher,
George Dooley.'
" How ar-re they goin' to stop him?
How ar-re they goin' to stop him? There's
Mack on th' shore bawlin' ordhers. 'Come
back,' he says. 'Come back, I com-mand
ye,' he says. 'George, come back,' he says.
'Th' war is over,' he says. 'We're at peace
with th' wurruld,' he says.   'George,' he
says, 'George, be a good fellow,' he says.
'Lave up on thim,' he says. 'Hivins an'
earth, he's batin' that poor Spanyard with a
pavin' block. George, George, ye break me
hear-rt,' he says.
" But George Dooley, he gives th' wink
to his frinds, an' says he, 'What's that man
yellin' on  th' shore   about?'   he  says.
'Louder,' he says. 'I can't hear ye,' he
says. 'Sing it,' he says. 'Write it to me
on a postal ca-ard at Mahdrid,' he says.
'Don't stop me now,' he says. 'This is me,
busy day,' he says; an' away he goes with a
piece iv lead pipe in wan hand an' a couplin'
pin in th' other.



42

MR. DOOLEY

"What'll we do with him?      We can't
catch up with him. He's goin' too fast.
Mack's a week behind him ivry time he
stops annywhere. He has sthrung a throlley acrost th' islands, an' he's climbin' mcuntains with his fleet. Th' on'y thing I see,
Hinnissy, that Mack can do is to go east
an' meet him comin' r-round. If he hurries,
he'll sthrike him somewhere in Rooshia or
Boohlgahria, an' say to him: 'George, th'
war's over.   Won't ye come home with
me?' I think he'll listen to reason."
" I think a man ought to stop fightin'
whin th' war is ended," said Mr. Hennessy.
" I dinnaw about that," said Mr. Dooley.
"He started without askin' our lave, an' I
don't see what we've got to do with th'
way he finishes. 'Tis a tur-rble thing to be
a man iv high sperrits, an' not to know whin
th' other fellow's licked."



ON THE PHILIPPINES.

SI KNOW what I'd do if I was Mack,"
said Mr. Hennessy. "I'd hist a flag over
th' Ph'lippeens, an' I'd take in th' whole
lot iv thim."
"An' yet," said Mr. Dooley, "tis not
more thin two months since ye lamed
whether they were islands or canned goods.
Ye'er back yard is so small that ye'er cow
can't turn r-round without buttin' th' woodshed off th' premises, an' ye wudden't go
out to th' stock yards without takin' out a
policy on yer life. Suppose ye was standin'
at th' corner iv State Sthreet an' Archey
R-road, wud ye know what car to take to
get to th' Ph'lippeens? If yer son Packy
was to ask ye where th' Ph'lippeens is, cud
ye give him anny good idea whether they
was in Rooshia or jus' west iv th' thracks?"
"Mebbe I cudden't," said Mr. Hennessy,
haughtily, "but I'm fr takin' thim in, annyhow."
"So might I be," said Mr. Dooley, "if I



44

MR. DOOLEY

cud on'y get me mind on it. Wan iv the
worst things about this here war is th' way
it's makin' puzzles f'r our poor, tired heads.
Whin I wint into it, I thought all I'd have
to do was to set up here behind th' bar with
a good tin-cint see-gar in me teeth, an' toss
dinnymite bombs into th' hated city iv Havana. But look at me now. Th' war is still
goin' on; an' ivry night, whin I'm countin'
up the cash, I'm askin' mesilf will I annex
Cubia or lave it to the Cubians? Will I take
Porther Ricky or put it by? An' what shud
I do with the Ph'lippeens? Oh, what shud
I do with thim? I can't annex thim because
I don't know where they ar-re. I can't let
go iv thim because some wan else'll take
thim if I do. They are eight thousan' iv
thim islands, with a popylation iv wan hundherd millyon naked savages; an' me bedroom's crowded now with me an' th' bed.
How can I take thim in, an' how on earth
am I goin' to cover th' nakedness iv thim
savages with me wan shoot iv clothes? An'
yet 'twud break me heart to think iv givin'



ON   THE PHILIPPINES             45
people I niver see or heerd tell iv back to
other people I don't know. An', if I don't
take thim, Schwartzmeister down th' sthreet,
that has half me thrade already, will grab
thim sure.
" It ain't that I'm afraid iv not doin' th'
r-right thing in th' end, Hinnissy. Some
mornin' I'll wake up an' know jus' what to
do, an' that I'll do. But 'tis th' annoyance
in th' mane time. I've been r-readin' about
th' counthry. 'Tis over beyant ye'er left
shoulder whin ye're facin' east. Jus' throw
ye'er thumb back, an' ye have it as ac'rate as
anny man in town. 'Tis farther thin Boohlgahrya an' not so far as Blewchoochoo. It's
near Chiny, an' it's not so near; an', if a
man was to bore a well through fr'm Goshen,
Indianny, he might sthrike it, an' thin again
he might not. It's a poverty-sthricken counthry, full iv goold an' precious stones, where
th' people can pick dinner off th' threes an'
ar-re starvin' because they have no stepladders.  Th' inhabitants is mostly naygurs an' Chinnymen, peaceful, industhrus,



46           MR. DOOLEY
an' law-abidin', but savage an' bloodthirsty in
their methods. They wear no clothes except
what they have on, an' each woman has five
husbands an' each man has five wives. Th'
r-rest goes into th' discard, th' same as here.
Th' islands has been ownded be Spain since
befure th' fire; an' she's threated thim so
well they're now up in ar-rms again her,
except a majority iv thim which is thurly
loyal. Th' natives seldom fight, but whin
they get mad at wan another they r-runa-muck. Whin a man r-runs-a-muck, sometimes they hang him an' sometimes they
discharge him an' hire a new motorman.
Th' women ar-re beautiful, with languishin'
black eyes, an' they smoke see-gars, but
ar-re hurried an' incomplete in their dhress.
I see a pitcher iv wan th' other day with
nawthin' on her but a basket of cocoanuts
an' a hoop-skirt. They're no prudes. We
import juke, hemp, cigar wrappers, sugar, an'
fairy tales fr'm th' Ph'lippeens, an' export
six-inch shells an' th' like.  Iv late th'
Ph'lippeens has awaked to th' fact that



ON THE PHILIPPINES

47

they're behind th' times, an' has received
much American amminition in their midst.
They say th' Spanyards is all tore up
about it.
c"I lamed all this fr'm th' papers, an' I
know 'tis sthraight. An' yet, Hinnissy, I
dinnaw what to do about th' Ph'lippeens.
An' I'm all alone in th' wurruld. Ivrybody
else has made up his mind. Ye ask anny
con-ducthor on Ar-rchy R-road, an' he'll tell
ye. Ye can find out fr'm the papers; an', if
ye really want to know, all ye have to do is
to ask a prom'nent citizen who can mow all
th' lawn he owns with a safety razor. But I
don't know."
" Hang on to thim," said Mr. Hennessy,
stoutly. "What we've got we must hold."
" Well," said Mr. Dooley, "if I was
Mack, I'd lave it to George.     I'd say:
SGeorge,' I'd say, 'if ye're f'r hangin' on,
hang on it is. If ye say, lave go, I dhrop
thim.' 'Twas George won thim with th'
shells, an' th' question's up to him."



ON PRAYERS FOR VICTORY.
" IT looks to me," said Mr. Dooley, " as
though me frind Mack'd got tired iv th'
Sthrateejy Board, an' was goin' to lave th'
war to th' men in black."
"How's that?" asked Mr. Hennessy,
who has at best but a clouded view of public
affairs.
C Well," said  Mr. Dooley, "while th'
sthrateejans have been wearin' out their
jeans on cracker - boxes in Wash'n'ton,
they'se been goin' on th' mos' deadly conflict iver heerd tell iv between th' pow'rful
preachin' navies iv th' two counthries.
Manila is nawthin' at all to th' scenes iv
carnage an' slaughter, as Hogan says, that's
been brought about be these desthroyers.
Th' Spanyards fired th' openin' gun whin
th' bishop iv Cades, a pow'rful turreted
monitor (ol' style), attackted us with both
for'ard guns, an' sint a storm iv brimstone
an' hell into us. But th' victhry was not
f'r long with th' hated Spanyard. He was



ON PRAYERS FOR VICTORY 49
answered be our whole fleet iv preachers.
Thin he was jined be th' bishop iv Barsaloona an' th' bishop iv Mahdrid an' th'
bishop iv Havana, all battle-ships iv th'
first class, followed be a fleet iv cruisers
r-runnin' all th' way fr'm  a full-ar-rmored
vicar gin'ral to a protected parish priest.
To meet thim, we sint th' bishop iv New
York, th' bishop iv Philadelphia, th' bishop
iv Baltimore, an' th' bishop iv Chicago, accompanied be a flyin' squadhron iv Methodists, three Presbyteryan monitors, a fleet iv
Baptist submarine desthroyers, an' a formidable array iv Universalist an' Unitaryan
torpedo boats, with a Jew r-ram.    Manetime th' bishop iv Manila had fired a solid
prayer, weighin' a ton, at San Francisco;
an' a masked batthry iv Congregationalists
replied, inflictin' severe damage. Our Atlantic fleet is now sarchin' f'r th' inimy, an'
the bishop iv New York is blockadin' th'
bishop iv Sandago de Cuba; an' they'se
been an exchange iv prayers between th'
bishop iv Baltimore an' th' bishop iv Havana without much damage.



50

MR. DOOLEY

"Th' Lord knows how it'll come out.
First wan side prays that th' wrath iv
Hiven'll descind on th' other, an' thin th'
other side returns th' compliment with inthrest. Th' Spanish bishop says we're a lot
iv murdherin', irreligious thieves, an' ought
to be swept fr'm th' face iv th' earth. We
say his people ar-re th' same, an' manny iv
thim. He wishes Hivin to sink our ships
an' desthroy our men; an' we hope he'll
injye th' same gr-reat blessin'. We have a
shade th' best iv him, f'r his fleets ar-re all
iv th' same class an' ol' style, an' we have
some iv th' most modhern prayin' machines
in the warruld; but he prays har-rd, an' 'tis
no aisy wurruk to silence him."
cc What d'ye think about it?" asked Mr.
Hennessy.
" Well," said Mr. Dooley, Cc I dinnaw
jus' what to think iv it. Me own idee is
that war is not a matther iv prayers so much
as a matther iv punchin'; an' th' on'y place
a prayer book stops a bullet is in th' story
books. 'Tis like what Father Kelly said.



ON PRAYERS FOR VICTORY pi
Three weeks ago las' Sundah he met Hogan;
an' Hogan, wantin' to be smart, ast him if
he'd offered up prayers f'r th' success iv th'
cause. ' Faith, I did not,' says th' good man.
' I was in too much iv a hurry to get away.'
'What was th' matther?' ast Hogan. cI
had me uniform to brush up an' me soord to
polish,' says Father Kelly. ' I am goin' with
th' rig'mint to-morrah,' he says; an' he says,
' If ye hear iv me waitin' to pray,' he says,
' anny time they'se a call f'r me,' he says,
'to be in a fight,' he says, 'ye may conclude,' he says, ' that I've lost me mind, an'
won't be back    to me parish,' he says.
SHogan,' he says, ' I'll go into th' battle
with a prayer book in wan hand an' a soord
in th' other,' he says; ' an,' if th' wurruk calls
f'r two hands, 'tis not th' soord I'll dhrop,'
he says. c Don't ye believe in prayer?' says
Hogan. 'I do,' says th' good man; 'but,'
he says, 'a healthy person ought,' he says,
'to be ashamed,' he says, 'to ask f'r help in
a fight,' he says."
" That's th' way I look at it," said Mr.



52          MR. DOOLEY
Hennessy. "When 'tis an aven thing in
th' prayin', may th' best man win."
"Ye're r-right, Hinnissy," said Mr. Dooley, warmly. "Ye're r-right. An' th' best
man will win."



ON THE ANGLO-SAXON.

C" WELL," said Mr. Dooley, "I see be th'
pa-apers that th' snow-white pigeon iv peace
have tied up th' dogs iv war. It's all over
now. All we've got to do is to arrest th'
pathrites an' make th' reconcenthradios pay
th' stamp tax, an' be r-ready f'r to take a
punch at Germany or France or Rooshia or
anny counthry on th' face iv th' globe.
CC An' I'm glad iv it. This war, Hinnissy,
has been a gr-reat sthrain on me. To think
iv th' suffrin' I've endured! F'r weeks I
lay awake at nights fearin' that th' Spanish
ar-rmadillo'd lave the Cape Verde Islands,
where it wasn't, an' take th' thrain out here,
an' hur-rl death an' desthruction into me
little store. Day be day th' pitiless exthries
come out an' beat down on me. Ye hear iv
Teddy Rosenfelt plungin' into ambus-cades
an' Sicrity iv Wars; but d'ye hear iv Martin
Dooley, th' man behind th' guns, four thousan' miles behind thim, an' willin' to be further?  They ar-re no bokays f'r me. I'mn



54          MR. DOOLEY
what Hogan calls wan iv th' mute, ingloryous heroes iv th' war; an' not so dam mute,
ayther. Some day, Hinnissy, justice'll be
done me, an' th' likes iv me; an', whin th'
story iv a gr-reat battle is written, they'll
print th' kilt, th' wounded, th' missin', an'
th' seryously disturbed. An' thim that have
bore thimsilves well an' bravely an' paid th'
taxes an' faced th' deadly newspa-apers without flinchin' '11 be advanced six pints an'
given a chanst to tur-rn jack f'r th' game.
" But me wurruk ain't over jus' because
Mack has inded th' war an' Teddy Rosenfelt
is comin' home to bite th' Sicrety iv War.
You an' me, Hinnissy, has got to bring on
this here Anglo-Saxon 'lieance. An AngloSaxon, Hinnissy, is a German that's forgot
who was his parents. They're a lot iv thim
in this counthry. There must be as manny
as two in Boston: they'se wan up in Maine,
an' another lives at Bogg's Ferry in New
York State, an' dhrives amilk wagon. Mack
is an Anglo-Saxon. His folks come fr'm
th' County Armagh, an' their naytional



ON THE ANGLO-SAXON            SS
Anglo-Saxon hymn is ' O'Donnell Aboo.'
Teddy Rosenfelt is another Anglo-Saxon.
An' I'm an Anglo-Saxon. I'm wan iv th'
hottest Anglo-Saxons that iver come out iv
Anglo-Saxony. Th' name iv Dooley has
been th' proudest Anglo-Saxon name in th'
County Roscommon f'r many years.
" Schwartzmeister is an Anglo-Saxon, but
he doesn't know it, an' won't till some wan
tells him. Pether Bowbeen down be th'
Frinch church is formin' th' Circle Francaize
Anglo-Saxon club, an' me ol' frind Dominigo that used to boss th' Ar-rchey
R-road wagon whin Callaghan had th' sthreet
conthract will march at th' head iv th' Dago
Anglo-Saxons whin th' time comes. There
ar-re twinty thousan' Rooshian Jews at a
quarther a vote in th' Sivinth Ward; an',
ar-rmed with rag hooks, they'd be a tur-rble thing f'r anny inimy iv th' Anglo-Saxon
'lieance to face. Th' Bohemians an' Pole
Anglo-Saxons may be a little slow in wakin'
up to what th' pa-apers calls our common
hurtage, but ye may be sure they'll be all



56          MR. DOOLEY
r-right whin they're called on. We've got
together an Anglo-Saxon 'lieance in this
wa-ard, an' we're goin' to ilict Sarsfield
O'Brien prisidint, Hugh O'Neill Darsey
vice-prisidint, Robert Immitt Clancy sicrety,
an' Wolfe    Tone   Malone    three-asurer.
O'Brien'll be a good wan to have. He
was in the Fenian r-raid, an' his father carrid a pike in forty-eight. An' he's in th'
Clan. Besides, he has a sthrong pull with
th' Ancient Ordher iv Anglo-Saxon Hibernyans.
"I tell ye, whin th' Clan an' th' Sons iv
Sweden an' th' Banana Club an' th' Circle
Francaize an' th' Pollacky Benivolent Society an' th' Rooshian Sons of Dinnymite
an' th' Benny Brith an' th' Coffee Clutch
that Schwartzmeister r-runs an' th' Turrnd'ye-mind an' th' Holland society an' th'
Afro-Americans an' th' other Anglo-Saxons
begin f'r to raise their Anglo-Saxon battlecry, it'll be all day with th' eight or nine
people in th' wurruld that has th' misfortune
iv not bein' brought up Anglo-Saxons."



ON THE ANGLO-SAXON             57
" They'se goin' to be a debate on th'
'lieance at th' ninety-eight picnic at Ogden's
gr-rove," said Mr. Hennessy.
" P'r'aps," said Mr. Dooley, sweetly," ye
might like to borry th' loan iv an ice-pick."



ON A LETTER FROM THE
FRONT.
MR. DOOLEY looked important, but affected indifference, as he mopped the bar.
Mr. Hennessy, who had learned to study
his friend in order to escape disagreeable
complications, patiently waited for the philosopher to speak. Mr. Dooley rubbed the
bar to the end, tossed the cloth into a mysterious recess with a practised movement,
moved a glass or two on the shelf, cleaned
his spectacles, and drew a letter from his
pocket.
" Hm-m! " he said: " I have news fr'm
th' fr-ront. Me nevvew, Terry Donahue,
has sint me a letther tellin' me all about it."
" How shud he know?" Mr. Hennessy
asked.
" How shud he know, is it? " Mr. Dooley
demanded warmly.    "How shudden't he
know? Isn't he a sojer in th' ar-rmy?
Isn't it him that's down there in Sandago
fightin' f'r th' honor iv th' flag, while th'



A LETTER FROM THE FRONT 59
likes iv you is up here livin' like a prince,
an' doin' nawthin' all th' livelong day but
shovel at th' rollin'-mills?  Who are ye f'r
to criticize th' dayfinders iv our counthry
who ar-re lyin' in th' trinches, an' havin' th'
clothes stole off their backs be th' pathriotic
Cubians, I'd like to know?  F 'r two pins,
Hinnissy, you an' I'd quarrel."
c" I didn't mean nawthin'," Mr. Hennessy
apologized. " I didn't know he was down
there."
"Nayether did    I," said Mr. Dooley.
"But I informed     mesilf.  I'll have no
wan in this place speak again th' ar-rmy.
Ye can have ye'er say about Mack. He
has a good job, an' 'tis r-right an' proper f'r
to baste him fr'm time to time. It shows
ye'er in good thrim, an' it don't hur-rt him.
They'se no wan to stop his pay. He goes
up to th' cashier an' dhraws his forty-wansixty-six jus' th' same whether he's sick or
well, an' whether he's pulled th' box reg-lar
or has been playin' forty-fives in th' back
room. But whin ye come to castin' asper


60o

MR. DOOLEY

sions on th' ar'rmy, be hivens, ye'll find that
I can put me thumb on this showcase an' go
over at wan lep."
" I didn't say annything," said Mr. Hennessy. cc I didn't know about Terry."
cc Iv coorse, ye didn't," said Mr. Dooley.
" An' that's what I'm sayin'. Ye're here
wallowin' in luxury, wheelin' pig ir'n fr'm
morn till night; an' ye have no thought iv
what's goin' on beyant. You an' Jawn D.
Rockefeller an' Phil Ar-rmour an' Jay Pierpont Morgan an' th' r-rest iv ye is settin'
back at home figurin' how ye can make
some wan else pay ye'er taxes f'r ye. What
is it to ye that me nevvew Terry is sleepin'
in ditch wather an' atin' hard tacks an'
coffee an' bein' r-robbed be leeber Cubians,
an' catchin' yallow fever without a chanst iv
givin' it to e'er a Spanyard. Ye think more
iv a stamp thin ye do iv ye'er counthry.
Ye're like th' Sugar Thrust. F'r two cints
ye'd refuse to support th' govermint. I
know ye, ye bloated monno-polist."
" I'm no such thing," said Mr. Hennessy,



A LETTER FROM THE FRONT 61
hotly. c I've been a Dimmycrat f'r thirty
year."
"Well, annyhow," said    Mr. Dooley,
"don't speak disrayspictful iv th' ar-rmy.
Lave me r-read you Terry's letter fr'm th'
fr-ront. ' M-m: In th' trinches, two miles
fr'm Sandago, with a land crab as big as a
lobster crawlin' up me back be way iv Kingston, June 6, Dear Uncle Martin.' That's
th' way it begins. c Dear Uncle Martin:
We are all well here, except thim that is not,
an' hope ye're injyin' th' same gr-reat blessin'.
It's hotter down here thin Billy-be-dam'd.
They'se a rollin'-mill near here jus' th' same
as at home, but all th' hands is laid off on
account iv bad times. They used ol'-fashioned wooden wheelbahrs an' fired with
wood. I don't think they cud handle th'
pig th' way we done, bein' small la-ads. Th'
coke has to be hauled up in sacks be th'
gang. Th' derrick hands got six a week, but
hadn't anny union. Helpers got four twinty.
Puddlers was well paid. I wint through th'
plant befure we come up here, an' r-run a



62          MR. DOOLEY
wagon up th' plank jus' to keep me hand
in. Tell me frinds that wan gang iv good
la-ads fr'm th' r-road cud wurruk anny three
iv th' gangs down here. Th' mills is owned
be Rockefellar, so no more at prisint fr'm
yer affecshunate nevvew, Peter Casey, who's
writin' this f'r me.'"
"'Tis a good letter," said Mr. Hennessy.
" I don't see how they cud get derrick hands
f'r six a week."
"Me frind Jawn D. knows how," said
Mr. Dooley.



ON OUR CUBAN ALLIES.

" WELL, sir," said Mr. Dooley, "dam
thim Cubians! If I was Gin'ral Shafter, I'd
back up th' wagon in front iv th' dure, an'
I'd say to Gin'ral Garshy, I'd say, C I want
you'; an' I'd have thim all down at th'
station an' dacently booked be th' desk
sergeant befure th' fall iv night. Th' impydince iv thim! "
" What have they been doin'?"       Mr.
Hennessy asked.
" Failin' to undherstand our civilization,"
said Mr. Dooley. C" Ye see, it was this way.
This is th' way it was: Gin'ral Garshy
with wan hundherd thousan' men's been
fightin' bravely f'r two years f'r to liberyate
Cubia. F'r two years he's been marchin'
his sivinty-five thousan' men up an' down
th' island, desthroyin' th' haughty Spanyard
be th' millyons. Whin war was declared,
he offered his own sarvice an' th' sarvices iv
his ar-rmy iv fifty thousan' men to th'
United States; an', while waitin' f'r ships to



64

MR. DOOLEY

arrive, he marched at th' head iv his tin
thousan' men down to Sandago de Cuba an'
captured a cigar facthry, which they soon
rayjooced  to  smokin' ruins.    They was
holdin' this position - Gin'ral Garshy an'
his gallant wan thousan' men - whin Gin'ral
Shafter arrived.  Gin'ral Garshy immedjitly
offered th' sarvices iv himsilf an' his two
hundherd men f'r th' capture iv Sandago;
an', when Gin'ral Shafter arrived, there was
Gin'ral Garshy with his gallant band iv fifty
Cubians, r-ready to eat at a minyit's notice.
"Gin'ral Shafter is a big, coorse, two-fisted
man fr'm Mitchigan, an', whin he see Gin'ral
Garshy an' his twinty-five gallant followers,
'Fr-ront,' says he.   'This way,' he says,
'step lively,' he says, 'an' move some iv
these things,' he says. 'Sir,' says Gin'ral
Garshy, cd'ye take me f'r a dhray?' he
says. 'I'm   a sojer,' he says, 'not a baggage car,' he says. ' I'm a Cubian pathrite,
an' I'd lay down me life an' the lives iv ivry
wan iv th' eighteen brave men iv me devoted ar-rmy,' he says; ' but I'll be dam'd if



ON OUR CUBAN ALLIES 65
I carry a thrunk,' he says. c I'll fight whiniver 'tis cool,' he says, c an' they ain't wan iv
these twelve men here that wudden't follow
me to hell if they was awake at th' time,' he
says; 'but,' he says, 'if 'twas wurruk we were
lookin' f'r, we cud have found it long ago,'
he says. 'They'se a lot iv it in this counthry that nobody's usin',' he says. 'What
we want,' he says, 'is freedom,' he says;
C an', if ye think we have been in th' woods
dodgin' th' savage corryspondint f'r two
year,' he says, 'f'r th' sake iv r-rushin' yer
laundhry home,' he says, 'tis no wondher,'
he says, ' that th' r-roads fr'm Marinette to
Kalamazoo is paved with goold bricks
bought be th' people iv ye'er native State,'
he says.
"cc So Shafter had to carry his own thrunk;
an' well it was f'r him that it wasn't Gin'ral
Miles', the weather bein' hot. An' Shafter
was mad clear through; an', whin he took
hold iv Sandago, an' was sendin' out invitations, he scratched Garshy. Garshy took
his gallant band iv six back to th' woods; an'



66

MR. DOOLEY

there th' three iv thim ar-re now, ar-rmed
with forty r-rounds iv canned lobster, an'
ready to raysist to th' death. Him an' th'
other man has written to Gin'ral Shafter to
tell him what they think iv him, an' it don't
take long."
"Well," said Mr. Hennessy, "I think
Shafter done wrong. He might've asked
Garshy in f'r to see th' show, seein' that
he's been hangin' ar-round f'r a long time,
doin' th' best he cud."
"It isn't that," explained Mr. Dooley.
" Th' throuble is th' Cubians don't undherstand our civilization. Over here freedom
means hard wurruk. What is th' ambition
iv all iv us, Hinnissy? 'Tis ayether to hold
our job or to get wan. We want wurruk.
We must have it. D'ye raymimber th' sign
th' mob carrid in th' procession las' year?
'Give us wurruk, or we perish,' it said.
They had their heads bate in be polismen
because no philan-thropist'd come along an'
make thim shovel coal. Now, in Cubia,
whin th' mobs turns out, they carry a banner



ON OUR CUBAN ALLIES 67
with the wurruds, c Give us nawthin' to do,
or we perish.' Whin a Cubian comes home
at night with a happy smile on his face, he
don't say to his wife an' childher, Thank
Gawd, I've got wurruk at last!' He says,
'Thank Gawd, I've been fired.' An' th'
childher go out, and they say, ' Pah-pah has
lost his job.' And Mrs. Cubian buys hersilf a new bonnet; and where wanst they was
sorrow an' despair all is happiness an' a cottage organ.
"Ye can't make people here undherstand
that, an' ye can't make a Cubian undherstand that freedom means th' same thing as
a pinitinchry sintince. Whin we thry to get
him to wurruk, he'll say: 'Why shud I?
I haven't committed anny crime.' That's
goin' to be th' throuble. Th' first thing
we know we'll have another war in Cubia
whin we begin disthributin' good jobs, twelve
hours a day, wan sivinty-five. Th' Cubians
ain't civilized in our way. I sometimes think
I've got a touch iv Cubian blood in me own
veins."



ON THE DESTRUCTION OF
CERVERA'S FLEET.
[These comments were made by Mr. Dooley during a strike of the
stereotypers, which caused the English newspapers of Chicago temporarily to suspend publication.
S"I HEAR," said Mr. Hennessy, " that th'
stereopticons   on    th'  newspapers     have
sthruck."
" I sh'd think they wud," said Mr. Dooley.
" Th' las' time I was down town was iliction
night, whin Charter Haitch's big la-ad was
ilicted, an' they was wurrukin' th' stereopticons till they was black in th' face. What's
th' news?"
"Th' What Cheer, Ioway, Lamp iv Freedom is on th' sthreets with a tillygram that
Shafter has captured Sandago de Cuba, an'
is now settin' on Gin'ral Pando's chest with
his hands in his hair. But this is denied be
th' Palo Gazoot, the Macoupin County Raygisther, an' th' Meridyan Sthreet Afro-American. I also see be th' Daily Scoor Card, th'
Wine List, th' Deef Mute's Spokesman, th'



ON   CERVERA'S FLEET            69
Morgue Life, the Bill iv Fare, th' Stock
Yards Sthraight Steer, an' Jack's Tips on
th' Races, the on'y daily paper printed in
Chicago, that Sampson's fleet is in th' Suez
Canal bombarding     Cades.   Th' Northwestern Christyan Advycate says this is not
thrue, but that George Dixon was outpointed
be an English boxer in a twinty-r-round
go in New York."
"Ye've got things mixed up," said Mr.
Dooley. cc I get th' news sthraight. 'Twas
this way. Th' Spanish fleet was bottled up
in Sandago Harbor, an' they dhrew th' cork.
That's a joke. I see it in th' pa-apers. Th'
gallant boys iv th' navy was settin' out on th'
deck, defindin' their counthry an' dhrawin'
three ca-ards apiece, whin th' Spanish admiral
con-cluded 'twud be better f'r him to be
desthroyed on th' ragin' sea, him bein' a
sailor, thin to have his fleet captured be
cav'lry. Annyhow, he was willin' to take a
chance; an' he says to his sailors: c Spanyards,' he says, ' Castiles,' he says, ' we have
et th' las' bed-tick,' he says; an', if we stay



70

MR. DOOLEY

here much longer,' he says, 'I'll have to
have a steak off th' armor plate fried f'r ye,'
he says. 'Lave us go out where we can
have a r-run f'r our money,' he says. An'
away they wint. I'll say this much f'r him,
he's a brave man, a dam brave man. I
don't like a Spanyard no more than ye do,
Hinnissy. I niver see wan. But, if this
here man was a--was a Zulu, I'd say he
was a brave man. If I was aboord wan
iv thim yachts that was convarted, I'd go
to this here Cervera, an' I'd say: Manuel,' I'd say, 'ye're all right, me boy. Ye
ought to go to a doctor an' have ye'er eyes
re-set, but ye're a good fellow. Go downstairs,' I'd say, ' into th' basemint iv the
ship,' I'd say, ' an' open th' cupboard jus'
nex' to th' head iv th' bed, an' find th' bottle
marked " Floridy Wather," an' threat ye'ersilf kindly.' That's what I'd say to Cervera.
He's all right.
" Well, whin our boys see th' Spanish fleet
comin' out iv th' harbor, they gathered on
th' deck an' sang th' naytional anthem,



ON CERVERA'S FLEET

71

'They'll be a hot time in th' ol' town tonight.' A lift-nant come up to where Admiral Sampson was settin' playin' sivin up
with Admiral Schley. 'Bill,' he says, 'th'
Spanish fleet is comin' out,' he says.  What
talk have ye?' says Sampson. 'Sind out
some row-boats an' a yacht, an' desthroy thim.
Clubs is thrumps,' he says, and he wint on
playin'. Th' Spanish fleet was attackted on
all sides be our br-rave la-ads, nobly assisted
be th' dispatch boats iv the newspapers.
Wan by wan they was desthroyed. Three
battleships attackted th' convarted yacht
Gloucester.  Th' Gloucester used to    be
owned be Pierpont Morgan; but 'twas convarted, an' is now leadin' a dacint life. Th'
Gloucester sunk thim all, th' Christobell
Comma, the     Viscera, an' th' Admiral
O'Quinn. It thin wint up to two Spanish
torpedo boats an' giv thim wan punch, an'
away they wint. Be this time th' sojers had
heerd of the victhry, an' they gathered on th'
shore, singin' th' naytional anthem, 'They'll
be a hot time in th' ol' town to-night, me



72          MR. DOOLEY
babby.' Th' gloryous ol' chune, to which
Washington an' Grant an' Lincoln marched,
was took up be th' sailors on th' ships, an'
Admiral Cervera r-run wan iv his boats
ashore, an' jumped into th' sea. At last
accounts th' followin' dispatches had been
received: c To Willum McKinley: Congratulations on ye'er noble victhry.  (Signed)
Willum McKinley.' c To Russell A. Alger:
Ye done splendid.    (Signed) Russell A.
Alger.' c To James Wilson, Sicrety iv Agriculture: This is a gr-reat day f'r loway.
Ar-re ye much hur-rted? (Signed) James
Wilson.' "
" Where did ye hear all this?" asked Mr.
Hennessy, in great amazement.
cc I r-read it," said Mr. Dooley, impressively, cc in the Staats Zeitung."



ON A LETTER TO MR. DEPEW.
"I USEN'T to know," said Mr. Dooley,
"what me frind Gin'ral Sherman meant whin
he said that thing about war.   I've been
through two iv thim, not to speak iv convintions an' prim'ries, an' divvle th' bit iv
har-rm come to me no more thin if I was
settin' on a roof playin' an accorjeen. But
I know now what th' ol' la-ad meant. He
meant war was hell whin 'twas over.
"I ain't heerd anny noise fr'm th' fellows
that wint into threnches an' plugged th'
villyanious Spanyard. Most iv thim is too
weak to kick. But th' proud an' fearless
pathrites  who  restrained  thimsilves, an'
didn't go to th' fr-ront, th' la-ads that
sthruggled hard with their warlike tindincies,
an' fin'lly downed thim an' stayed at home
an' practised up upon th' typewriter, they're
ragin' an' tearin' an' desthroyin' their foes.
"Did ye see what me frind Alger wrote
to Chansy Depoo?     Well, sir, Alger has
been misthreated. There's a good man. I



74

MR. DOOLEY

say he's a good man. An' he is, too. At
anny thrick fr'm shingles to two-be-fours
he's as good as th' best. But no wan apprechated Alger. No wan undherstud him.
No wan even thried to. Day be day he
published th' private letters iv other people,
an' that didn't throw anny light on his
charackter. Day be day he had his pitchers
took, an' still th' people didn't get onto th'
cur-rves iv him. Day be day he chatted
iv th' turrors iv war, an' still people on'y
said: An' Alger also r-ran.' But th' time
come whin Alger cud contain himsilf no
longer, an' he set down an' wrote to Chansy
Depoo.
'c Mr. Chansy Depot, care iv Grand Cintral Depew, New York, N.Y., Esquire.
Dear Chanse: I've been expectin' a letter
fr'm ye f'r three or four days. In reply to
same will say: Oh, Chanse, ye don't know
how I suffer. I'm that low in me mind I
feel like a bunch iv lathes. Oh, dear, to
think iv what I've gone through. I wint
into th' war onprepared. I had on'y so



ON A LETTER TO MR. DEPEW 75
many r-rounds iv catridges an' a cross-cut
saw, an' I failed to provide mesilf with th'
ord'nary necessities iv life. But, in spite iv
me deficiencies, I wint bravely ahead. Th'
sthrain was something tur-r'ble on me. Me
mind give out repeatedly. I cud not think
at times, but I niver faltered.   In two
months I had enough supplies piled up in
Maine to feed ivry sojer in Cubia. They
were thousands iv r-rounds iv catridges f'r
ivry rig'mint, and all th' rig'mints had to do
was to write f'r thim. Th' navy had taken
Manila an' Cervera's fleet, an' th' ar-rmy had
taken Sandago an' th' yellow fever. Th'
war is over, an' peace wanst more wags her
wings over th' counthry. Pine scantlings
is quoted sthrong. Ivrywhere is peace an'
con-tint. Me photographs are on sale at
all first-class newsdealers. Yet there is no
ca'm f'r me. Onthinkin' wans insult me.
They tell me a sojer can't ate gin'ral ordhers. They want me to raysign an' go
back to me humble home in Mitchigan.
Disgustin' men that've done nawthin' but
get thimsilves shot, ask f'r milk an' quinine.



76

MR. DOOLEY

They'll be askin' me to carry food to thim
nex'. Oh, Chanse, oh, hivens, ye can't
know how grieved I am! Rather wud I
have perished in a log jam thin to've indured
this ingratichood. But, in lookin' back over
me past life, I can think iv no wrong I've
done. If me mim'ry is at fault, please note.
Me career is an open book. I've held nawthin' back fr'm th' public, not even whin
'twas mar-rked private. I can say with th'
pote that I done me jooty.        But, oh,
Chanse! don't iver aspire to my job. Be
sicrety of war, if ye will; but niver be sicrety iv A war. Do not offer this letter to
th' newspapers. Make thim take it. How's
things goin' with ye, ol' pal? I hope to see
ye at th' seaside. Till thin, I'm yours, sick
at heart, but atin' reg'lar.    Russ.' "
"Well," said Mr. Hennessy, " th' poor
man must've had a har-rd time iv it."
"He did," said Mr. Dooley.       "Niver
laid his head to a pillow befure eight, up
with th' moon: he's suffered as no man can
tell. But he'll be all r-right whin his mind's
at r-rest."



ON THE PRESIDENT'S CAT.
"'TWAs this way about Dr. Huckenlooper. Mack has a cat that was give him
f'r a Chris'mas prisint be me frind Pierpont
Morgan, an' th' cat was a gr-reat favor-ite in
th' White House.   'Twas as quite as th'
Sicrety iv Agriculture an' as affectionate as
th' Sicrety iv th' Three-asury. Th' cat was
called Goold Bonds, because iv th' inthrest
he dhrew.   He very often played with th'
Sicrety iv th' Navy, an' ivry wan that come
to th' White House f'r a job loved him.
" But wan day Goold Bonds begun to look
bad. He cudden't ate th' r-rich crame out
iv th' di'mon'-studded saucer. He stopped
castin' an eye at th' c'nary in th' cage. Whin
th' Sicrety iv th' Navy wint down f'r to
play with him, Goold Bonds spit at that
good an' gr-reat man. Mack was shavin'
himsilf befure th' lookin'-glass, an' had jus'
got his face pulled r-round to wan side f'r a
good gash, whin he heerd a scream iv ag'ny
behind him, an' tur-rned to see Goold Bonds



78

MR. DOOLEY

leap up with his paws on his stomach an' hit
th' ceilin'. Mack give a cry iv turror, an'
grabbed at Goold Bonds. Away wint Goold
Bonds through th' house.      Th' Sicrety iv
War seen him comin', an' called, 'Pussy,
pussy.' Goold Bonds wint through his legs,
an' galloped f'r where th' Postmaster-gin'ral
was settin' editin' his pa-aper. Th' Postmaster-gin'ral had jus' got as far as 'we
opine,' whin he see Goold Bonds, an' he bate
th' cat to th' windy be a whisker.
" Well, Goold Bonds ended up in th' coal
cellar, an' they was a cab'net council f'r to
see what was to be done. ' Sind f'r Doctor
Heinegagubler,' says th' Sicrety iv War.
'He's wan iv th' gr-reatest surgeons iv our
time,' he says, ' an' can cure annything fr'm
pips to glanders,' he says.     Th' famous
Doctor Honeycooler was summoned. 'Sir,'
says Mack, ' Goold Bonds, th' pride iv th'
administhration, has had    a  fit,' he says.
C'Twud br-reak our hear-rts to lose our little
pet,' he says.   'c Go,' he says, 'an' take
such measures as ye'er noble healin' ar-rt



ON THE PRESIDENT'S CAT 79
sug-gists,' he says; ' an' may th' prayers iv
an agonized foster-parent go with ye,' he
says. An' Doctor Higgenlocker wint down
into th' coal-shed; an' whin he come back,
it was with Goold Bonds in his ar-rms, weak
an' pale, but with a wan smile on his lips.
"Afther   embracin' Goold    Bonds an'
tuckin' him away in bed, Mack tur-rns to
th' Dock. 'Dock,' he says, 'ye have performed a noble sarvice,' he says. 'I appint
ye a major-gin'ral,' he says.   'I'm   that
already,' says th' Dock. 'I've r-rich relatives in Philadelphia,' he says. 'But,' says
Mack, ''tis a shame to think iv ye'er noble
sarvices bein' wasted,' he says, 'whin ye'er
counthry calls,' he says. ' I appint ye,' he
says, 'surgeon-gin'ral,' he says. 'Pro-ceed,'
he says, ' to Cubia, an' stamp out th' dhread
ravages,' he says, 'iv r-ringbone an' staggers,' he says.
"That's how Dock got th' job. He was
a gr-reat man down there, an' now he's wan
iv th' vethranaryans iv th' war. Ye heerd
iv typhoid an' yellow fever in th' threnches;



80          MR. DOOLEY
but did ye hear annything iv spavin or th'
foot-an'-mouth disease? Not wanst. Dock
was on jooty late an' early. Sleepless an'
vigilant, he stood beside th' suffrin' mules,
allayin' their pain, an' slowly but surely
dhraggin' thim out iv th' clutches iv pinkeye an' epizootic. He had a cheery wurrud,
a pleasant smile, an' a bottle iv liniment f'r
wan an' all. He cured Teddy Rosenfelt's
hor-rse iv intherference an' made a soothin'
lotion iv axle-grease f'r Gin'ral Shafter's
buckboard. Ye might see him anny time
wandhrin' through th' camp with a hatful
of oats or a wisp of hay. They called him
th' Stall Angel, and countless thousands iv
sick hor-rses blessed him. He's a gr-reat
man is th' Dock. But, if it hadn't been f'r
Goold Bonds, th' counthry wud niver have
had his sarvices.  Who knows but that
Mack's cat was th' rale victhor at Sandago?"
"Didn't he cure anny men?" asked Mr.
Hennessy.
" Sure," said Mr. Dooley. "He cured
Teddy Rosenfelt iv boltin'."



ON A SPEECH BY PRESIDENT
McKINLEY.
C I HEAR-R that Mack's in town," said
Mr. Dooley.
" Didn't ye see him?" asked Mr. Hennessy.
"Faith, I did not!" said Mr. Dooley.
"If 'tis meetin' me he's afther, all he has to
do is to get on a ca-ar an' r-ride out to number nine-double-naught-nine Archey R-road,
an' stop whin he sees th' sign iv th' Tipp'rary Boodweiser Brewin' Company. I'm
here fr'm eight in the mornin' till midnight,
an' th' r-rest iv th' time I'm in the back room
in th' ar-rms iv Or-rphyus, as Hogan says.
Th' Presidint is as welcome as anny rayspictable marrid man. I will give him a chat
an' a dhrink f'r fifteen cints; an', as we're
not, as a frind iv mine in th' grocery an'
pothry business says, intirely a commercial
an' industhreel nation, if he has th' Sicrety
iv th' Threasury with him, I'll give thim two
f'r twinty-five cints, which is th' standard iv



82

MR. DOOLEY

value among civilized nations th' wurruld
over. Prisidint iv th' United States, says
ye?   Well, I'm prisidint iv this liquor store,
fr'm th' pitcher iv th' Chicago fire above th'
wash-stand in th' back room to th' dure-step.
Beyond that belongs to th' polisman on th'
bate. An Amurrican's home, as wan iv th'
potes says, is his castle till th' morgedge
falls due. An' divvle a fut will I put out iv
this dure to see e'er a prisidint, prince, or
potentate, fr'm th' czar iv Rooshia to th'
king iv Chiny. There's Prisidint Mack at
th' Audjiotoroom, an' here's Prisidint Dooley
at nine-double-naught-nine, an' th' len'th iv
th' sthreet between thim. Says he, ' Come
over to th' hotel an' see me.'    Says I, ' If
ye find ye'ersilf thrun fr'm a ca-ar in me
neighborhood, dhrop      in.'  An' there ye
ar-re.
" I may niver see him. I may go to me
grave without gettin' an' eye on th' wan
man besides mesilf that don't know what th'
furrin' policy iv th' United States is goin' to
be. An he, poor man, whin some wan asts



A SPEECH BY THE PRESIDENT 83
him, ' Did ye iver meet Dooley:' '11 have to
say, 'No, I had th' chanst wanst, but me
accursed pride kept me from visitin' him.'
" I r-read his speeches, though, an' know
what he's doin'. Some iv thim ar-re gr-reat.
He attinded th' banket given be th' Prospurity Brigade at th' hotel where he's stoppin'. 'Twas a magnificent assimblage iv th'
laborin' classes, costin' fifteen dollars a plate,
an' on'y disturbed whin a well-to-do gintleman in th' dhry-goods business had to be
thrun out f'r takin' a kick at a waiter. I
r-read be th' papers that whin Mack come
in he was rayceived be th' gatherin' with
shouts iv approval.     Th' proceedin's was
opened with a prayer that Providence might
r-remain undher th' protection iv th' administhration. Th' Sicrety iv th' Treasury followed with a gran' speech, highly commindin' th' action iv th' threasury department
durin' th' late war; ' but,' says he, 'I cannot,' he says, 'c so far forget mesilf,' he says,
'as not to mintion,' he says, ' that,' he says,
'if it hadn't been f'r the sublime pathreetism



84

MR. DOOLEY

an' courage,' he says,' iv th' gintleman whom
we honor,' he says,    in puttin' me on th'
foorce,' he says, I might not be here tonight,' he says.
"Th' Sicrety iv th' Threasury was followed be th' Gin'ral Shafter.   'Gintlemen,'
says he, 'it gives me,' he says, 'gr-reat
pleasure,' he says, ' to be prisint in th' mist
iv so manny an' so various vittles,' he says.
' Iv coorse,' he says, ' I re-elize me own
gr-reat worth,' he says; ' but,' he says, ' I
wud have to be more thin human,' he says,
Sto overlook th' debt iv gratichood,' he says,
Sth' counthry owes,' he says, 'to th' man
whose   foresight,  wisdom, an' prudence
brought me for-ard at such an opparchune
time,' he says. ' Gintlemen,' he says, ' onless ye have lived in th' buckboard f'r
months on th' parched deserts iv Cubia,'
he says, ' ye little know what a pleasure it
is,' he says, 'to dhrink,' he says, 'to th'
author iv our bein' here,' he says. An'
Gin-ral Miles wint out an' punched th'
bell-boy. Mack r-rose up in a perfect hur


A SPEECH BY THE PRESIDENT 85
cane iv applause, an' says he, ' Gintlemen,'
he says, C an' fellow-heroes,' he says, 'ye
do me too much honor,' he says. c I alone
shud not have th' credit iv this gloryous
victhry.  They ar-re others.'    [A   voice:
'Shafter.'  Another voice: 'Gage.'      Another voice: ' Dooley.'] 'But I pass to a
more conganial line ~iv thought,' he says.
c We have just emerged fr'm a turrible war,'
he says. 'Again,' he says, 'we ar-re a united
union,' he says. c No north,' he says, 'no
south, no east,' he says, ' no west. No north
east a point east,' he says. 'c Th' inimies iv
our counthry has been cr-rushed,' he says, c or
is stuck down in Floridy with his rig'mint
talkin',' he says, 'his hellish docthrines to
th' allygatars,' he says.   'Th' nation is
wanst more at peace undher th' gran' goold
standard,' he says. 'c Now,' he says, 'th'
question is what shall we do with th' fruits
iv victhry?' he says. [A voice, ' Can thim.']
C Our duty to civilization commands us to be
up an' doin',' he says. 'We ar-re bound,'
he says, cto -  to re-elize our destiny, what


86           MR. DOOLEY
iver it may be,' he says. c We can not tur-rn
back,' he says, ' th' hands iv th' clock that,
even as I speak,' he says, 'is r-rushin'
through   th' hear-rts iv   men,' he    says,
c dashin' its spray against th' star iv liberty
an' hope, an' no north, no south, no east,
no west, but a steady purpose to do th' best
we can, considerin' all th' circumstances iv
the case,' he says. C I hope I have made
th' matther clear to ye,' he says, c an', with
these few remarks,' he says, 'I will tur-rn
th' job over to destiny,' he says, cwhich is
sure to lead us iver on an' on, an' back an'
forth, a united an' happy people, livin',' he
says, 'undher an administhration that, thanks
to our worthy Prisidint an' his cap-ble an'
earnest advisers, is second to none,' he says."
"What do you think ought to be done
with th' fruits iv victhry?" Mr. Hennessy
asked.
"Well," said Mr. Dooley, "if 'twas up
to me, I'd eat what was r-ripe an' give what
wasn't r-ripe to me inimy. An' I guess
that's what Mack means."



ON THE HERO IN POLITICS.
" 'Tis as much as a man's life is worth
these days," said Mr. Dooley, "to have a
vote.  Look here," he continued, diving
under the bar and producing a roll of paper.
" Here's th' pitchers iv candydates I pulled
down fr'm th' windy, an' jus' knowin' they're
here makes me that nervous f'r th' contints
iv th' cash dhrawer I'm afraid to tur-rn me
back f'r a minyit. I'm goin' to throw thim
out in th' back yard.
"All heroes, too, Hinnissy.   They'se
Mike O'Toole, th' hero iv Sandago, that
near lost his life be dhrink on his way to th'
arm'ry, an' had to be sint home without lavin'
th' city. There's Turror Teddy Mangan,
th' night man at Flaher-ty's, that loaded th'
men that loaded th' guns that kilt th' mules
at Matoonzas. There's Hero O'Brien, that
wud've inlisted if he hadn't been too old, an'
th' contractin' business in such good shape.
There's Bill Cory, that come near losin' his
life at a cinematograph iv th' battle iv



88           MR. DOOLEY
Manila. They're all here, bedad, r-ready
to sarve their country to th' bitter end, an'
to r-rush, voucher in   hand, to th' city
threasurer's office at a minyit's notice.
" I wint to a hero meetin' th' other night,
Hinnissy, an' that's sthrange f'r me. Whin
a man gets to be my age, he laves th'
shoutin' f'r th' youth iv th' land, onless he
has a pol-itical job. I niver had a job but
wanst. That was whin I was precin't cap'n;
-an' a good wan I was, too. None betther.
I'd been on th' cinthral co-mity to-day, but
f'r me losin' ambition whin they r-run a
man be th' name iv Eckstein f'r aldherman.
I was sayin', Hinnissy, whin a man gets to
be my age, he ducks pol-itical meetin's, an'
r-reads th' papers an' weighs th' ividence an'
th' argymints,- pro-argymints an' con-argymints,- an' makes up his mind ca'mly, an'
votes th' Dimmycratic ticket. But young
Dorsey he med me go with him to th' hero's
meetin' in Finucane's hall.
cc Well, sir, there was O'Toole an' all th'
rest on th' platform in unyform, with flags



ON THE HERO IN POLITICS 89
over thim, an' the bands playin' 'They'll be
a hot time in th' ol' town to-night again';
an' th' chairman was Plunkett.   Ye know
Plunkett: a good man if they was no gr-rand
juries. He was makin'a speech. ' Whin th'
battle r-raged,' he says, ' an' th' bullets fr'm
th' haughty Spanyards' raypeatin' Mouser
r-rifles,' he says, 'where was Cassidy?' he
says. ' In his saloon,' says I, in I'mrald
Av'noo,' says I. ' Thrue f'r ye,' says Plunkett. 'An' where,' he says, 'was our candydate?' he says.    'In somebody else's
saloon,' says I. 'No,' says he. 'Whin th'
Prisidint,' he says, 'called th' nation to
ar-rms,' he says, an' Congress voted fifty
million good bucks f'r th' naytional definse,' he says, 'Thomas Francis Dorgan,'
he says, ' in that minyit iv naytional pearl,'
says he, 'left his good job in the pipe-yard,'
he says, 'an' wint down to th' raycruitin'
office, an' says, ccHow manny calls f'r volunteers is out? " he says. "Wan," says th'
officer.  cc Put me down," says Dorgan,
"f'r th' tenth call," he says. This, gintle


90

MR. DOOLEY

men iv th' foorth precin't,' he says, 'is
Thomas Francis Dorgan, a man who, if
ilicted,' he says, 'victhry'll perch,' he says,
C upon our banners,' he says; 'an',' he says,
c th' naytional honor will be maintained,' he
says, ' in th' county boord,' he says.
cc I wint out to take th' air, an' I met me
frind Clohessy, th' little tailor fr'm Halsted Sthreet. Him an' me had a shell iv
beer together at th' German's; an' says
I, c What d'ye think iv th' heroes?' I says.
SWell,' says he, c I make no doubt 'twas
brave iv Dorgan,' he says, c f'r to put his
name in f'r th' tenth call,' he says; c but,' he
says, c I don't like Plunkett, an' it seems to
me a man'd have to be a hell iv a sthrong
man, even if he was a hero, to be Plunkett's
man, an' keep his hands out iv ye'er pockets,' he says. c I'm with Clancy's candydate,'
he says. c He niver offered to enlist for th'
war,' he says, 'but 'twas Clancy put Terence
on th' polis foorce an' got th' school f'r
Aggie,' he says.
"That's the way I feel," said Mr. Hen


ON THE HERO IN POLITICS 91
nessy. " I wudden't thrust Plunkett as far
as I cud throw a cow be th' tail. If Dorgan
was Clancy's war hero, I'd be with him."
"Annyhow," said Mr. Dooley, "mighty
few iv th' rale heroes iv th' war is r-runnin'
f'r office. Most iv thim put on their blue
overalls whin they was mustered out an' wint
up an' ast f'r their ol' jobs back -an' sometimes got thim. Ye can see as manny as
tin iv thim at the rollin'-mills defindin' th'
nation's honor with wheelbahr's an' a slag
shovel."





MR. DOOLEY IN PEACE





ON   NEW    YEAR'S RESOLUTIONS.
MR. HENNESSY looked out at the rain
dripping down in Archey Road, and sighed,
"A-ha, 'tis a bad spell iv weather we're
havin'."
" Faith, it is," said Mr. Dooley, CC or else
we mind it more thin we did. I can't remimber wan day fr'm another. Whin I was
young, I niver thought iv rain or snow, cold
or heat. But now th' heat stings an' th'
cold wrenches me bones; an', if I go out in
th' rain with less on me thin a ton iv rubber,
I'll pay dear f'r it in achin' j'ints, so I will.
That's what old age means; an' now another
year has been put on to what we had befure,
an' we're expected to be gay. c Ring out th'
old,' says a guy at th' Brothers' School.
c Ring out th' old, ring in th' new,' he says.
c Ring out th' false, ring in th' thrue,' says
he. It's a pretty sintimint, Hinnissy; but
how ar-re we goin' to do it?  Nawthin'd
please me betther thin to turn me back on
th' wicked an' ingloryous past, rayform me



96          MR. DOOLEY
life, an' live at peace with th' wurruld to th'
end iv me days. But how th' divvle can I
do it? As th' fellow says, ' Can th' leopard
change his spots,' or can't he?
" You know Dorsey, iv coorse, th' crosseyed May-o man that come to this counthry
about wan day in advance iv a warrant f'r
sheep-stealin'? Ye know what he done to
me, tellin' people I was caught in me cellar
poorin' wather into a bar'l? Well, last
night says I to mesilf, thinkin' iv Dorsey, I
says: ' I swear that henceforth I'll keep me
temper with me fellow-men.    I'll not let
anger or jealousy get th' betther iv me,' I
says. c I'll lave off all me old feuds; an' if
I meet me inimy goin' down th' sthreet, I'll
go up an' shake him be th' hand, if I'm sure
he hasn't a brick in th' other hand.' Oh, I
was mighty compliminthry to mesilf. I set
be th' stove dhrinkin' hot wans, an' ivry
wan I dhrunk made me more iv a pote.
'Tis th' way with th' stuff. Whin I'm in
dhrink, I have manny a fine thought; an', if
I wasn't too comfortable to go an' look f'r



NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTIONS 97
th' ink-bottle, I cud write pomes that'd make
Shakespeare an' Mike Scanlan think they
were wur-rkin' on a dredge. CWhy,' says
I, 'carry into th' new year th' hathreds iv th'
old?' I says. ' Let th' dead past bury its
dead,' says I. 'Tur-rn ye'er lamps up to
th' blue sky,' I says. (It was rainin' like th'
divvle, an' th' hour was midnight; but I give
no heed to that, bein' comfortable with th'
hot wans.) An' I wint to th' dure, an', whin
Mike Duffy come by on number wan hundherd an' five, ringin' th' gong iv th' ca-ar, I
hollered to him: c Ring out th' old, ring in
th' new.' ' Go back into ye'er stall,' he says,
San' wring ye'ersilf out,' he says. 'Ye'er
wet through,' he says.
" Whin I woke up this mornin', th' pothry
had all disappeared, an' I begun to think th'
las' hot wan I took had somethin' wrong
with it. Besides, th' lumbago was grippin'
me till I cud hardly put wan foot befure th'
other. But I remimbered me promises to
mesilf, an' I wint out on th' sthreet, intindin'
to wish ivry wan a ' Happy New Year,' an'



98

MR. DOOLEY

hopin' in me hear-rt that th' first wan I
wished it to'd tell me to go to th' divvle, so
I cud hit him in th' eye. I hadn't gone
half a block befure I spied Dorsey acrost th'
sthreet. I picked up a half a brick an' put
it in me pocket, an' Dorsey done th' same.
Thin we wint up to each other. c A Happy
New Year,' says I. c Th' same to you,'
says he, c an' manny iv thim,' he says. 'Ye
have a brick in ye'er hand,' says I. CI was
thinkin' iv givin' ye a New Year's gift,' says
he. 'c Th' same to you, an' manny iv thim,'
says I, fondlin' me own ammunition. "'Tis
even all around,' says he. c It is,' says I.
SI was thinkin' las' night I'd give up me
gredge again ye,' says he.   I had th' same
thought mesilf,' says I. c But, since I seen
ye'er face,' he says, C I've con-cluded that I'd
be more comfortable hatin' ye thin havin' ye
f'r a frind,' says he. c Ye're a man iv taste,'
says I. An' we backed away fr'm each
other. He's a Tip, an' can throw a stone
like a rifleman; an', Hinnissy, I'm somethin' iv an amachoor shot with a half-brick
mesilf.



NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTIONS 99
"Well, I've been thinkin' it over, an'
I've argied it out that life'd not be worth
livin' if we didn't keep our inimies. I can
have all th' frinds I need. Anny man can
that keeps a liquor sthore.   But a rale
sthrong inimy, specially a May-o inimy,wan that hates ye ha-ard, an' that ye'd take
th' coat off yer back to do a bad tur-rn to,is a luxury that I can't go without in me ol'
days. Dorsey is th' right sort. I can't go
by his house without bein' in fear he'll spill
th' chimbly down on me head; an', whin he
passes my place, he walks in th' middle iv
th' sthreet, an' crosses himsilf. I'll swear
off on annything but Dorsey. He's a good
man, an' I despise him. Here's long life to
him."



ON GOLD-SEEKING.

"WELL, sir," said Mr. Hennessy, " that
Alaska's th' gr-reat place. I thought 'twas
nawthin' but an iceberg with a few seals
roostin' on it, an' wan or two hundherd Ohio
politicians that can't be killed on account" iv
th' threaty iv Pawrs. But here they tell me
'tis fairly smothered in goold. A man stubs
his toe on th' ground, an lifts th' top off iv a
goold mine. Ye go to bed at night, an' wake
up with goold fillin' in ye'er teeth."
" Yes," said Mr. Dooley, "Clancy's son
was in here this mornin', an' he says a frind
iv his wint to sleep out in th' open wan
night, an' whin he got up his pants assayed
four ounces iv goold to th' pound, an' his
whiskers panned out as much as thirty dollars net."
" If I was a young man an' not tied down
here," said Mr. Hennessy, " I'd go there: I
wud so."
cc I wud not," said Mr. Dooley. " Whin
I was a young man in th' ol' counthry, we



ON   GOLD-SEEKING            IO1
heerd th' same story about all America.
We used to set be th' tur-rf fire o' nights,
kickin' our bare legs on th' flure an' wishin'
we was in New York, where all ye had to do
was to hold ye'er hat an' th' goold guineas'd
dhrop into it. An' whin I got to be a man,
I come over here with a ham and a bag iv
oatmeal, as sure that I'd return in a year with
money enough to dhrive me own ca-ar as I
was that me name was Martin Dooley. An'
that was a cinch.
" But, faith, whin I'd been here a week, I
seen  that there was nawthin' but mud
undher th' pavement,- I lamed that be
means iv a pick-axe at tin shillin's th' day,an' that, though there was plenty iv goold,
thim that had it were froze to it; an' I come
west, still lookin' f'r mines. Th' on'y mine
I sthruck at Pittsburgh was a hole f'r sewer
pipe. I made it. Siven shillin's th' day.
Smaller thin New York, but th' livin' was
cheaper, with Mon'gahela rye at five a throw,
put ye'er hand around th' glass.
"I was still dreamin' goold, an' I wint



102         MR. DOOLEY
down to Saint Looey. Th' nearest I come
to a fortune there was findin' a quarther on
th' sthreet as I leaned over th' dashboord iv
a car to whack th' off mule. Whin I got to
Chicago, I looked around f'r the goold mine.
They was Injuns here thin. But they wasn't
anny mines I cud see. They was mud to
be shovelled an' dhrays to be dhruv an' beats
to be walked. I choose th' dhray; f'r I was
niver cut out f'r a copper, an' I'd had me
fill iv excavatin'. An' I dhruv th' dhray
till I wint into business.
cc Me experyence with goold minin' is it's
always in th' nex' county. If I was to go
to Alaska, they'd tell me iv th' finds in Seeberya. So I think I'll stay here. I'm a
silver man, annyhow; an' I'm. contint if I can
see goold wanst a year, whin some prominent citizen smiles over his newspaper. I'm
thinkin' that ivry man has a goold mine
undher his own dure-step or in his neighbor's
pocket at th' farthest."
cc Well, annyhow," said Mr. Hennessy,
" I'd like to kick up th' sod, an' find a ton
iv goold undher me fut."



ON GOLD-SEEKING             103
* What wud ye do if ye found it?" demanded Mr. Dooley.
"I-- I dinnaw," said Mr. Hennessy,
whose dreaming had not gone this far.
Then, recovering himself, he exclaimed with
great enthusiasm, "I'd throw up me job an'
-an' live like a prince."
" I tell ye what ye'd do," said Mr. Dooley.
"Ye'd come back here an' sthrut up an'
down th' sthreet with ye'er thumbs in ye'er
armpits; an' ye'd dhrink too much, an' ride
in sthreet ca-ars. Thin ye'd buy foldin'
beds an' piannies, an' start a reel estate
office.  Ye'd be fooled a good deal an'
lose a lot iv ye'er money, an' thin ye'd
tighten up. Ye'd be in a cold fear night
an' day that ye'd lose ye'er fortune. Ye'd
wake up in th' middle iv th' night, dhreamin'
that ye was back at th' gas-house with ye'er
money gone. Ye'd be prisidint iv a charitable society. Ye'd have to wear ye'er shoes
in th' house, an' ye'er wife'd have ye around
to rayciptions an dances.' Ye'd move to
Mitchigan Avnoo, an' ye'd hire a coachman



104         MR. DOOLEY
that'd laugh at ye. Ye'er boys'd be joods
an' ashamed iv ye, an' ye'd support ye'er
daughters' husbands. Ye'd rackrint ye'er
tinants an' lie about ye'er taxes.  Ye'd go
back to Ireland on a visit, an' put on airs
with ye'er cousin Mike. Ye'd be a mane,
close-fisted, onscrupulous ol' curmudgeon;
an', whin ye'd die, it'd take half ye'er fortune
f'r rayqueems to put ye r-right. I don't
want ye iver to speak to me whin ye get
rich, Hinnissy."
" I won't," said Mr. Hennessy.



ON BOOKS.

CC IVRY time I pick up me mornin' paper
to see how th' scrap come out at Batthry
D," said Mr. Dooley,", "th' first thing I
r-run acrost is somethin' like this: 'A hot
an' handsome gift f'r Christmas is Lucy
Ann    Patzooni's  "Jims  iv  Englewood
Thought"'; or 'If ye wud delight th'
hear-rt iv yer child, ye'll give him Dr. Harper's monymental histhry iv th' Jewish
thribes fr'm  Moses to Dhryfuss' or' Ivrybody is r-readin' Roodyard Kiplin's c Busy
Pomes f'r Busy People."'     Th' idee iv
givin' books f'r Christmas prisints whin
th' stores are full iv tin hor-rns an' dhrums
an' boxin' gloves an   choo-choo  ca-ars!
People must be crazy."
"They ar-re," said Mr. Hennessy. cc My
house is so full iv books ye cudden't tur-rn
around without stumblin' over thim.    I
found th' life iv an ex-convict, the 'Prisoner iv Zinders,' in me high hat th' other
day, where Mary Ann was hidin' it fr'm her



io6

MR. DOOLEY

sister. Instead iv th' chidher fightin' an'
skylarkin' in th' evenin', they're settin'
around th' table with their noses glued into
books. Th' ol' woman doesn't read, but
she picks up what's goin' on. 'Tis c Honoria, did Lor-rd What's-his-name marry th'
fair Aminta?' or c But that Lady Jane was
a case.' An' so it goes. There's no injymint in th' house, an' they're usin' me cravats f'r bookmarks."
"'Tis all wrong," said Mr. Dooley.
" They're on'y three books in th' wurruld
worth readin',- Shakespeare, th' Bible, an'
Mike Ahearn's histhry iv Chicago. I have
Shakespeare on thrust, Father Kelly r-reads
th' Bible f'r me, an' I didn't buy Mike
Ahearn's histhry because I seen more thin
he cud put into it. Books is th' roon iv
people, specially novels.  Whin I was a
young man, th' parish priest used to preach
again thim; but nobody knowed what he
meant. At that time Willum Joyce had th'
on'y library in th' Sixth Wa-ard. Th' mayor
give him th' bound volumes iv th' council



ONdi BOOKS

107

proceedings, an' they was a very handsome
set. Th' on'y books I seen was th' kind
that has th' life iv th' pope on th' outside
an' a set iv dominos on th' inside. They're
good readin'. Nawthin' cud be better f'r a
man whin he's tired out afther a day's wurruk
thin to go to his library an' take down wan
iv th' gr-reat wurruks iv lithratchoor an'
play a game iv dominos f'r th' dhrinks out
iv it. Anny other kind iv r-readin', barrin'
th' newspapers, which will niver hurt anny
onedycated man, is desthructive iv morals.
" I had it out with Father Kelly th' other
day in this very matther. He was comin'
up fr'm down town with an ar-rmful iv
books f'r prizes at th' school. ' Have ye th'
Key to Heaven there?' says I. c No,' says
he,' th' childher that'll get these books don't
need no key. They go in under th' turnstile,' he says, laughin'. c Have ye th' Lives
iv th' Saints, or the Christyan Dooty, or
th' Story iv Saint Rose iv Lima?' I says.
' I have not,' says he. c I have some good
story books. I'd rather th' kids'd r-read



io8         MR. DOOLEY
Char-les Dickens than anny iv th' tales iv
thim holy men that was burned in ile or et
up be lines,' he says. c It does no good in
these degin'rate days to prove that th' best
that can come to a man f'r behavin' himsilf
is to be cooked in a pot or di-gisted be a
line,' he says. 'Ye're wrong,' says I. ' Beggin' ye'er riv'rince's pardon, ye're wrong,' I
says. 'What ar-re ye goin' to do with thim
young wans? Ye're goin' to make thim
near-sighted an' round-shouldered,' I says.
'Ye're goin' to have thim believe that, if they
behave thimsilves an' lead a virchous life,
they'll marry  rich  an' go  to  Congress.
They'll wake up some day, an' find out that
gettin' money an behavin' ye'ersilf don't always go together,' I says. 'Some iv th'
wickedest men in th' wur-ruld have marrid
rich,' I says. c Ye're goin' to teach thim that
a man doesn't have to use an ax to get along
in th' wur-ruld. Ye're goin' to teach thim
that a la-ad with a curlin' black mustache an'
smokin' a cigareet is always a villyan, whin
he's more often a barber with a lar-rge



ON   BOOKS              109
family. Life, says ye! There's no life in a
book. If ye want to show thim what life
is, tell thim to look around thim. There's
more life on a Saturdah night in th' Ar-rchy
Road thin in all th' books fr'm Shakespeare
to th' rayport iv th' drainage thrustees. No
man,' I says, c iver wrote a book if he had
annything to write about, except Shakespeare
an' Mike Ahearn.      Shakespeare was all
r-right. I niver read anny of his pieces,
but they sound good; an' I know Mike
Ahearn is all r-right.' "
"What did he say?" asked Mr. Hennessy.
" He took it all r-right," said Mr. Dooley.
" He kind o' grinned, an' says he: 'What
ye say is thrue, an' it's not thrue,' he says.
SBooks is f'r thim that can't injye thimsilves in anny other way,' he says. c If ye're
in good health, an' ar-re atin' three squares
a day, an' not ayether sad or very much in
love with ye'er lot, but just lookin' on an'
not carin' a' - he said rush -' not carin' a
rush, ye don't need books,' he says. ' But



1no          MR. DOOLEY
if ye're a down-spirited thing an' want to get
aday an' can't, ye need books. 'Tis betther
to be comfortable at home thin to go to th'
circus, an' 'tis betther to go to th' circus
thin to r-read anny book. But 'tis betther
to r-read a book thin to want to go to th'
circus an' not be able to,' he says. 'Well,'
says I, c whin I was growin' up, half th' congregation heard mass with their prayer books
tur-rned upside down, an' they were as pious
as anny. Th' Apostles' Creed niver was as
con-vincin' to me afther I lamed to r-read
it as it was whin I cudden't read it, but believed it.' "



ON REFORM CANDIDATES.
"THAT frind iv ye'ers, Dugan, is an intilligent man," said Mr. Dooley. "All he
needs is an index an' a few illusthrations to
make him a bicyclopedja iv useless information."
"Well," said Mr. Hennessy, judiciously,
"he ain't no Soc-rates an' he ain't no answers-to-questions colum; but he's a good
man that goes to his jooty, an' as handy with
a pick as some people are with a cocktail
spoon. What's he been doin' again ye?"
"Nawthin'," said Mr. Dooley, "but he
was in here Choosday. 'Did ye vote?'
says I. 'I did,' says he. 'Which wan iv
th' distinguished bunko steerers got ye'er
invalu'ble suffrage?' says I. ' I didn't have
none with me,' says he, 'but I voted f'r
Charter Haitch,' says he. 'I've been with
him in six ilictions,' says he, 'an' he's a
good man,' he says.    'D'ye think ye're
votin' f'r th' best?' says I. CWhy, man
alive,' I says, ' Charter Haitch was assas


112

MR. DOOLEY

sinated three years ago,' I says. ' Was he?'
says Dugan.     'Ah, well, he's lived    that
down be this time. He was a good man,'
he says.
"Ye see, that's what thim    rayform  lads
wint up again.   If I liked rayformers, Hinnissy, an' wanted f'r to see thim   win out
wanst in their lifetime, I'd buy thim each a
suit iv chilled steel, ar-rm thim with raypeatin' rifles, an' take thim east iv State
Sthreet an' south iv Jackson Bullyvard.
At prisint th' opinion that pre-vails in th'
ranks iv th' gloryous ar-rmy iv ray-form is
that there ain't annything worth seein' in
this lar-rge an' commodyous desert but
th' pest-house an' the bridewell. Me frind
Willum J. O'Brien is no rayformer. But
Willum J. undherstands that there's a few
hundherds iv thousands iv people livin' in
a part iv th' town that looks like nawthin' but smoke fr'm th' roof iv th' Onion
League Club that have on'y two pleasures
in life, to wur-ruk an' to vote, both iv
which they do at th' uniform rate iv wan



ON REFORM CANDIDATES I13
dollar an' a half a day. That's why Willum
J. O'Brien is now a sinitor an' will be an
aldherman afther next Thursdah, an' it's
why other people are sinding him flowers.
cc This is th' way a rayform candydate is
ilicted. Th' boys down town has heerd that
things ain't goin' r-right somehow. Franchises is bein' handed out to none iv thim;
an' wanst in a while a mimber iv th' club,
comin' home a little late an' thryin' to riconcile a pair iv r-round feet with an embroidered sidewalk, meets a sthrong ar-rm boy
that pushes in his face an' takes away all his
marbles. It begins to be talked that th'
time has come f'r good citizens f'r to brace
up an' do somethini', an' they agree to nomynate a candydate f'r aldherman. 'Who'll
we put up?' says they. c How's Clarence
Doolittle?' says wan. C He's laid up with
a coupon thumb, an' can't r-run.' c An'
how about Arthur Doheny? ' 'c I swore an
oath whin I came out iv colledge I'd niver
vote f'r a man that wore a made tie.' 'Well,
thin, let's thry Willie Boye.' ' Good,' says



114

MR. DOOLEY

th' comity.   'He's jus' th' man f'r our
money.' An' Willie Boye, after thinkin' it
over, goes to his tailor an' ordhers three
dozen pairs iv pants, an' decides f'r to be
th' sthandard-bearer iv th' people. Musin'
over his fried eyesthers an' asparagus an' his
champagne, he bets a polo pony again a
box of golf-balls he'll be ilicted unanimous;
an' all th' good citizens make a vow f'r to
set th' alar-rm clock f'r half-past three on
th' afthernoon iv iliction day, so's to be up
in time to vote f'r th' riprisintitive iv pure
gover'mint.
"'Tis some time befure they comprehindl
that there ar-re other candydates in th' field.
But th' other candydates know      it.  Th'
sthrongest iv thim - his name is Flannigan,
an' he's a re-tail dealer in wines an' liquors,
an' he lives over his establishment. Flannigan was nomynated enthusyastically at a
prim'ry held in his bar-rn; an' befure Willie
Boye had picked out pants that wud match
th' color iv th' Austhreelyan ballot this
here Flannigan had put a man on th' day



ON REFORM CANDIDATES i15
watch, tol' him to speak gently to anny raygistered voter that wint to sleep behind th'
sthove, an' was out that night visitin' his
frinds. Who was it judged th' cake walk?
Flannigan.   Who was it carrid th' pall?
Flannigan. Who was it sthud up at th'
christening?  Flannigan.  Whose    ca-ards
did th' grievin' widow, th' blushin' bridegroom, or th' happy father find in th' hack?
Flannigan's.  Ye bet ye'er life.   Ye see
Flannigan wasn't out f'r th' good iv th'
community. Flannigan was out f'r Flannigan an' th' stuff.
" Well, iliction day come around; an' all
th' imminent frinds iv good gover'mint had
special wires sthrung into th' club, an' waited
f'r th' returns. Th' first precin't showed 28
votes f'r Willie Boye to 14 f'r Flannigan.
CThat's my precin't,' says Willie. 'I wondher who voted thim fourteen?' c Coachmen,' says Clarence Doolittle. ' There are
thirty-five precin'ts in this ward,' says th'
leader iv th' rayform ilimint. c At this rate,
I'm sure iv 440 meejority. Gossoon,' he



n6

MR. DOOLEY

says, 'put a keg iv sherry wine on th' ice,'
he says.  ' Well,' he says, 'at last th' community is relieved fr'm misrule,' he says.
C To-morrah I will start in arrangin' amindmints to th' tariff schedool an' th' ar-bitration threety,' he says. ' We must be up an'
doin',' he says.  ' Hol' on there,' says wan
iv th' comity. 'There must be some mistake in this fr'm th' sixth precin't,' he says.
' Where's the sixth precin't?' says Clarence.
' Over be th' dumps,' says Willie. ' I told
me futman to see to that. He lives at th'
cor-ner iv Desplaines an Bloo Island Av'noo
on Goose's Island,' he says. 'What does
it show?'   ' Flannigan, three hundherd an'
eighty-five; Hansen, forty-eight; Schwartz,
twinty; O'Malley, sivinteen; Casey, ten;
O'Day, eight; Larsen, five; O'Rourke,
three; Mulcahy, two; Schmitt, two; Moloney, two; Riordon, two; O'Malley, two;
Willie Boye, wan.' ' Gintlemin,' says Willie
Boye, arisin' with a stern look in his eyes,
Sth' rascal has bethrayed me. Waither, take
th' sherry wine off th' ice.     They'se no



ON REFORM CANDIDATES 117
hope f'r sound financial legislation this year.
I'm goin' home.'
"An', as he goes down th' sthreet, he hears
a band play an' sees a procission headed be
a calceem light; an', in a carredge, with his
plug hat in his hand an' his di'mond makin'
th' calceem look like a piece iv punk in a
smoke-house, is Flannigan, payin' his first
visit this side iv th' thracks."



ON PATERNAL DUTY.

" I'M havin' a time iv it with Terence,"
said Mr. Hennessy, despondently.
"What's th' la-ad been doin'?" asked
Mr. Dooley.
" It ain't so much what he's doin'," Mr.
Hennessy explained, "as what he ain't
doin.' He ain't stayin' home iv nights, an'
he ain't wurrukin'; but he does be out on
th' corner with th' Cromleys an' th' rest,
dancin' jig steps an' whistlin' th' ' Rogue's
March' whin a polisman goes by. Sure, I
can do nawthin' with him, f'r he's that kind
an' good at home that he'd melt th' heart iv
a man iv stone. But it's gray me life is,
thinkin' iv what's to become iv him whin
he gets to be a man grown. Ye're lucky,
Martin, that ye're childless."
cc Sure, I cudden't be anny other way, an'
hold me good name," said Mr. Dooley.
"An', whin I look about me sometimes, it's
glad I am. They'se been times, perhaps -
But lave that go. Is there somethin' in th'



ON PATERNAL DUTY

119

air or is it in oursilves that makes th' childher nowadays turn out to curse th' lives iv
thim that give thim life? It may be in th'
thrainin'. Whin I was a kid, they were
brought up to love, honor, an' respect th'
ol' folks, that their days might be long in
th' land. Amen. If they didn't, th' best
they cud do was to say nawthin' about it.
'Twas th' back iv th' hand an' th' sowl iv
th' fut to th' la-ad that put his spoon first
into th' stirabout. Between th' whalin's we
got at school h'isted on th' back iv th' big
boy that was bein' thrainned to be a Christyan
brother an' th' thumpin's we got at home,
we was kept sore an' sthraight fr'm wan
year's end to another. 'Twas no mild doses
they give us, ayether. I mind wanst, whin
I was near as big as I am now, I handed
back some onkind re-emarks to me poor
father that's dead. May he rest in peace,
per Dominum! He must iv been a small
man, an' bent with wurruk an' worry. But
did he take me jaw? He did not. He
hauled off, an' give me a r-right hook where



120

MR. DOOLEY

th' bad wurruds come fr'm. I put up a
pretty fight, f'r me years; but th' man
doesn't live that can lick his own father.
He rowled me acrost an oat-field, an' I give
up. I didn't love him anny too well f'r
that lickin', but I respected him; an', if
he'd come into this place to-night,-- an' he'd
be near a hundherd: he was born in th' year
'98, an' pikes was hid in his cradle,-if he
come in here to-night an' pulled me ear, I'd
fear to go again him. I wud so.
S'Tis th' other way about now. Did ye
iver know a man be th' name iv Ahearn? Ye
did not? Well, maybe he was befure yer
time. He was a cobbler be thrade; but he
picked up money be livin' off iv leather
findings an' wooden pegs, an' bought pieces
iv th' prairie, an' starved an' bought more,
an' starved an' starved till his heart was
shrivelled up like a washerwoman's hand.
But he made money. An' th' more he made,
th' more he wanted, an', wantin' nawthin'
more, it come to him fr'm the divvle, who
kept th' curse f'r his own time, This man



ON PATERNAL DUTY

121

Ahearn, whin he had acres an' acres on
Halsted Sthreet, an' tinants be th' scoor that
prayed at nights f'r him that he might live
long an' taste sorrow, he marrid a girl.
Her name was Ryan, a little, scared, foolish
woman; an' she died whin a boy was bor-rn.
Ahearn give her a solemn rayqueem high
mass an' a monument at Calv'ry that ye can
see fr'm th' fun'ral thrain. An' he come
fr'm th' fun'ral with th' first smile on his face
that anny man iver see there, an' th' baby in
his ar-rms.
" I'll not say Ahearn was a changed man.
Th' love iv money was knitted into his
heart; an', afther th' la-ad come, th' way he
ground th' people that lived in his house
was death an' destruction. c I must provide
f'r me own,' he said. But thim that was
kind to th' kid cud break th' crust, an' all
th' r-rough, hard-wurrkin' tenants paid f'r
th' favors he give to th' ol' frauds an' beguilin' women that petted Dan'l O'Connell
Ahearn. Nawthin' was too good f'r th' kid.
He had nurses an' servants to wait on him,



122         MR. DOOLEY
He had clothes that'd stock this ba-ar f'r a
year. Whin he was old enough, he was sint
to Saint Ignatyous. An' th' ol' man'd take
him walkin' on a Sundah, an' pint out th'
rows an' rows iv houses, with th' childher
in front gazin' in awe at th' great man an'
their fathers glowerin' fr'm the windows, an'
say, C Thim will all be yours whin ye grow
up, Dan'l O'Connell, avick.'
" Well, it didn't take an eye iv a witch to
see that Dan'l O'Connell was a bor-rn idjet.
They was no rale harm in th' poor la-ad,
on'y he was lazy an' foolish an' sort iv tired
like. To make a long story short, Hinnissy, his father thried ivrything f'r him, an'
got nawthin.' He didn't dhrink much, he
cared little f'r women, he liked to play
ca-ards, but  not f'r money.     He did
nawthin' that was bad; an' yet he was no
good at all, at all,-just a slow, tired, aisygoin', shamblin' la-ad, - th' sort that'd
wrench th' heart iv a father like Ahearn.
I dinnaw what he did fin'lly, but wan night
he come into my place an' said he'd been
turned out be his father an' wanted a place



ON PARENTAL DUTY

123

f'r to sleep. ' Ye'll sleep at home,' says I.
'Ye'er father sh'd take shame to himsilf,him a rich man.' An' I put on me coat, an'
wint over to Ahearn's. I was a power in
th' wa-ard in thim days, an' feared no man
alive. Th' ol' la-ad met us at th' dure.
Whin I started to speak, he blazed up.
'Misther Dooley,' says he, 'my sorrows are
me own. I'll keep thim here. As f'r ye,'
he says, an' tur-rned like a tiger on th' boy
an' sthruck him with his ol' leathery hand.
Th' boy stood f'r a minnyit, an' thin walked
out, me with him. I niver see him since.
We left Ahearn standin' there, as we used to
say iv th' fox in th' ol' counthry, cornered
between th' river an' th' wall."
c Ye're lucky to be alone," said Mr. Hennessy as he left.
" I think so," said Mr. Dooley. But
there was no content upon his face as he
watched a lounging oaf of a boy catch up
with Mr. Hennessy, exchange a curtly affectionate greeting, and walk over to where
Mrs. Hennessy could be seen reading the
" Key of Heaven " beside the parlor stove.



ON CRIMINALS.

C" LORD bless my sowl," said Mr. Dooley,
"childher is a gr-reat risponsibility,-agr-reat
risponsibility. Whin I think iv it, I praise
th' saints I niver was married, though I had
opporchunities enough whin I was a young
man; an' even now I have to wear me hat
low whin I go down be Cologne Sthreet on
account iv th' Widow Grogan. Jawn, that
woman'll take me dead or alive. I wake up
in a col' chill in th' middle iv th' night,
dhreamin' iv her havin' me in her clutches.
C" But that's not here or there, avick. I
was r-readin' in th' pa-apers iv a lad be th'
name iv Scanlan bein' sint down th' short
r-road f'r near a lifetime; an' I minded th'
first time I iver see him,- a bit iv a curlyhaired boy that played tag around me place,
an' 'd sing c Blest Saint Joseph' with a smile
on his face like an angel's. Who'll tell what
makes wan man a thief an' another man a
saint?  I dinnaw.   This here boy's father
wurrked fr'm morn till night in th' mills,



ON CRIMINALS

125

was at early mass Sundah mornin' befure
th' alkalis lit th' candles, an' niver knowed
a month whin he failed his jooty. An' his
mother was a sweet-faced     little woman,
though fr'm th' County Kerry, that nursed
th' sick an' waked th' dead, an' niver had a
hard thought in her simple mind f'r anny
iv Gawd's creatures. Poor sowl, she's dead
now. May she rest in peace!
"He didn't git th' shtreak fr'm his father
or fr'm his mother. His brothers an' sisters
was as fine a lot as iver lived. But this la-ad
Petey Scanlan growed up fr'm bein' a curlyhaired angel f'r to be th' toughest villyun in
th' r-road. What was it at all, at all? Sometimes I think they'se poison in th' life iv a
big city. Th' flowers won't grow here no
more thin they wud in a tannery, an' th'
bur-rds have no song; an' th' childher iv
dacint men an' women come up hard in th'
mouth an' with their hands raised again their
kind.
"Th' la-ad was th' scoorge iv th' polis.
He was as quick as a cat an' as fierce as a



126          MR. DOOLEY
tiger, an' I well raymimber him havin' laid
out big Kelly that used to thravel this post,
-' Whistlin'' Kelly that kep' us awake with
imitations iv a mockin' bur-rd,- I well raymimber him scuttlin' up th' alley with a score
iv polismin laborin' afther him, thryin' f'r a
shot at him as he wint around th' bar-rns or
undher th' thrucks. He slep' in th' coalsheds afther that until th' poor ol' man cud
square it with th' loot. But, whin he come
out, ye cud see how his face had hardened an'
his ways changed. He was as silent as an
animal, with a sideways manner that watched
ivrything. Right here in this place I seen
him stand f'r a quarther iv an' hour, not
seemin' to hear a dhrunk man abusin' him,
an' thin lep out like a snake. We had to
pry him loose.
" Th' ol' folks done th' best they cud with
him. They hauled him out iv station an' jail
an' bridewell. Wanst in a long while they'd
dhrag him off to church with his head down:
that was always afther he'd been sloughed
up f'r wan thing or another. Between times



ON CRIMINALS

127

th' polis give him his own side iv th' sthreet,
an' on'y took him whin his back was tur-rned.
Thin he'd go in the wagon with a mountain
iv thim on top iv him, swayin' an' swearin'
an' sthrikin' each other in their hurry to put
him to sleep with their clubs.
cc I mind well th' time he was first took
to be settled f'r good. I heerd a noise in th'
ya-ard, an' thin he come through th' place
with his face dead gray an' his lips just a
turn grayer.  Where ar-re ye goin', Petey?'
says I.  I was jus' takin' a short cut home,'
he says. In three minyits th' r-road was full
iv polismin. They'd been a robbery down
in Halsted Sthreet. A man that had a grocery sthore was stuck up, an' whin he fought
was clubbed near to death; an' they'd r-run
Scanlan through th' alleys to his father's
house. That was as far as they'd go. They
was enough iv thim to've kicked down th'
little cottage with their heavy boots, but
they knew he was standin' behind th' dure
with th' big gun in his hand; an', though
they was manny a good lad there, they was
none that cared f'r that short odds.



128          MR. DOOLEY
" They talked an' palavered outside, an'
telephoned th' chief iv polls, an' more pathrol wagons come up. Some was f'r settin'
fire to th' buildin', but no wan moved ahead.
Thin th' fr-ront dure opened, an' who shud
come out but th' little mother. She was thin
an' pale, an' she had her apron in her hands,
pluckin' at it. c Gintlemin,' she says, c what
is it ye want iv me?' she says. ' Liftinant
Cassidy,' she says, ''tis sthrange f'r ye that
I've knowed so long to make scandal iv me
befure me neighbors,' she says. C Mrs. Scanlan,' says he, 'we want th' boy. I'm sorry,
ma'am, but he's mixed up in a bad scrape,
an' we must have him,' he says. She made
a curtsy to thim, an' wint indures. 'Twas
less than a minyit befure she come out,
clingin' to th' la-ad's ar-rm. c He'll go,' she
says. c Thanks be, though he's wild, they'se
no crime on his head. Is there, dear?'
'No,' says he, like th' game kid he is. Wan
iv th' polismin stharted to take hold iv him,
but th' la-ad pushed him back; an' he wint
to th' wagon on his mother's ar-rm."



ON CRIMINALS             I29
"And was he really innocent?" Mr.
McKenna asked.
" No," said Mr. Dooley. "cc But she
niver knowed it. Th' ol' man come home
an' found her: she was settin' in a big chair
with her apron in her hands an th' picture
iv th' la-ad in her lap."



ON A PLOT.

" WELL," said Mr. Dooley, " th' European situation is becomin' a little gay."
'" It 'tis so," said Mr. Hennessy. " If I
was conthrollin' anny iv the gr-reat powers,
I'd go down to th' Phosphorus an' take th'
sultan be th' back iv th' neck an' give him
wan, two, three. 'Tis a shame f'r him to
be desthroyin' white people without anny
man layin' hands on him. Th' man's no
frind iv mine. He ought to be impeached
an' thrun out."
" Divvle take th' sultan," said Mr.
Dooley.   "It's little I care f'r him  or
th' likes iv him  or th' Ar-menyans or th'
Phosphorus.   I was runnin' over in me
mind about th' poor lads they have sloughed
up beyant f'r attimptin' to blow up Queen
Victorya an' th cza-ar iv Rooshia. Glory
be, but they'se nawthin' in the wide wurruld
as aisy to undherstand as a rivoluchonary
plot be our own people. You'll see a lad iv
th' right sort that'd niver open his head



ON   A PLOT              131
fr'm wan end iv th' year to th' other; but,
whin he's picked out to go on a mission to
London, he niver laves off talkin' till they
put him   aboord  th' steamer. Here was
Tynan. They say he had a hand in sindin'
Lord Cavendish down th' toboggan, though
I'd not thrust his own tellin' as far as th'
len'th iv me ar-rm.   Now he figured out
that th' thrue way to free Ireland was to go
over an' blow th' windows in Winzer Palace,
an' incidentally to hist th' queen an' th'
Rooshian cza-ar without th' aid iv th' elevator. What this here Tynan had again th'
Rooshian cza-ar I niver heerd. But 'twas
something awful, ye may be sure.
cc Well, th' first thing th' la-ads done was
to go to Madison Square Garden an' hold
a secret meetin', in which thim that was to
hand th' package to th' queen and thim that
was to toss a piece iv gas pipe to his cza-ars
was told off. Thin a comity was sint around
to th' newspaper offices to tell thim th' expedition was about to start. Th' conspirators, heavily disgeesed, was attinded to th'



132         MR. DOOLEY
boat be a long    procission.  First come
Tynan ridin' on a wagon-load iv nithroglycerine; thin th' other conspirators, with
gas-pipe bombs an' picks an' chuvvels f'r
tunnellin' undher Winzer Castle; thin
th' Ah-o-haitches; thin th' raypoorthers;
thin a brigade iv Scotland Ya-ard spies in
th' ga-arb iv polismin. An' so off they
wint on their secret mission, with th' band
playin' 'Th' Wearin' iv th' Green,' an
Tynan standin' on th' quarther deck, smilin'
an' bowin' an' wavin' a bag iv jint powdher
over his head.
cc No sooner had th' conspirators landed
thin th' British gover'mint begun to grow
suspicious iv thim. Tynan was shadowed
be detictives in citizens' clothes; an', whin
he was seen out in his backyard practisin'
blowin' up a bar'l that he'd dhressed in a
shawl an' a little lace cap, th' suspicions
growed.   Ivrywhere that Tynan wint he
was purshooed be th' minions iv tyranny.
Whin he visited th' house nex' dure to th'
queen's, an' unloaded a dhray full iv ex


ON A PLOT               133
plosives an' chuvvels, the fact was rayported
to th' polls, who become exthremely vigilant. Th' detictives followed him to Scotland Yard, where he wint to inform th'
captain iv th' conspiracy, an' overheard
much damming ividence iv th' plot until
they become more an' more suspicious that
something was on, although what was th'
intintions iv th' conspirators it was hard to
make out fr'm their peculiar actions. Whin
Tynan gathered his followers in Hyde Park,
an' notified thim iv the positions they was
to take and    disthributed  th' dinnymite
among thim, th' detictives become decidedly suspicious. Their suspicions was again
aroused whin Tynan asked permission iv th'
common council to build a bay window up
close to th' queen's bedroom. But th' time
to act had not come, an' they continted thimselves with thrackin' him through th' sthreets
an' takin' notes iv such suspicious remarks
as Anny wan that wants mementoes iv th'
queen has on'y to be around this neighborhood nex' week with a shovel an' a basket,'



i34

MR. DOOLEY

an' Onless ye want ye'er clothes to be spoiled
be th' czar, ye'd best carry umbrellas.' On
th' followin' day Tynan took th' step that
was needed f'r to con-vince th' gover'mint
that he had designs on the monarchs. He
wint to France. It's always been obsarved
that, whin a dinnymiter had to blow up
annything in London, he laves th' counthry.
Th' polis, now thoroughly aroused, acted
with commindable promptness. They arristed Tynan in Booloon f'r th' murdher iv
Cavendish.
" Thus," said Mr. Dooley, sadly, " thus
is th' vengeance f'r which our beloved
counthry has awaited so long delayed be th'
hand iv onscrupulious tyranny. Sthrive as
our heroes may, no secrecy is secure against
th' corruption iv British goold. Oh, Ireland, is this to be thy fate forever? Ar-re
ye niver to escape th' vigilance iv th' polis,
thim cold-eyed sleuths that seem to read th'
very thoughts iv ye'er pathriot sons? "
" There must have been a spy in th'
ranks," said Mr. Hennessy.



ON A PLOT              135
c" Sure thing," said Mr. Dooley, winking
at Mr. McKenna. " Sure thing, Hinnissy.
Ayether that or th' accomplished detictives
at Scotland Yards keep a close watch iv the
newspapers. Or it may be - who knows? -
that Tynan was indiscreet. He may have
dhropped a hint of his intintions."



ON THE NEW WOMAN.

C" MOLLY DONAHUE have up an' become
a new woman!
" It's been a good thing f'r ol' man Donahue, though, Jawn. He shtud ivrything
that mortal man cud stand. He seen her
appearin' in th' road wearin' clothes that
no lady shud wear an' ridin' a bicycle; he
was humiliated whin she demanded to vote;
he put his pride under his ar-rm an'
ma-arched out iv th' house whin she committed assault-an'-batthry on th' piannah.
But he's got to th' end iv th' rope now.
He was in here las' night, how-come-ye-so,
with his hat cocked over his eye an' a look
iv risolution on his face; an' whin he left me,
he says, says he, c Dooley,' he says, C Ill conquir, or I'll die,' he says.
cc It's been comin f'r months, but it on'y
bust on Donahue las' week. He'd come
home at night tired out, an' afther supper he
was pullin' off his boots, whin Mollie an' th'
mother begun talkin' about th' rights iv



ON THE NEW WOMAN 137
females. c 'Tis th' era iv th' new woman,'
says Mollie. 'Ye're right,' says th' mother.
' What d'ye mean be the new woman?' says
Donahue, holdin' his boot in his hand. c Th'
new woman,' says Mollie, 'll be free fr'm
th' opprision iv man,' she says.   'She'll
wurruk out her own way, without help or
hinderance,' she says.  c She'll wear what
clothes she wants,' she says,' an' she'll be no
man's slave,' she says. 'They'll be no such
thing as givin' a girl in marredge to a clown
an' makin' her dipindant on his whims,' she
says. ' Th' women'll earn their own livin','
she says; can' mebbe,' she says, ' th' men'll
stay at home an' dredge in th' house wurruk,'
she says. ' A-ho,' says Donahue. ' An' that's
th' new woman, is it?' he says. An' he said
no more that night.
"But th' nex' mornin' Mrs. Donahue an'
Mollie come to his dure. c Get up,' says
Mrs. Donahue, ' an' bring in some coal,' she
says. c Ye drowsy man, ye'll be late f'r ye'er
wurruk.' 'Divvle th' bit iv coal I'll fetch,'
says Donahue. ' Go away an' lave me alone,'



138         MR. DOOLEY
he says. 'Ce're inthruptin' me dreams.'
SWhat ails ye, man alive?' says Mrs. Donahue. ' Get up.' ' Go away,' says Donahue,
'an lave me slumber,' he says. C Th' idee
iv a couple iv big strong women like you
makin' me wurruk f'r ye,' he says. ' Mollie
'11 bring in th' coal,' he says. C An' as f'r
you, Honoria, ye'd best see what there is in
th' cupboord an' put it in ye'er dinner-pail,'
he says. ' I heerd th' first whistle blow a
minyit ago,' he says; 'an' there's a pile iv
slag at th' mills that has to be wheeled off
befure th' sup'rintindint comes around,' he
says. 'Ye know ye can't afford to lose ye'er
job with me in this dilicate condition,' he
says.  'I'm going to sleep now,' he says.
cAn', Mollie, do ye bring me in a cup iv
cocoa an' a pooched igg at tin,' he says. ' I
ixpect me music-teacher about that time.
We have to take a wallop out iv Wagner
an' Bootoven befure noon.'     CTh' Lord
save us fr'm harm,' says Mrs. Donahue.
C Th' man's clean crazy.'  Divvle's th' bit,'
says Donahue, wavin' his red flannel undhershirt in th' air.  I'm the new man,' he says.



ON THE NEW WOMAN 139
"Well, sir, Donahue said it flured thim
complete. They didn't know what to say.
Mollie was game, an' she fetched in th' coal;
but Mrs. Donahue got nervous as eight
o'clock come around. 'Ye're not goin' to
stay in bed all day an' lose ye'er job,' she
says. 'Th' 'ell with me job,' says Donahue.
SI'm not th' man to take wurruk whin
they'se industhrees women with nawthin' to
do,' he says. ' Show me th' pa-apers,' he
says. 'I want to see where I can get an
eighty-cint bonnet f'r two and a half.' He's
that stubborn he'd've stayed in bed all day,
but th' good woman weakened. c Come,'
she says, 'don't be foolish,' she says. ' Ye
wudden't have th' ol' woman wurrukin' in
th' mills,' she says.  'Twas all a joke,' she
says. 'Oh-ho, th' ol' woman!' he says.
' Th' ol' woman! Well, that's a horse iv
another color,' he says. 'An' I don't mind
tellin' ye th' mills is closed down to-day,
Honoria.' So he dhressed himsilf an' wint
out; an' says he to Mollie, he says: ' Miss
Newwoman,' says he, 'ye may find wurruk



140         MR. DOOLEY
enough around th' house,' he says. cAn',
if ye have time, ye might paint th' stoop,'
he says. c Th' ol' man is goin' to take th'
ol' woman down be Halsted Sthreet' an'
blow himsilf f'r a new shawl f'r her.'
" An' he's been that proud iv th' victhry
that he's been a reg'lar customer f'r a
week."



ON EXPERT TESTIMONY.

" ANNYTHING new?" said Mr. Hennessy,
who had been waiting patiently for Mr.
Dooley to put down his newspaper.
"I've been r-readin' th' tistimony iv th'
Lootgert case," said Mr. Dooley.
"What d'ye think iv it? "
" I think so," said Mr. Dooley.
"Think what?"
"How do I know? " said Mr. Dooley.
" How do I know what I think? I'm no
combi-nation iv chemist, doctor, osteologist,
polisman, an' sausage-maker, that I can give
ye an opinion right off th' bat. A man
needs to be all iv thim things to detarmine
annything about a murdher trile in these
days.  This shows how     intilligent our
methods is, as Hogan says. A large German man is charged with puttin' his wife
away into a breakfas'-dish, an' he says he
didn't do it. Th' on'y question, thin, is,
Did or did not Alphonse Lootgert stick
Mrs. L. into a vat, an' rayjooce her to a
quick lunch? Am I right?"



142          MR. DOOLEY
CC Ye ar-re," said Mr. Hennessy.
"That's simple enough. What th' coort
ought to've done was to call him up, an' say:
" Lootgert, where's ye'er good woman?' If
Lootgert cudden't tell, he ought to be hanged
on gin'ral principles; f'r a man must keep
his wife around th' house, an' whin she isn't
there, it shows he's a poor provider. But, if
Lootgert says, ' I don't know where me wife
is,' the coort shud say: C Go out, an' find
her. If ye can't projooce her in a week, I'll
fix ye.' An' let that be th' end iv it.
'C But what do they do?  They get Lootgert into coort an' stand him up befure a
gang iv young rayporthers an' th' likes iv
thim to make pitchers iv him. Thin they
summon a jury composed iv poor tired,
sleepy expressmen an' tailors an' clerks.
Thin they call in a profissor from a colledge.
c Profissor,' says th' lawyer f'r the State, ' I
put it to ye if a wooden vat three hundherd
an' sixty feet long, twenty-eight feet deep, an'
sivinty-five feet wide, an' if three hundherd
pounds iv caustic soda boiled, an' if the leg



ON EXPERT TESTIMONY 143
iv a guinea pig, an' ye said yestherdah about
bi-carbonate iv soda, an' if it washes up an'
washes over, an' th' slimy, slippery stuff, an'
if a false tooth or a lock iv hair or a jawbone
or a goluf ball across th' cellar eleven feet nine
inches - that is, two inches this way an' five
gallons that?'    c I agree with ye intirely,'
says th' profissor. ' I made lab'ratory experiments in an' ir'n basin, with bichloride
iv gool, which I will call soup-stock, an' coal
tar, which I will call ir'n filings. I mixed th'
two over a hot fire, an' left in a cool place to
harden. I thin packed it in ice, which I will
call glue, an' rock-salt, which I will call fried
eggs, an' obtained a dark, queer solution that
is a cure f'r freckles, which I will call antimony or doughnuts or annything I blamed
please.'
" ' But,' says th' lawyer f'r th' State,
' measurin' th' vat with gas,- an' I lave it
to ye whether this is not th' on'y fair test,an' supposin' that two feet acrost is akel to
tin feet sideways, an' supposin' that a thick
green an' hard substance, an' I daresay it



i44

MR. DOOLEY

wud; an' supposin' you may, takin' into
account th' measuremints,- twelve be eight,
- th' vat bein' wound with twine six inches
fr'm th' handle an' a rub iv th' green, thin
ar-re not human teeth often found in counthry sausage?' c In th' winter,' says th'
profissor. ' But th' sisymoid bone is sometimes seen in th' fiat, sometimes worn as a
watch-charm. I took two sisymoid bones,
which I will call poker dice, an' shdok thim
together in a cylinder, which I will call
Fido, poored in a can iv milk, which I will
call gum arabic, took two pounds iv roughon-rats, which I rayfuse to call; but th' raysult is th' same.' Question be th' coort:
' Different?' Answer: 'Yis.' Th' coort:
'Th' same.' Be Misther McEwen: 'Whose
bones?' Answer: 'Yis.'    Be Misther Vincent: 'Will ye go to th' divvle?' Answer:
' It dissolves th' hair.'
" Now what I want to know is where th'
jury gets off. What has that collection iv
pure-minded pathrites to larn fr'm this here
polite discussion, where no wan is so crool



ON EXPERT TESTIMONY            145
as to ask what anny wan else means? Thank
th' Lord, whin th' case is all over, the jury'll
pitch th' tistimony out iv th' window, an'
consider three questions: c Did Lootgert
look as though he'd kill his wife? Did his
wife look as though she ought to be kilt?
Isn't it time we wint to supper?' An',
howiver they answer, they'll be right, an'
it'll make little diff'rence wan way or th'
other. Th' German vote is too large an'
ignorant, annyhow."



ON THE POPULARITY OF
FIREMEN.
c I KNOWED a man be th' name iv Clancy
wanst, Jawn.   He was fr'm th' County
May-o, but a good man f'r all that; an',
whin he'd growed to be a big, sthrappin'
fellow, he wint on to th' fire departmint.
They'se an Irishman 'r two on th' fire departmint an' in th' army, too, Jawn, though
ye'd think be hearin' some talk they was all
runnin' prim'ries an' thryin' to be cinthral
comitymen. So ye wud. Ye niver hear iv
thim on'y whin they die; an' thin, murther,
what funerals they have!
" Well, this Clancy wint on th' fire departmint, an' they give him a place in thruck
twinty-three. All th' r-road was proud iv
him, an' faith he was proud iv himsilf. He
r-rode free on th' sthreet ca-ars, an' was th'
champeen hand-ball player f'r miles around.
Ye shud see him goin' down th' sthreet, with
his blue shirt an' his blue coat with th' buttons on it, an' his cap on his ear. But ne'er



ON FIREMEN

147

a cap or coat'd he wear whin they was a fire.
He might be shiv'rin' be th' stove in th'
ingine house with a buffalo robe over his
head; but, whin th' gong sthruck, 'twas off
with coat an' cap an' buffalo robe, an' out
come me brave Clancy, bare-headed an' bare
hand, dhrivin' with wan line an' spillin' th'
hose cart on wan wheel at ivry jump iv th'
horse. Did anny wan iver see a fireman
with his coat on or a polisman with his off?
Why, wanst, whin Clancy was standin' up
f'r Grogan's eighth, his son come runnin' in
to tell him they was a fire in Vogel's packin'
house. He dhropped th' kid at Father
Kelly's feet, an' whipped off his long coat
an' wint tearin' f'r th' dure, kickin' over th'
poorbox an' buttin' ol' Mis' O'Neill that'd
come in to say th' stations. 'Twas lucky
'twas wan iv th' Grogans. They're a fine
family f'r falls. Jawn Grogan was wurrukin'
on th' top iv Metzri an' O'Connell's brewery wanst, with a man be th' name iv Dorsey. He slipped an' fell wan hundherd feet.
Whin they come to see if he was dead, he



148

MR. DOOLEY

got up, an' says he: ' Lave me at him.' 'At
who?' says they. ' He's deliryous,' they says.
'At Dorsey,' says Grogan.      He thripped
me.' So it didn't hurt Grogan's eighth to
fall four 'r five feet.
"Well, Clancy wint to fires an' fires.
Whin th' big organ facthry burnt, he carrid th' hose up to th' fourth story an' was
squirtin' whin th' walls fell. They dug him
out with pick an' shovel, an' he come up
fr'm th' brick an' boards an' saluted th'
chief. 'Clancy,' says th' chief, 'ye betther
go over an' get a dhrink.' He did so, Jawn.
I heerd it. An' Clancy was that proud!
"Whin th' Hogan flats on Halsted Sthreet
took fire, they got all th' people out but wan;
an' she was a woman asleep on th' fourth
flure. ' Who'll go up?' says Bill Musham.
C Sure, sir,' says Clancy, ' I'll go'; an' up he
wint. His captain was a man be th' name
iv O'Connell, fr'm th' County Kerry; an'
he had his fut on th' ladder whin Clancy
started. Well, th' good man wint into th'
smoke, with his wife faintin' down below.



ON   FIREMEN             149
c He'll be kilt,' says his brother. c Ye don't
know him,' says Bill Musham. An' sure
enough, whin ivry wan'd give him up, out
comes me brave Clancy, as black as a Turk,
with th' girl in his arms. Th' others wini
up like monkeys, but he shtud wavin' thim
off, an' come down th' ladder face forward.
SWhere'd ye larn that?' says Bill Musham.
c I seen a man do it at th' Lyceem whin I
was a kid,' says Clancy. 'Was it all right?'
'I'll have ye up before th' ol' man,' says Bill
Musham. 'I'll teach ye to come down a
laddher as if ye was in a quadhrille, ye horsestealin', ham-sthringin' May-o man,' he says.
But he didn't. Clancy wint over to see
his wife. c 0 Mike,' says she, "twas fine,'
she says. ' But why d'ye take th' risk?'
she says.  'Did ye see th' captain?' he
says with a scowl.   ' He wanted to go.
Did ye think I'd follow a Kerry man with
all th' ward lukkin' on?' he says.
"Well, so he wint dhrivin' th' hose-cart
on wan wheel, an' jumpin' whin he heerd a
man so much as hit a glass to make it ring.



150          MR. DOOLEY
All th' people looked up to him, an' th' kids
followed him down th' sthreet; an' 'twas th'
gr-reatest priv'lige f'r anny wan f'r to play
dominos with    him   near th' joker.   But
about a year ago he come in to see me, an'
says he, 'Well, I'm goin' to quit.'  'Why,'
says I, 'ye'er a young man yet,' I says.
" Faith,' he says, ' look at me hair,' he says,
--' young heart, ol' head.   I've been at it
these twinty year, an' th' good woman's
wantin' to see more iv me thin blowin' into
a saucer iv coffee,' he says. ' I'm goin' to
quit,' he says, c on'y I want to see wan more
good fire,' he says. 'A   rale good ol' hot
wan,' he says, 'with th' win' blowin' f'r it
an' a good dhraft in th' ilivator-shaft, an'
about two stories, with pitcher-frames an'
gasoline an' excelsior, an' to hear th' chief
yellin': "Play 'way, sivinteen. What th' hell
an' damnation are ye standin' aroun' with
that pipe f'r? Is this a fire 'r a dam livin'
pitcher? I'll break ivry man iv eighteen,
four, six, an' chem'cal five to-morrah mornin'
befure breakfast."   Oh,' he says, bringin'
his fist down, ' wan more, an' I'll quit.'



ON FIREMEN              151
" An' he did, Jawn. Th' day th' Carpenter Brothers' box factory burnt. 'Twas wan
iv thim big, fine-lookin' buildings that pious
men built out iv celluloid an' plasther iv
Paris. An' Clancy was wan iv th' men
undher whin th' wall fell. I seen thim
bringin' him home; an' th' little woman met
him at th' dure, rumplin' her apron in her
hands."



ON THE GAME OF FOOTBALL.
C WHIN I was a young man," said Mr.
Dooley, cc an' that was a long time ago,but not so long ago as manny iv me inimies'd like to believe, if I had anny inimies,
- I played fut-ball, but 'twas not th' futball I see whin th' Brothers' school an' th'
Saint Aloysius Tigers played las' week on
th' pee-raries.
c Whin I was a la-ad, iv a Sundah afthernoon we'd get out in th' field where th' oats'd
been cut away, an' we'd choose up sides.
Wan cap'n'd pick one man, an' th' other
another.  'I choose Dooley,' c I choose
O'Connor,' c I choose Dimpsey,' c I choose
Riordan,' an' so on till there was twinty-five
or thirty on a side. Thin wan cap'n'd kick
th' ball, an' all our side'd r-run at it an'
kick it back; an' thin wan iv th' other side'd
kick it to us, an' afther awhile th' game'd
get so timpischous that all th' la-ads iv both
sides'd be in wan pile, kickin' away at wan or
th' other or at th' ball or at th' impire, who



ON FOOTBALL

153

was mos'ly a la-ad that cudden't play an'
that come out less able to play thin he was
whin he wint in. An', if anny wan laid
hands on th' ball, he was kicked be ivry wan
else an' be th' impire.    We played fr'm
noon till dark, an' kicked th' ball all th'
way home in the moonlight.
cc That was futball, an' I was a great wan
to play it. I'd think nawthin' iv histin' th'
ball two hundherd feet in th' air, an' wanst
I give it such a boost that I stove in th'
ribs iv th' Prowtestant minister-bad luck
to him, he was a kind man - that was
lookin' on fr'm a hedge. I was th' finest
player in th' whole county, I was so.
cc But this here game that I've been seein'
ivry time th' pagan fistival iv Thanksgivin'
comes ar-round, sure it ain't th' game I
played. I seen th' Dorgan la-ad comin' up
th' sthreet yesterdah in his futball clothes,
- a pair iv matthresses on his legs, a pillow
behind, a mask over his nose, an' a bushel
measure iv hair on his head. He was followed be three men with bottles, Dr. Ryan,



154          MR. DOOLEY
an' th' Dorgan fam'ly. I jined thim. They
was a big crowd on th' peerary,-a bigger
crowd than ye cud get to go f'r to see a
prize fight.  Both sides had their frinds
that give th' colledge   cries.  Says wan
crowd: 'Take an ax, an      ax, an  ax  to
thim. Hooroo, hooroo, hellabaloo. Christyan Bro-others!' an' th' other says, ' Hit
thim, saw thim, gnaw thim, chaw thim,
Saint Alo-ysius!' Well, afther awhile they
got down to wur-ruk.      ' Sivin, eighteen,
two, four,' says a la-ad. I've seen people go mad over figures durin' th' free
silver campaign, but I niver see figures
make a man want f'r to go out an' kill his
fellow-men befure. But these here figures
had th' same effect on th' la-ads that a mintion iv Lord Castlereagh'd have on their
fathers. Wan la-ad hauled off, an' give a
la-ad acrost fr'm him a punch in th' stomach. His frind acrost th' way caught him
in th' ear.   Th' cinter rush iv th' Saint
Aloysiuses took a runnin' jump at th' left
lung iv wan iv th' Christyan Brothers, an'



ON FOOTBALL                155
wint to th' grass with him. Four Christyan
Brothers leaped most crooly at four Saint
Aloysiuses, an' rolled thim. Th' cap'n iv
th' Saint Aloysiuses he took th' cap'n iv th'
Christyan Brothers be th' leg, an' he pounded
th' pile with him as I've seen a section hand
tamp th' thrack. All this time young Dorgan was standin' back, takin' no hand in th'
affray. All iv a suddent he give a cry iv
rage, an' jumped feet foremost into th' pile.
c Down!' says th' impire. c Faith, they are
all iv that,' says I, cWill iver they get up?'
'They will,' says ol' man Dorgan. cYe can't
stop thim,' says he.
" It took some time f'r to pry thim off.
Near ivry man iv th' Saint Aloysiuses was
tied in a knot around wan iv th' Christyan
Brothers. On'y wan iv them remained on
th' field. He was lyin' face down, with his
nose in th' mud. ' He's kilt,' says I. ' I
think he is,' says Dorgan, with a merry
smile. 'Twas my boy Jimmy done it, too,'
says he. c He'll be arrested f'r murdher,'
says I. 'c He will not,' says he. c There's



156         MR. DOOLEY
on'y wan polisman in town cud take him,
an' he's down town doin' th' same f'r somebody,' he says. Well, they carried th' corpse
to th' side, an' took th' ball out iv his stomach
with a monkey wrinch, an' th' game was rayshumed. ' Sivin, sixteen, eight, eleven,' says
Saint Aloysius; an' young Dorgan started to
run down th' field. They was another young
la-ad r-runnin' in fr-front iv Dorgan; an', as
fast as wan iv th' Christyan Brothers come
up an' got in th' way, this here young Saint
Aloysius grabbed him be th' hair iv th' head
an' th' sole iv th' fut, an' thrun him over his
shoulder. c What's that la-ad doin'?' says
I. c Interferin',' says he. 'I shud think he
was,' says I, an' most impudent,' I says.
''Tis such interference as this,' I says, ' that
breaks up fam'lies'; an' I come away.
CC'Tis a noble sport, an' I'm glad to see
us Irish ar-re gettin' into it. Whin we larn
it thruly, we'll teach thim colledge joods fr'm
th' pie belt a thrick or two."
"We have already," said Mr. Hennessy.
"They'se a team   up in Wisconsin with a



ON FOOTBALL             157
la-ad be th' name iv Jeremiah Riordan f'r
cap'n, an' wan named Patsy O'Dea behind
him. They come down here, an' bate th'
la-ads fr'm th' Chicawgo Colledge down be
th' Midway."
cc Iv coorse, they did,' said Mr. Dooley.
cc Iv coorse, they did. An' they cud bate
anny collection iv Baptists that iver come
out iv a tank."



ON THE NECESSITY OF MODESTY AMONG THE RICH.
c"I WONDHER," Said Mr. Hennessy, "if
thim Hadley-Markhams that's goin' to give
th' ball, is anny kin iv th' aldherman? "
"I doubt it," said Mr. Dooley.    " I
knowed all his folks. They're Monaghan
people, an' I niver heerd iv thim marryin'
into th' Hadleys, who come fr'm away beyant near th' Joynt's Causeway. What med
ye think iv thim? "
c I was readin' about th' Prowtestant
minister that give thim such a turnin' over
th' other night," said Hennessy. Then the
Philistire went on: "cc It looks to me as
though th' man was wr-rong, an' th' Hadley-Markhams was right. Faith, th' more
th' poor can get out iv th' r-rich, th' better
f'r thim. I seen it put just r-right in th'
paper th' other day. If these people didn't
let go iv their coin here, they'd take it away
with thim to Paris or West Baden, Indiana,
an' spind it instid iv puttin' it in circulation



MODESTY AND THE RICH              i59
amongst th' florists an' dhressmakers an'
hackmen they'll have to hire. I believe in
encouragin' th' rich to walk away fr'm their
change. 'Tis gr-reat f'r business."
Mr. Dooley mused over this proposition
some time before he said:"Years ago, whin I was a little bit iv a
kid, hardly high enough to look into th'
pot iv stirabout on th' peat fire, they was a
rich landlord in our part iv Ireland; an' he
ownded near half th' counthryside. His
name was Dorsey,--Willum Edmund Fitzgerald Dorsey, justice iv th' peace, mimber
iv Parlymint.
" I'll niver tell ye how much land that
man had in his own r-right. Ye cud walk
f'r a day without lavin' it, bog an' oat-field
an' pasthure an' game presarves. He was
smothered with money, an' he lived in a
house as big as th' Audjitoroom Hotel.
Manny's th' time I've seen him ride by
our place, an' me father'd raise his head
from th' kish iv turf an' touch his hat to
th' gr-reat man. An' wanst or twict in th'



16o

MR. DOOLEY

month th' dogs'd come yelpin' acrost our
little place, with lads follerin' afther in r-red
coats; f'r this Dorsey was a gr-reat huntsman, bad scran to his evil face.
" He had th' r-reputation iv bein' a good
landlord so long as th' crops come regular.
He was vilent, it's thrue, an' 'd as lave as
not cut a farmer acrost th' face with his
whip f'r crossin' th' thrail iv th' fox; but
he was liberal with his money, an', Hinnissy,
that's a thrait that covers a multitude iv
sins.   He give freely to th' church, an'
was as gin'rous to th' priest as to th' parson. He had th' gintry f'r miles around
to his big house f'r balls an' dinners an'
huntin' meetin's, an' half th' little shopkeepers in th' neighborin' town lived on
th' money he spent f'r th' things he didn't
bring  fr'm  Dublin   or London.      I mind
wanst a great roar wint up whin he stayed
th' whole season in England with his fam'ly.
It near broke th' townsfolk, an' they were
wild with delight whin he come back an'
opened up th' big house.



MODESTY AND THE RICH 161
cc But wan year there come a flood iv rain,
an' th nex' year another flood, an' th' third
year there wasn't a lumper turned up that
wasn't blue-black to th' hear-rt. We was
betther off than most, an' we suffered our
share, Gawd knows; but thim       that was
scrapin' th' sod f'r a bare livin' fr'm day to
day perished like th' cattle in ih' field.
"Thin come th' writs an' th' evictions.
Th' bailiffs dhrove out in squads, seizin'
cattle an' turnin' people into th' r-road.
Nawthin' wud soften th' hear-rt iv Dorsey.
I seen th' priest an' th' 'Piscopal ministher
dhrivin' over to plead with him wan night;
an' th' good man stopped at our house,
comin' back, an' spent th' night with us. I
heerd him tell me father what Dorsey said.
c Haven't I been lib'ral with me people?' he
says. 'Haven't I give freely to ye'er churches?
Haven't I put up soup-houses an' disthributed blankets whin th' weather was cold?
Haven't I kept th' shopkeepers iv th' town
beyant fr'm starvin' be thradin' with thim an'
stayin' in this cur-rsed counthry, whin, if I'd



I62

MR. DOOLEY

done what me wife wanted, I'd been r-runnin'
around Europe, enj'yin' life?  I'm a risidint
landlord. I ain't like Kilduff, that laves his
estate in th' hands iv an agint. I'm proud iv
me station. I was bor-rn here, an' here I'll
die; but I'll have me r-rights. These here
people owes their rent, an' I'll get th' rent or
th' farms if I have to call on ivry rig'mint
fr'm Bombay to Cape Clear, an' turn ivry
oat-field into a pasture f'r me cattle. I
stand on th' law. I'm a just man, an' I ask
no more thin what belongs to me.'
cc Ivry night they was a party on th' hill,
an' th' people come fr'm miles around; an'
th' tinants trudgin' over th' muddy roads
with th' peelers behind thim cud see th'
light poorin' out fr'm th' big house an' hear
Devine's band playin' to th' dancers. Th'
shopkeepers lived in clover, an' thanked th'
lord f'r a good landlord, an' wan that lived
at home. But one avnin' a black man be
th' name iv Shaughnessy, that had thramped
acrost th' hills fr'm Galway just in time to
rent f'r th' potato rot, wint and hid himself



MODESTY AND THE RICH 163
in a hedge along th' road with a shotgun
loaded with hardware under his coat. Dorsey'd heerd talk iv the people bein' aggrieved
at him givin' big parties while his bailiffs
were hustlin' men and women off their holdin's; but he was a high-handed man, an' foolish in his pride, an' he'd have it no other
way but that he'd go about without protection. This night he rode alongside th' carredge iv some iv his frinds goin' to th' other
side iv town, an' come back alone in th'
moonlight. Th' Irish ar-re poor marksmen,
Hinnissy, except whin they fire in platoons;
but that big man loomin' up in th' moonlight on a black horse cud no more be
missed thin th' r-rock iv Cashel. He niver
knowed what hit him; an' Pether th' Packer
come down th' followin' month, an' a jury iv
shopkeepers hanged Shaughnessy so fast it
med even th' judge smile."
" Well," said Mr. Hennessy, "' I suppose
he desarved it; but, if I'd been on th' jury,
I'd've starved to death befure I'd give th'
verdict."



164        MR. DOOLEY
"Thrue," said Mr. Dooley. "An' Dorsey was a fool. He might've evicted twinty
thousan' tinants, an' lived to joke about it
over his bottle. 'Twas th' music iv th'
band an' th' dancin' on th' hill an' th' lights
th' Galway man seen whin he wint up th'
muddy road with his babby in his arrums
that done th' business f'r Dorsey."



ON THE POWER OF LOVE.
" 'TWAS this way," said Mr. Hennessy,
sparring at Mr. Dooley.     " Fitz led his
right light on head, thin he stuck his thumb
in Corbett's hear-rt, an' that was th' end iv
th' fight an' iv Pompydour Jim. I tol' ye
how it wud come out. Th' punch over th'
hear-rt done th' business."
"Not at all," said Mr. Dooley. "Not at
all. 'Twas Mrs. Fitzsimmons done th' business. Did ye see the pitcher iv that lady?
Did ye? Well, 'twud've gone har-rd with
th' lad if he'd lost th' fight in th' ring.
He'd have to lose another at home. I'll
bet five dollars that th' first lady iv th' land
licks th' champeen without th' aid iv a
stove lid. I know it.
"As me good frind, Jawn Sullivan, says,
'tis a great comfort to have little reminders
iv home near by whin ye're fightin'. Jawn
had none, poor lad; an' that accounts f'r th'
way he wint down at last. Th' home infloo-ence is felt in ivry walk iv life. Whin



166          MR. DOOLEY
Corbett was poundin' th' first jintleman iv
th' land like a man shinglin' a roof, th' first
lady iv th' land stood in th' corner, cheerin'
on th' bruised an' bleedin' hero. ' Darlin"
she says, 'think iv ye'er home, me love.
Think,' she says, 'iv our little child larnin'
his caddychism in Rahway, New Jersey,'
she says. ' Think iv th' love I bear ye,' she
says, ' an' paste him,' she says,' in th' slats.
Don't hit him on th' jaw,' she says. c He's
well thrained there. But tuck ye'er lovin'
hooks into his diseased an' achin' ribs,' she
says.   'Ah, love!' she says,    recall thim
happy goolden days iv our coortship, whin
we walked th' counthry lane in th' light iv
th' moon,' she says, 'an hurl yer maulies into
his hoops,' she says. 'Hit him on th' slats!'
An' Fitz looked over his shoulder an' seen
her face, an' strange feelin's iv tendherness
come over him; an' thinks he to himself:
'What is so good as th' love iv a pure
woman?     If I don't nail this large man,
she'll prob'ly   kick  in  me   head.'   An'
with this sacred sintimint in his heart he



ON THE POWER OF LOVE 167
wint over an' jolted Corbett wan over th'
lathes that retired him to th' home f'r decayed actors.
" 'Twas woman's love that done it, Hinnissy. I'll make a bet with ye that, if th'
first lady iv th' land had been in th' ring instead iv th' first jintleman, Corbett wudden't
have lasted wan r-round. I'd like to have
such a wife as that. I'd do th' cookin', an'
lave th' fightin' to her. There ought to be
more like her. Th' throuble with th' race
we're bringin' up is that th' fair sect, as
Shakespeare calls thim, lacks inthrest in their
jooty to their husbands. It's th' business iv
men to fight, an' th' business iv their wives
f'r to make thim fight. Ye may talk iv th'
immyrality iy nailin' a man on th' jaw, but
'tis in this way on'y that th' wurruld increases
in happiness an' th' race in strenth. Did ye
see annywan th' other day that wasn't askin'
to know how th' fight come out? They
might say that they re-garded th' exhibition
as brutal an' disgustin', but divvle a wan iv
thim but was waitin' around th' corner f'r



168

MR. DOOLEY

th' rayturns, an' prayin' f'r wan or th' other
iv th' big lads. Father Kelly mentioned th'
scrap in his sermon last Sundah. He said
it was a disgraceful an' corruptin' affair, an'
he was ashamed to see th' young men iv th'
parish takin' such an inthrest in it in Lent.
But late Winsdah afthernoon he came bustlin' down th' sthreet. ' Nice day,' he says.
It was poorin' rain. c Fine,' says I. 'They
was no parade to-day,' he says. 'No,' says
I. ' Too bad,' says he; an' he started to go.
Thin he turned, an' says he: ' Be th' way,
how did that there foul an' outhrajous affray
in Carson City come out?'      'Fitz,' says I,
' in th' fourteenth.' 'Ye don't say,' he says,
dancin' around.   ' Good,' he says.   ' I told
Father Doyle this mornin' at breakfuss that
if that red-headed man iver got wan punch at
th' other lad, I'd bet a new cassock - Oh,
dear!' he says, c what am I sayin'?' ' Ye're
sayin',' says I, ' what nine-tenths iv th' people, laymen an' clargy, are sayin',' I says.
'Well,' he says, ' I guess ye're right.' he
says. 'Afther all,' he says, ' an' undher all,



ON THE POWER OF LOVE 169
we're mere brutes; an' it on'y takes two lads
more brutal than th' rest f'r to expose th'
sthreak in th' best iv us. Foorce rules th'
wurruld, an' th' churches is empty whin
th' blood begins to flow,' he says. c It's too
bad, too bad,' he says. ' Tell me, was Corbett much hurted?' he says."



ON THE VICTORIAN ERA.

"AR-RE ye goin' to cillybrate th' queen's
jubilee?" asked Mr. Dooley.
"What's that?" demanded Mr. Hennessy, with a violent start.
"To-day," said Mr. Dooley, "her gracious Majesty Victorya, Queen iv Great
Britain an' that part iv Ireland north iv
Sligo, has reigned f'r sixty long and tiresome years."
" I don't care if she has snowed f'r sixty
years," said Mr. Hennessy. " I'll not cillybrate it. She may be a good woman f'r all
I know, but dam her pollytics."
"Ye needn't be pro-fane about it," said
Mr. Dooley. "I on'y ast ye a civil question. F'r mesilf, I have no feelin' on th'
subject. I am not with th' queen an' I'm
not again her. At th' same time I corjally
agree with me frind Captain Finerty, who's
put his newspaper in mournin' f'r th' ivint.
I won't march in th' parade, an' I won't put
anny dinnymite undher thim that does. I



ON THE VICTORIAN ERA 171
don't say th' marchers an' dinnymiters ar-re
not both r-right. 'Tis purely a question iv
taste, an', as the ixicutive says whin both
candydates are mimbers iv th' camp, 'Pathrites will use their own discreetion.'
" Th' good woman niver done me no
har-rm; an', beyond throwin' a rock or two
into an orangey's procission an' subscribin' to
tin dollars' worth iv Fenian bonds, I've
threated her like a lady. Anny gredge I
iver had again her I burrid long ago. We're
both well on in years, an' 'tis no use carrying
har-rd feelin's to th' grave. About th' time
th' 16rd chamberlain wint over to tell her
she was queen, an' she came out in her nitey
to hear th' good news, I was announced into
this wurruld iv sin an' sorrow. So ye see
we've reigned about th' same lenth iv time,
an' I ought to be cillybratin' me di'mon' jubilee. I wud, too, if I had anny di'mon's.
Do ye r-run down to Aldherman O'Brien's
an' borrow twinty or thirty fr me.
" Great happenin's have me an' Queen
Victorya seen in these sixty years. Durin'



172

MR. DOOLEY

our binificent prisince on earth th' nations
have grown r-rich an' prosperous. Great
Britain has ixtinded her domain until th' sun
niver sets on it. No more do th' original
owners iv th' sile, they bein' kept movin' be
th' polis. While she was lookin' on in
England, I was lookin' on in this counthry.
I have seen America spread out fr'm th' Atlantic to th' Pacific, with a branch office iv
the Standard Ile Comp'ny in ivry hamlet.
I've seen th' shackles dropped fr'm th' slave,
so's he cud be lynched in Ohio.   I've seen
this gr-reat city desthroyed be fire fr'm De
Koven Sthreet to th' Lake View pumpin'
station, and thin rise felix-like fr'm its ashes,
all but th' West Side, which was not burned.
I've seen Jim Mace beat Mike McCool, an'
Tom Allen beat Jim Mace, an' somebody
beat Tom Allen, an' Jawn Sullivan beat him,
an' Corbett beat Sullivan, an' Fitz beat Corbett; an', if I live to cillybrate me gooldwatch-an'-chain jubilee, I may see some wan
put it all over Fitz.
" Oh, what things I've seen in me day an'



ON THE VICTORIAN ERA 173
Victorya's! Think iv that gran' procission
iv lithry men,- Tinnyson an' Longfellow
an' Bill Nye an' Ella Wheeler Wilcox an'
Tim Scanlan an' - an' I can't name thim
all: they're too manny. An' th' brave
gin'rals,- Von  Molkey an' Bismarck an'
U. S. Grant an' gallant Phil Shurdan an'
Coxey. Think iv thim durin' me reign.
An' th' invintions,- th' steam-injine an' th'
printin'-press an' th' cotton-gin an' the gin
sour an' th' bicycle an' th' flyin'-machine an'
th' nickel-in-th'-slot machine an' th' Croker
machine an' th' sody fountain an' - crownin'
wur-ruk iv our civilization - th' cash raygisther. What gr-reat advances has science
made in my time an' Victorya's! f'r, whin we
entered public life, it took three men to
watch th' bar-keep, while to-day ye can tell
within eight dollars an hour what he's took in.
" Glory be, whin I look back fr'm this day
iv gin'ral rejoicin' in me rhinestone jubilee,
an' see what changes has taken place an'
how manny people have died an' how much
betther off th' wurruld is, I'm proud iv



174         MR. DOOLEY
mesilf. War an' pest'lence an' famine have
occurred in me time, but I count thim
light compared with th' binifits that have
fallen to th' race since I come on th' earth."
"What ar-re ye talkin' about? " cried Mr.
Hennessy, in deep disgust. "All this time
ye've been standin' behind this bar ladlin'
out disturbance to th' Sixth Wa-ard, an' ye
haven't been as far east as Mitchigan Avnoo
in twinty years. What have ye had to do
with all these things? "
"Well," said Mr. Dooley, "I had as
much to do with thim as th' queen."



ON THE CURRENCY QUESTION.
" THERE' S some tough knots in this here
currency question," said Mr. McKenna.
"A lot of things I don't quite catch."
" Cough thim up," said Mr. Dooley.
"I'm a reg'lar caddychism iv coinage. Who
made ye? Gawd made me. Why did he
make ye? F'r to know Him, love Him,
an' sarve Him all me days. That's th' way
iv th' caddychism I learned whin I was a
la-ad behind a hedge; but now 'tis: Who
made ye? Ladenburg, Thalman an' Comp'ny made me. Why did they make ye?
F'r to know thim, love thim, an' sarve thim
all me days. 0-ho! "
"That's all r-right," said Mr. Thomas
Larkin, the Kerry horseshoer, who was leaning over the cigar-case, reading what Mr.
Lincoln, Mr. Blaine, Mr. Edward Atkinson,
and Mr. Andrew D. White had to say in
a small pamphlet.   "That's all r-right,
Martin. But ye're talkin' like a Populist
an' an anarchist an' a big bullhead gen'rally.



176

MR. DOOLEY

Ye bring up two or three Jew men, an' think
f'r to scare us with thim. But look here.
Supposin' a man comes into my place an'
lays down on th' anvil a silver dollar, an' I
give it a wallop with me hammer ""Thin," said Mr. Dooley, " ye're knockin'
th' gover'mint."
" How am I? " said Mr. Larkin. "Niver
mind now: I take this here silver dollar, an'
I fetch it wan with me hammer. What
happens?"
c Th' man that give ye th' dollar hands
ye wan in th' nose," said Mr. Dooley.
"Not at all, not at -all," said Mr. Larkin. " I take this here mutilated an' disfigured an' bum dollar down to th' three-asury,
an' I hand it in; an' Carlisle says, ' What
kind iv an ol' piece iv mud is this ye're
flingin' at me?' he says.  ' Take it away:
it's nawthin' to me.' "
"True for you, Larkin," said Mr. McKenna. "You're on the right track. Carlisle couldn't take it after you'd smashed
it."



ON THE CURRENCY

177

c But," said Mr. Dooley, "look here: if
ye had th' free an' unlimited coinage iv silver at a rat-io iv sixteen to wan, ye cud take
this here mass iv silver down to Carlisle, an'
say, 'Here, Jawn, give me a dollar'; an'
he'd have to give it to ye."
"A dollar of what?" said Mr. McKenna.
"A dollar iv what? " repeated Mr. Dooley. "A dollar iv what? Man alive, don't
ye know what a dollar is? Carlisle'd hand
him out a plunk, a case, a buck. He'd say,
' Here, Larkin, ye're a dam fool to be malthreatin' th' currincy iv yer adophted counthry, but I have to give ye a dollar because
ye're a good fellow an' a frind iv Dooley's.'"
"He wouldn't say anything of the kind,"
said Mr. McKenna. "He'd give Larkin
fifty cents."
" I'd push his face in if he did," said Mr.
Larkin, warmly. "I'm as good a ma-an as
he is anny day. I'll have no man rob me."
" But he wouldn't rob you," said Mr. McKenna. "Think of the purchasing power:



178

MR. DOOLEY

you've got to always figure that out. A dollar you'd get then would be worth only half
as much as it's worth now. It'd be a dollar
like they run through the ringer down in
Mexico."
" How can wan dollar be worth on'y half
as much as another dollar, if they're both
dollars an' th' man that made thim is at
la-arge?" answered Mr. Dooley. "Here's
a dollar, an' here's a dollar. Wan akels th'
other. Now you take this here dollar, an'
come into my place. ' Give me a brandy
an' sody,' ye say. Thin what do I say?"
"You say you're just out of brandy and
soda."
"So I do, so I do. Thin you ask f'r
a little liquor with beer f'r a chaser. An'
I give it to ye, Ye lay down wan iv these
here quartz dollars. I return eighty-five
cints. Larkin comes in later, ordhers th'
same thing, an' I give him th' same threatment. I play no fav-rites. Entertainmint
f'r man an' beast."
"But, if we had free silver, you'd charge
thirty cents for the drink," said Mr. McKenna.



ON THE CURRENCY               179
"I wud not," said Mr. Dooley, hotly.
* I niver overcharged a man in my life, except durin' a campaign."
"No one accuses you of overcharging,"
explained  Mr. McKenna.      "Everybody
would charge the same. It'd be the regular
price."
" If it was," said Mr. Dooley, " they'd be
a rivolution. But I don't believe it, Jawn.
Let me tell ye wan thing. Whisky is th'
standard iv value. It niver fluctuates; an'
that's funny, too, seein' that so much iv it
goes down. It was th' same price - fifteen
cints a slug, two f'r a quarther - durin' the
war; an' it was th' same price afther the war.
The day befure th' crime iv sivinty-three it
was worth fifteen cints: it was worth th' same
th' day afther. Goold and silver fluctuates,
up wan day, down another; but whisky
stands firm an' strong, unchangeable as th'
skies, immovable as a rock at fifteen or two
f'r a quarther. If they want something solid
as a standard iv value, something that niver
is rajjooced in price, something ye can ex


180         MR. DOOLEY
change f'r food an' other luxuries annywhere
in th' civilized wurruld where man has a
thirst, they'd move th' Mint over to th' internal rivinue office, and lave it stay there."
Both Mr. Larkin and Mr. McKenna
were diverted by this fancy.
"There's some good argumints on both
sides iv th' quisthion," said the Kerry man.
"I heerd a man be th' name of Doyle, a
helper, compare money to th' human lungs."
"Th' lung argumint is all right," said Mr.
Dooley. "Th' whole currency question is a
matther iv lungs."



ON POLITICAL PARADES.

MR. HENNESSY, wearing a silver-painted
stove-pipe hat and a silver cape and carrying
a torch, came in, looking much the worse for
wear. The hat was dented, the cape was
torn, and there were marks on Mr. Hennessy's face.
"Where ye been? " asked Mr. Dooley.
"Ma-archin,'" said Mr. Hennessy.
" Be th' looks iv ye, ye might have been
th' line iv ma-arch f'r th' p'rade. Who's
been doin' things to ye?"
" I had a currency debate with a man be
th' name iv Joyce, a towny iv mine, in th'
Audjiotoroom Hotel," said Mr. Hennessy.
"Whin we got as far as th' price iv wheat
in th' year iv th' big wind, we pushed each
other. Give me a high glass iv beer. I'm
as dhry as a gravel roof."
"Well," said Mr. Dooley, handing over
the glass, "ye're an ol' man; an', as th' good
book says, an ol' fool is th' worst yet. So
I'll not thry to con-vince ye iv th' error iv



182

MR. DOOLEY

ye'er ways. But why anny citizen that has
things in his head shud dhress himself up
like a sandwich-man, put a torch on his
shoulder, an' toddle over this blessid town
with his poor round feet, is more than I can
come at with all me intelligence.
" I agree with ye perfectly, Hinnissy, that
this here is a crisis in our histhry. On wan
hand is arrayed th' Shylocks an' th' pathrites,
an' on th' other side th' pathrites an' th'
arnychists. Th' Constitution must be upheld, th' gover'mint must be maintained,
th' down-throdden farmer an' workin'man
must get their rights. But do ye think,
man alive, that ye're goin' to do this be
pourin' lard ile frim ye'er torch down ye'er
spine or thrippin' over sthreet-car tracks like
a dhray-horse thryin' to play circus?  Is th'
Constitution anny safer to-night because ye
have to have ye'er leg amputated to get
ye'er boot off, or because Joyce has made
ye'er face look like th' back dure-step iv a
German resthrant?
"Jawnny Mack took me down in th'



ON POLITICAL PARADES 183
afthernoon f'r to see th' monsthrous p'rade
iv th' goold men. It was a gloryous spectacle. Th' sthreets were crowded with goold
bugs an' women an' polismin an' ambulances.
Th' procission was miles an' miles long.
Labor an' capital marched side be side, or
annyhow labor was in its usual place, afther
th' capitalists. It was a noble sight f'r to
see th' employer iv workin'men marchin'
ahead iv his band iv sturdy toilers that to
rest thimsilves afther th' layboryous occupations iv th' week was reelin' undher banners
that dhrilled a hole in their stomachs or
carryin' two-be-four joists to show their allegance to th' naytional honor. A man that
has to shovel coke into a dhray or shove
lumber out iv th' hole iv a barge or elevate
his profession be carryin' a hod iv mort to
th' top iv a laddher doesn't march with th'
grace iv an antelope, be a blamed sight.
To march well, a man's feet have to be
mates; an', if he has two left feet both runnin'
sideways, he ought to have interference boots
to keep him fr'm settin' fire to his knees.



184          MR. DOOLEY
Whin a man walks as if he expected to lave
a leg stuck in th' sthreet behind him, he has
th' gait proper f'r half-past six o'clock th'
avenin' befure pay-day. But 'tis not th'
prance iv an American citizen makin' a
gloryous spectacle iv himsilf."
" They were coerced," said Mr. Hennessy,
gloomily.
" Don't ye believe it," replied the philosopher. "It niver requires coercion to get a
man to make a monkey iv himsilf in a prisidintial campaign. He does it as aisily as ye
dhrink ye'er liquor, an' that's too aisy. Don't
ye believe thim lads with lumber ya-ards on
their necks an' bar'ls on their feet was coerced. There wasn't wan iv thim that wudden't give his week's wages f'r a chanst to
show how many times he cud thrip over a
manhole in a mile. No more co-erced than
ye are whin ye r-run down town an' make
an ape iv ye-ersilf. I see ye marchin' away
fr'm Finucane's with th' Willum J. O'Briens.
Th' man nex' to ye had a banner declarin'
that he was no slave. 'Twas th' la-ad John


ON POLITICAL PARADES 185
son. He was r-right. He is no slave, an'
he won't be wan as long as people have washin'
to give to his wife. Th' man I see ye takin' a
dhrink with had a banner that said if th'
mines was opened th' mills would be opened,
too. He meant be that, that if money was
plenty enough f'r him to get some without
wur-rukin', he'd open a gin mill. An' ye
ma-arched afther Willum J. O'Brien, didn't
ye? Well, he's a good la-ad. If I didn't
think so, I wudden't say it until I got me
strenth back or cud buy a gun. But did
Willum J. O'Brien march? Not Willie.
He was on horseback; an', Hinnissy, if
dollars was made out iv Babbit metal, an'
horses was worth sixty-sivin cints a dhrove,
ye cudden't buy a crupper."
"Well," said Mr. Hennessy, "annyhow,
I proved me hathred iv capital."
"So ye did," said Mr. Dooley. "So ye
did. An' capital this afthernoon showed its
hatred iv ye. Ye ought to match blisters to
see which hates th' worst.  Capital is at
home now with his gams in a tub iv hot



186         MR. DOOLEY
wather; an,' whin he comes down to-morrah
to oppriss labor an' square his protisted
notes, he'll have to go on all fours. As f'r
you, Hinnissy, if 'twill aise ye anny, ye can
hang f'r a few minyits fr'm th' gas fixtures.
Did th' goold Dimmycrats have a p'rade?"
"No," said Mr. Hennessy. "But they
rayviewed th' day procission fr'm th' Pammer
House. Both iv thim was on th' stand."



ON CHARITY.

"BR-R-R!" cried Mr. McKenna, entering
stiffly and spreading his hands over the potbellied stove. " It's cold."
"Where?" asked Mr. Dooley.         "Not
here."
" It's cold outside," said Mr. McKenna.
"It was ten below at Shannahan's grocery
when I went by, and the wind blowing like
all possessed. Lord love us, but I pity
them that's got to be out to-night."
"Save ye'er pity," said Mr. Dooley, comfortably. "It ain't cowld in here. There's
frost on th' window, 'tis thrue for ye; an' th'
wheels has been singin' th' livelong day.
But what's that to us? Here I am, an'
there ye are, th' stove between us an' th'
kettle hummin'. In a minyit it'll bile, an'
thin I'll give ye a taste iv what'll make a
king iv ye.
"Well, tubby sure, 'tis thryin' to    be
dhrivin' a coal wagon or a sthreet-car; but 'tis
all in a lifetime. Th' diff'rence between me



I88

MR. DOOLEY

an' th' man that sets up in th' seat thumpin'
his chest with his hands is no more thin th'
diff'rence between him an' th' poor divvle
that walks along behind th' wagon with his
shovel on his shoulder, an' '11 thank th' saints
f'r th' first chanst to put tin ton iv ha-ard coal
into a cellar f'r a quarther iv a dollar. Th'
lad afoot invies th' dhriver, an' th' dhriver
invies me; an' I might invy big Cleveland if
it wasn't f'r th' hivinly smell iv this here
noggin.    An' who does Cleveland invy?
Sure, it'd be sacreliege f'r me to say.
" Me ol' father, who was as full iv sayin's
as an almanac, used to sink his spoon into
th' stirabout, an' say, 'Well, lads, this ain't
bacon an' greens an' porther; but it'll be
annything ye like if ye'll on'y think iv th'
Cassidys.'   Th' Cassidys was th' poorest
fam'ly in th' parish. They waked th' oldest
son in small beer, an' was little thought of.
Did me father iver ask thim in to share th'
stirabout? Not him.     An' he was the kindest man in th' wurruld. He had a heart in
him as big as a lump iv turf, but he'd say,



ON CHARITY

189

'Whin ye grow up, take no wan's sorrows to
ye'ersilf,' he says. ''Tis th' wise man that
goes through life thinkin' iv himsilf, fills his
own stomach, an' takes away what he can't
ate in his pocket.' An' he was r-right, Jawn.
We have throubles enough iv our own. Th'
wurruld goes on just th' same, an' ye can find
fifty men to say th' lit'ny f'r ye to wan
that'll give ye what'll relieve a fastin' spit.
Th' dead ar-re always pop'lar. I knowed
a society wanst to vote a monyment to a
man an' refuse to help his fam'ly, all in
wan night. 'Tis cowld outside th' dure,
ye say, but 'tis war-rum in here; an'
I'm gettin' in me ol' age to think that the
diff'rence between hivin an' hell is no
broader "Mr. Dooley's remarks were cut short by
a cry from the back room. It was unmistakably a baby's cry. Mr. McKenna turned
suddenly in amazement as Mr. Dooley
bolted.
" Well, in the name of the saints, what's
all this?" he cried, following his friend into



19go

MR. DOOLEY

the back room. He found the philosopher,
with an expression of the utmost sternness,
sitting on the side of his bed, with a little
girl of two or three in his arms. The philosopher was singing: -
Ar-rah rock-a-bye, babby, on th' three top:
Whin th' wind blo-ows, th' cradle ull r-rock;
An', a-whin th' bough breaks, th' cradle ull fa-a-a-ll,
An' a-down ull come babby, cradle, an' all.
Then he sang:In th' town iv Kilkinny there du-wilt a fair ma-aid,
In th' town iv Kilkinny there du-wilt a fair ma-aid.
She had cheeks like th' roses, an' hair iv th' same,
An' a mouth like ripe sthrawburries burrid in crame.
He rocked the child to and fro, and its
crying ceased while he sang:Chip, chip, a little horse;
Chip, chip, again, sir.
How manny miles to Dublin?
Threescure an' tin, sir.
The little girl went to sleep on Mr. Dooley's white apron. He lifted her tenderly,



ON CHARITY              191
and carried her over to his bed. Then he
-tiptoed out with an apprehensive face, and
whispered: " It's Jawn Donahue's kid that
wandherd away fr'm home, an' wint to sleep
on me dure-step. I sint th' Dorsey boy to
tell th' mother, but he's a long time gone.
Do ye run over, Jawn, an' lave thim know."



ON NANSEN.

"I SEE," said Mr. Dooley, "that Doc
Nansen has come back."
"Yes," said  Mr. McKenna.     "It's a
wonder he wouldn't stay till winter. If I
was setting on an iceberg in latitude umptyump north of Evanston these days, they
couldn't pry me off it with a crowbar. Not
they."
"He had to come back," explained Mr.
Hennessy. "He got as far as he cud, an'
thin he was foorced be th' inclimincy iv th'
weather to return to his home in Feechoold,
Norway."
"To where?" Mr. Dooley asked contemptuously.
"To Foocheeld, Norway," said Mr. Hennessy, with some misgivings.
" Ye don't know what ye're talkin' about,"
retorted the philosopher. "Ye ought to go
back to school an' study gee-ography. Th'
place he come back to was Oostook, Norway, between Coopenhaagen an'-an' Rogers
Park."



ON   NANSEN               193
" Maybe ye're right," said Mr. Hennessy.
"Annyhow, he come back, chased be a polar
bear. It must iv been a thrillin' experience,
leppin' fr'm iceberg to iceberg, with a polar
bear grabbin' at th' seat iv his pants, an' now
an' thin a walrus swoopin' down fr'm a three
an' munchin' his hat."
"What ta-alk have ye? " Mr. Dooley demanded. "A walrus don't fly, foolish man!"
"What does he do, thin?" asked Mr.
Hennessy. "Go 'round on crutches?"
"A walrus," said Mr. Dooley, "is an animal something like a hor-rse, but more like
a balloon. It doesn't walk, swim, or fly.
It rowls whin pur-suin' its prey. It whirls
'round an' 'round at a speed akel to a railroad injine, meltin' th' ice in a groove behind
it. Tame walruses are used be th' Eskeemyoos, th' old settlers iv thim parts, as lawnmowers an' to press their clothes. Th' wild
walrus is a mos' vicious animal, which feeds
on snowballs through th' day, an' thin goes
out iv nights afther artic explorers, which
for-rms its principal diet. Theyse a gr-reat



194

MR. DOOLEY

demand among walruses f'r artic explorers,
Swedes preferred; an' on account iv th'
scarcity iv this food it isn't more than wanst
in twinty years that th' walrus gets a square
meal. Thin he devours his victim, clothes,
collar-buttons, an' all."
"Well, well," said Mr. Hennessy. "I had
no idee they was that ferocious. I thought
they were like bur-rds.     Don't they lay
eggs?"
" Don't they lay eggs?" Mr. Dooley replied. " Don't they lay eggs?   Did ye iver
hear th' like iv that, Jawn? Why, ye gaby,
ye might as well ask me does a pianny lay
eggs. Iv coorse not."
" I'd like to know what the objict of these
here arctic explorations is," interposed Mr.
McKenna, in the interests of peace.
" Th' principal objict is to get rid iv an
over-supply iv foolish people," said Mr.
Dooley. " In this counthry, whin a man begins f'r to see sthrange things, an' hitch
up cockroaches, an' think he's Vanderbilt
dhrivin' a four-in-hand, we sind him to what



ON   NANSEN              '95
me ol' frind Sleepy Burk calls th' brain college.  But in Norway an' Sweden       they
sind him to th' North Pole, an' feed him to
th' polar bears an' th' walruses. A man that
scorches on a bicycle or wears a pink shirt
or is caught thryin' to fry out a stick iv dinnymite in a kitchen stove is given a boat an'
sint off to play with Flora an' Fauna in th'
frozen North."
"That's what I'd like to know," said Mr.
Hennessy.    "Who ar-re these Flora an'
Fauna?    I see be th' pa-aper that Doc
Nansen stopped at Nootchinchoot Islands,
an' saw Flora an' Fauna; an' thin, comin'
back on th' ice, he encountherd thim again."
" I suppose," said Mr. Dooley, "ye think
Flora an' Fauna is two little Eskeemy girls
at skip-rope an' London bridge is fallin'
down' on th' icebergs an' glaziers. It's a
pretty idee ye have iv th' life in thim parts.
Little Flora an' little Fauna playin' stooptag aroun' a whale or rushin' th' can f'r their
poor tired father just home fr'm th' rollin'mills, where he's been makin' snow-balls f'r



196

MR. DOOLEY

th' export thrade, or engagin' in some other
spoort iv childhood! Go wan with ye! "
" But who are they, annyhow? "
" I make it a rule in me life not to discuss
anny woman's charac-ter," replied Mr. Dooley, sternly. " If Doc Nansen was off there
skylarkin' with Flora an' Fauna, it's his own
business, an' I make no inquiries. A lady's
a lady, be she iver so humble; an', as
Shakespeare says, cursed be th' man that'd
raise an ax to her, save in th' way iv a joke.
We'll talk no scandal in this house, Hinnissy."
But, after his friend had gone, Mr. Dooley
leaned over confidentially, and whispered to
Mr. McKenna, "But who are Flora an'
Fauna, Jawn?"
" I don't know," said Mr. McKenna.
"It sounds mighty suspicious, annyhow,"
said the philosopher. " I hope th' doc'll be
able to square it with his wife."



ON A POPULIST CONVENTION.
" KEEP ye'er eye on    th' Pops, Jawn.
They're gr-reat people an' a gr-reat pa-arty.
What is their principles? Anny ol' thing
that th' other pa-arties has rijected. Some
iv thim is in favor iv coining money out iv
baled hay an' dhried apples at a ratio iv sixteen to wan, an' some is in favor iv coinin'
on'y th' apples. Thim are th' inflationists.
Others want th' gover'mint to divide up the
rivinues equally among all la-ads that's too
sthrong to wurruk. Th' Pops is again th'
banks an' again the supreme court an again
havin' gas that can be blowed out be th'
human lungs. A sthrong section is devoted
to th' principal iv separatin' Mark Hanna
fr'm his money.
"A ma-an be th' name iv Cassidy, that
thravels f'r a liquor-house, was in to see me
this mornin'; an' he come fr'm Saint Looey.
He said it beat all he iver see or heerd tell
of. Whin th' con-vintion come to ordher,
th' chairman says, 'La-ads, we'll open pro


198          MR. DOOLEY
ceedin's be havin' th' Hon'rable Rube Spike,
fr'm th' imperyal Territ'ry iv Okalahoma,
cough up his famous song, c"Pa-pa Cleveland's Teeth are filled with Goold."' ' Mr.
Chairman,' says a delegate fr'm New Mexico, risin' an' wavin' his boots in th' air, 'if
th' skate fr'm Okalahoma is allowed f'r to
belch anny in this here assimblage, th' diligates fr'm th' imperyal Territ'ry iv New Mexico'll lave th' hall. We have,' he says, 'in
our mist th' Hon'rable Lafayette Hadley,
whose notes,' he says, 'falls as sweetly on th'
ear,' he says, 'as th' plunk iv hivin's rain in
a bar'l,' he says. 'If annywan has a hemorrhage iv anthems in this hall, it'll be Lafe
Hadley, th' Guthrie batsoon,' he says. 'Ye
shall not,' he says, press down upon our
bleedin' brows,' he says, 'this cross iv
thorns,' he says. 'Ye shall not crucify th'
diligates fr'm th' imperyal Territ'ry iv New
Mexico on this cross iv a Mississippi nigger
an' Crow Injun fr'm Okalahoma,' he says.
Thereupon, says me frind Cassidy, th' New
Mexico diligation left th' hall, pursued be
th' diligation from Okalahoma.



ON A POPULIST CONVENTION i99
" Th' chairman knowed his business. 'In
ordher,' he says, 'that there may be no disordher,' he says, 'I will call upon th' imperyal States,' he says, 'an Territ'ries,' he
says, 'beginnin' with th' imperyal State iv
Alabama,' he says, 'to each sind wan singer
to th' platform,' he says, 'f'r to wring our
hear-rts with melodies,' he says.  'Meantime,' says he, 'pathrites who have diff'rences
iv opinyon on anny questions can pro-cure
ex-helves be applyin' to th' sergeant-atarms,' he says. 'Now,' he says, 'if th' gintleman fr'm th' imperyal State of Mizzoury'll hand me up a cheek full iv his eatin'
tobacco,' he says, 'we'll listen to Willyum
G. Rannycaboo, th' boy melodjun iv th'
imperyal State iv Alabama,' he says, 'who'll
discoorse his well-known ballad, 'Th' Supreme Court is Full iv Standard Ile,' he
says.
"Whin th' singin' had con-eluded, so me
frind Cassidy says, th' chair announced that
speakin' would be in ordher, an' th' con-vintion rose as wan man. Afther ordher had



200

MR. DOOLEY

been   enforced  be th' sergeant- at- arms
movin' round, an' lammin' diligates with a
hoe, a tall man was seen standin' on a chair.
F 'r some moments th' chairman was onable
to call his name, but he fin'lly found a place
to spill; an' in a clear voice he says, 'F'r
what purpose does th' gintleman fr'm the
imperyal State iv Texas arise?' 'I arise,'
says th' ma-an, 'f'r th' purpose iv warnin'
this con-vintion that we have a goold-bug in
our mist,' he says. Cries iv 'Throw him
out!' 'Search him!' 'Hang him!' arose.
'In wandhrin' through th' hall, I just seen a
man with a coat on,' he says. Great excitement ensood, says me frind Cassidy; an' th'
thremblin' victim was brought down th' aisle.
'What have ye to say f'r ye'ersilf?' demands
th' chairman in thundhrin' tones. 'On'y
this,' says th' goold-bug. 'I wandhered in
here, lookin' f'r frinds,' he says. 'I am not
a goold-bug,' he says. 'I wear me coat,' he
says, 'because I have no shirt,' he says.
' Gintlemen,' says th' chairman, 'a mistake
has been made,' he says. 'This here person,



ON A POPULIST CONVENTION 201
who bears th' appearance iv a plutocrat, is
all right underneath,' he says. 'He's a diligate to th' silver convintion,' he says. 'Go
in peace,' he says.
"Be this time 'twas gr-rowin' late, an' th'
convintion adjourned.   'Befure ye lave,'
says th' chairman, 'I have to announce that
on account iv th' chairman of the comity
havin' been imprisoned in a foldin'-bed an'
th' sicrity havin' mistook th' fire extinguisher
f'r a shower bath, they'll be no meeting' iv
th' comity on rules till to-morrow night.
Durin' th' interval,' he says,'th' convintion'll
continue ketch-as-ketch can,' he says."
"Well," said Mr. McKenna, " to think of
taking this here country out of the hands of
William C. Whitney and Grover Cleveland
and J. Pierpont Morgan and Ickleheimer
Thalmann, and putting it in the hands of
such men. What do you think about it?"
" I think," said Mr. Dooley, " that Cassidy
lied."



ON A FAMILY REUNION.

"WHY aren't you out attending the reunion of the Dooley family? " Mr. McKenna
asked the philosopher.
" Thim's no rel-ations to me," Mr. Dooley
answered. "Thim's farmer Dooleys. No
wan iv our fam'ly iver lived in th' counthry.
We live in th' city, where they burn gas an'
have a polis foorce to get on to. We're no
farmers, divvle th' bit. We belong to th'
industhreel classes. Thim must be th' Fermanagh   Dooleys, a poor lot, Jawn, an'
always on good terms with th' landlord, bad
ciss to thim, says I. We're from Roscommon. They'se a Dooley family in Wixford
an' wan near Ballybone that belonged to th'
constabulary. I met him but wanst. 'Twas
at an iviction; an', though he didn't know
me, I inthrajooced mesilf be landin' him
back iv th' ear with a bouldher th' size iv
ye'er two fists together. He didn't know
me aftherwards, ayether.
c We niver had but wan reunion iv th'



ON A FAMILY REUNION 203
Dooley fam'ly, an' that was tin years ago.
Me cousin Felix's boy Aloysius,- him that
aftherwards wint to New York an' got a
good job dhrivin' a carredge f'r th' captain
iv a polis station,- he was full iv pothry ani
things; an' he come around wan night, an'
says he, 'D'ye know,' he says, "twud be
th' hite iv a good thing f'r th' Dooleys to
have a reunion,' he says. 'We ought to
come together,' he says, 'an' show the people iv this ward,' he says, ' how sthrong we
are,' he says. 'Ye might do it betther, me
buck,' says I, ' shovellin' slag at th' mills,'
I says. ' But annyhow, if ye'er mind's set
on it, go ahead,' I says, 'an' I'll attind to
havin' th' polis there,' I says, 'f'r I have a
dhrag at th' station.'
" Well, he sint out letthers to all th' Roscommon Dooleys; an' on a Saturdah night
we come together in a rinted hall an' held th'
reunion.  'Twas great sport f'r a while.
Some iv us hadn't spoke frindly to each
other f'r twinty years, an' we set around an'
tol' stories iv Roscommon an' its green



204

MR. DOOLEY

fields, an' th' stirabout pot that was niver
filled, an' th' blue sky overhead an' th' boggy
ground undherfoot. 'Which Dooley was it
that hamsthrung th' cows?' 'Mike Dooley's
Pat.' 'Naw such thing: 'twas Pat Dooley's
Mike. I mane Pat Dooley's Mike's Pat.'
F'r 'tis with us as with th' rest iv our people.
Ye take th' Dutchman: he has as manny
names to give to his childher as they'se nails
in his boots, but an Irishman has th' pick iv
on'y a few. I knowed a man be th' name
iv Clancy,- a man fr'm  Kildare. He had
fifteen childher; an', whin th' las' come, he
says, 'Dooley, d'ye happen to know anny.
saints?' ' None iv thim thrades here,' says
I. 'Why?' says I. 'They'se a new kid at
th' house,' he says; 'an', be me troth, I've
run out iv all th' saints I knew, an', if somewan don't come to me assistance, I'll have to
turn th' child out on th' wurruld without th'
rag iv a name to his back,' he says.
"But I was tellin' ye about th' reunion.
They was lashins iv dhrink an' story-tellin',
an' Felix's boy Aloysius histed a banner he



ON A FAMILY REUNION 205
had made with ' Dooley aboo' painted on it.
But, afther th' night got along, some iv us
begun to raymimber that most iv us hadn't
been  frinds f'r long.   Mrs. Morgan
Dooley, she that was Molly Dooley befure
she married Morgan, she turns to me, an'
says she, 'Tis sthrange they let in that
Hogan woman,' she says,-that Hogan
woman, Jawn, bein' th' wife iv her husband's
brother. She heerd her say it, an' she says,
' I'd have ye to undherstand that no wan
iver come out iv Roscommon that cud hold
up their heads with th' Hogans,' she says.
C 'Tis not fr th' likes iv ye to slandher a
fam'ly that's iv th' landed gintry iv Ireland,
an' f'r two pins I'd hit ye a poke in th' eye,'
she says. If it hadn't been f'r me bein' between thim, they'd have been trouble; f'r
they was good frinds wanst. What is it th'
good book says about a woman scorned?
Faith, I've forgotten.
"Thin me uncle Mike come in, as rough
a man as iver laid hands on a polisman.
Felix Dooley was makin' a speech on th'



206          MR. DOOLEY
vartues iv th' fam'ly. 'Th' Dooleys,' says
he, ' can stand befure all th' wurruld, an' no
man can say ought agin ayether their honor
or their integrity,' says he. ' Th' man that's
throwin' that at ye,' says me uncle Mike,
c stole a saw fr'm me in th' year sivinty-five.'
Felix paid no attintion to me uncle Mike,
but wint on, 'We point proudly to th'
motto, " Dooley aboo - Dooley f river." '
'Th' saw aboo,' says me uncle Mike. 'Th'
Dooleys,' says Felix, ' stood beside Red
Hugh O'Neill; an', whin he cut aff his hand,
-' c He didn't cut it off with anny wan
else's saw,' says me uncle Mike. 'They'se
an old sayin',' wint on Felix. 'An' ol' saw,'
says me uncle Mike. 'c But 'twas new whin
ye stole it.'
"' Now look here,' says Aloysius, 'c this
thing has gone far enough. 'Tis an outrage
that this here man shud come here f'r to insult th' head iv th' fam'ly.' 'Th' head iv
what fam'ly?' says Morgan Dooley, jumpin'
up as hot as fire. ' I'm th' head iv th'
fam'ly,' he says, 'be right iv    histhry.'



ON A FAMILY REUNION 207
SYe're an ol' cow,' says me uncle Mike.
C Th' back iv me hand an' th' sowl iv me fut
to all iv ye,' he says. ' I quit ye,' he says.
'Ye're all livin' here undher assumed names';
an' he wint out, followed be Morgan Dooley
with a chair in each hand.
"Well, they wasn't two Dooleys in th'
hall'd speak whin th' meetin' broke up; an'
th' Lord knows; but I don't to this day,
who's th' head iv th' Dooley fam'ly. All I
know is that I had wan th' nex' mornin'."



ON A FAMOUS WEDDING.

"< YE see, Jawn," he said "'twas this way:
The Jook iv Marlburrow is a young lad an'
poor. Ye can't think of a jook bein' poor,
but 'tis a fact that they'se many a wan iv
thim that's carryin' th' banner at this minyit. Hinnissy, if he had his rights, is Jook
iv Munster; an' ye know what he's got.
The Jook iv Marlburrow, whin he come
out iv th' academy where they had him, he
hadn't a cint to his name. Ne'er a wan.
" They ain't manny jobs f'r a young
jook. Th' thrade is limited; an' this here
la-ad wint round night an' day lookin' f'r a
sign, 'Wanted, a young jook, r-ready an'
willin' to do light family jookin',' an' no
sign did he see. He was in a bad way; f'r
the la-ad's father was dead, th' ol' jook.
He was a fine bucko. He had a divorce
fr'm his wife, an' marrid another; an', whin
he died, she marrid somewan else an' took
the roly-boly with her. This was ha-ard on
th' lad.



ON A FAMOUS WEDDING 209
cC But he come iv a noble race, an' wan
that had reed burruds whin their betthers
had snowballs. Did ye iver read histhry,
Jawn? Ye ought to. 'Tis betther thin th'
Polis Gazette, an' near as thrue. Well, Jawn,
this here young man come fr'm a gr-eat
gin'ral, a fine-lookin' la-ad that had manny
a mash in his day, an' niver lost money be
wan iv thim. Ye'll find all about him in
Casey's ' Histhry iv English Misrule in Ireland: Th' Story iv a Crime.' 'Tis good
readin'.
"Th' la-ad's father marrid a rich woman.
So did his uncle. So ye see he was a natural
bor-rn fi-nanceer.  An' he begun to luk
around him f'r what th' pa-apers calls a
Sfinancee.'
" He didn't have far to go. I dinnaw how
he done it, whether th' Ganderbilks asked
him 'r he asked th' Ganderbilks. Annyhow,
'twas arranged. 'Twas horse an' horse between thim. Th' Ganderbilks had money,
an' he was a jook. They was wan divorce
on each side. So they imported him over,



210

MR. DOOLEY

what they call assisted immygration. He
didn't come undher th' head iv skilled workman. They must've classed him as a domestic servant. Th' first thing he done was
to get himsilf arristed. A man be th' name
iv Sweeney,--there are some good Sweeneys, though it's a name I don't like on account iv wan iv thim stealin' me fa-ather's
grin'stone,- a man be th' name iv Sweeney,
a polisman, r-run him in f'r disordherly
conduct. They got him out with a pull.
Thin he sint f'r lawyers an' f'r his financee's father, an' they settled down to talk
business.  ' Well,' says Ganderbilk, 'how
much d'ye want?' he says. 'I'll give ye a
millyon.' ' Goowan,' says th' jook, ' I cud
get that much marryin' somewan I knew.'
' Thin how much d'ye want?' says Ganderbilk. 'Well,' says th' jook, 'th' castle has
to be put in repair. Th' plumbin' is all gone
to th' divvle, an' they'll have to be a new
catch-basin put in,' he says. ' Thin they'se
calciminin' an' paper-hangin',- well, call it
tin millyons.' ' But what do I get out iv



ON A FAMOUS WEDDING 211
it?' says Ganderbilk. ' Have ye a ticket to
th' church to see me marrid?' says th' jook.
c No,' says his pappa-in-law. 'Well, here's
a couple,' says th' jook. ' Bring wan iv ye'er
frinds with ye.' So Ganderbilk he coughed.
They say th' jook was that poor he had
to have his coat made out iv what was left
over fr'm his pants, they do so. But he was
at th' church bright an' early; an' Ganderbilk he was there, too, standin' out on th'
steps in th' cold, combin' his whiskers--
he wears a pair iv sluggers -with his fingers. Afther awhile his daughter, the jook's
financee, come along; an', seein' the jook,
says she, ' Pappa,' she says, 'inthrojooce me
to ye'er frind.'  ' Jook,' says Ganderbilk,
'shake hands with me daughther.     She's
your's,' he says. An' so they were marrid.
"Well, Jawn," said Mr. Dooley, becoming serious, " 'tis a dhroll wurruld, an' I suppose we've got to take th' jooks an' th'
Ganderbilks with the r-rest. I'm goin' to a
weddin' mesilf nex' week. Th' banns has
been called between little Dalia Hogan an'



212         MR. DOOLEY
big Tom Moran. They've been engaged
f'r three year, her wurrkin' in a box facthry
an' him doin' overtime at th' blast. They've
money enough to start, an' it'll not cost ol'
ma-an Hogan a cint. But, whin he spoke
about it las' night, he cried as if his heart'd
break."



ON A QUARREL BETWEEN ENGLAND AND GERMANY.
MR. MCKENNA was aware that a gentle
feud had existed between Mr. Dooley and
Mr. Schwartzmeister, the German saloonkeeper down Archey Road, for some years.
It was based upon racial differences, but had
been accented when Mr. Schwartzmeister
put in a pool table. Of course there was
no outburst. When the two met on the
street, Mr. Dooley saluted his neighbor cordially, in these terms: " Good-nobben, Hair
Schwartzmeister, an' vas magst too yet, me
brave bucko!"  To which Mr. Schwartzmeister invariably retorted: "cc Py chapers,
Tooley, where you haf been all der time,
py chapers? " But this was mere etiquette.
In the publicity of their own taverns they
entertained no great regard for each other.
Mr. Schwartzmeister said a friend of his had
been poisoned by Mr. Dooley's beer, and
Mr. Dooley confessed that he would rather
go to a harness-shop for whiskey than to



214          MR. DOOLEY
Mr. Schwartzmeister's. Consequently, Mr.
McKenna was amazed to learn that Mr.
Schwartzmeister had been entertained by the
philosopher, and that they   had paraded
Archey Road arm-in-arm at a late hour.
"Tubby sure he was," said Mr. Dooley.
"Tubby sure he was. Right where ye're
standin' at this moment, me dhrinkin' beer
an' him callin' f'r hot Irish. ' Make it
hot,' he says. ' Make it hot, me frind; an'
we'll make it hot f'r th' British between us,
says Schwartzmeister.
" It come about this way: Ye see Willum
Joyce come in, an' says he, 'We've got
thim.' ' Sure,' says I. ' We've the comityman, haven't we?' 'Th' Dutch is with us,'
he says.   'I mane the Germans is our
frinds.' 'Ye're goin' too far there,' says I.
'Stuckart was again    Reed   las' spring.'
'No, no,' says Willum     Joyce, he says.
'Th' Germans is up in ar-rms again th'
Sassenach,' he says.  ' Mind ye,' he says,
' mind ye,' he says, 'tis our jooty to be
frindly with th' Germans,' he says. 'I'm



ON ENGLAND AND GERMANY 215
now on me way f'r to organ-ize a camp iv
me Dutch frinds down be th' slough,' he
says. An' off he goes,
cc 'Twas not long afther whin I heerd a
man singin' 'Th' Wearin' iv th' Green'
down th' sthreet, an' in come Schwartzmeister. ' Faugh a ballagh,' says he, meanin'
to be polite.   c Lieb vaterland,' says I.
An' we had a dhrink together.
"' Vell,' says he (ye know th' murdhrin'
way he has iv speakin'),' here we are,' he
says,' frinds at las'.' 'Thrue f'r ye,' says I.
STooley,' he says, f'r he calls me that,
' we're wan to-night, alretty,' he says. 'We
are that,' says I. ' But, glory be, who iver
thought th' Irish'd live to see th' day whin
they'd be freed be th' Dutch?    Schwartz,
me lieber frind,' I says, ' here's a health to
th' imp'ror, hock,' says I. 'Slanthu,' says
he; an' we had wan.
" ''Twud be a great combination,' says I.
'We'd carry th' wa-ard be th' biggest majority iver heerd iv,' I says. ' We wud so,'
says he. ' I'd be aldherman.' ' Afther me,'



216

MR. DOOLEY

says I.   ''Tis my turn first,' I says.     I
don't know   about that,' says he.    'Now,'
says I, 'look here, Schwartzmeister,' I says.
cThis here arrangement between Germany
an' Ireland has got to be brought down
to th' Sixth Wa-ard,' I says. 'c Do ye f'rgive
th' way we done ye in th' beer rites?' I says.
c I do,' says he.  ' They was befure me time.'
'Well,' says I, ' are ye sure ye can get over
th' whalin' ye got whin th' Sarsfield Fife an'
Dhrum Corpse met th' Frederick Willum
Picnic Band?' I says.     CI do,' says he.
'c An' ye have no har-rd feelin' about th' way
th' bridges has been give out?' ' Not a
thrace,' says he. 'c Well,' says I, 'Schwartz,'
I says, 'they'se wan thing more,' I says.
'c We're both pathrites,' I says. c We have a
common cause,' I says.      'Ye're a Dutchman, an' I'm iv' th' other sort,' I says.  ' But
we're both again th' Sassenach,' I says. c An'
in th' inthrests iv th' freedom iv Ireland,' I
says, ' I f'rgive ye th' pool table.'
"Well, sir, Jawn, he wept like a child.
c Tooley,' he says, 'we'll march side be side,'



ON ENGLAND AND GERMANY 217
he says. ' Both iv us in th' front rank,' he
says.  Aldherman Tooley an' Aldherman
Schwartzmeister, to free Ireland,' he says.
' But where does Germany come in?' he says.
' Germany!' says I, ' Germany! Well, we'll
take care iv Germany, all right. We'll let
Germans into th' prim'ries,' I says. An'
there an' thin we formed th' Sarsfield-an'Gatty camp. Gatty is a German frind iv
Schwartzmeister. We shook dice to see
which name'd come first.    Ireland won.
They was my dice.
" I learned Schwartzmeister th' Shan-vanVoght befure we was through; an' I've got
th' German naytional chune be heart,-' Ich
vice nit wauss allus bay doitan'. What'll
ye have to drink, Jawn? "
And, as Mr. McKenna went out, he heard
his friend muttering: "Freed be th' Dutch!
Freed be the Dutch! An' we niver give
thim so much as a dillygate."



ON   ORATORY IN       POLITICS.
SI MIND th' first time Willum J. O'Brien
r-run f'r office, th' Raypublicans an' th'
Indypindants an' th' Socialists an' th' Prohybitionist (he's dead now, his name was Larkin) nommynated a young man be th' name
iv Dorgan that was in th' law business in
Halsted Sthreet, near Cologne, to r-run
again' him. Smith O'Brien Dorgan was his
name, an' he was wan iv th' most iloquint
young la-ads that iver made a speakin'
thrumpet iv his face. He cud holler like
th' impire iv a base-ball game; an', whin he
delivered th' sintimints iv his hear-rt, ye'd
think he was thryin' to confide thim to a
man on top iv a high buildin'. He was
prisidint iv th' lithry club at th' church;
an' Father Kelly tol' me that, th' day afther
he won th' debate on th' pen an' th' soord
in favor iv th' pen, they had to hire a carpenter to mend th' windows, they'd sagged
so. They called him th' boy or-rator iv
Healey's slough.



ON ORATORY IN POLITICS 219
" He planned th' campaign himsilf.   I'll
not re-sort,' says he, ' to th' ordin'ry methods,' he says. ' Th' thing to do,' he says,
'is to prisint th' issues iv th' day to th'
voters,' he says. 'I'll burn up ivry precin't
in th' ward with me iloquince,' he says.
An' he bought a long black coat, an' wint
out to spread th' light.
"He talked     ivrywhere.   Th' people
jammed Finucane's Hall, an' he tol' thim
th' time had come f'r th' masses to r-rise.
'Raymimber,' says he, 'th' idees iv Novimb'r,' he says. 'Raymimber Demosthens
an' Cicero an' Oak Park,' he says. ' Raymimber th' thraditions iv ye'er fathers, iv
Washin'ton an' Jefferson an' Andhrew Jackson an' John L. Sullivan,' he says. 'Ye
shall not, Billy O'Brien,' he says, 'crucify th'
voters iv th' Sixth Ward on th' double cross,'
he says. He spoke to a meetin' in Deerin'
Sthreet in th' same wuruds. He had th'
sthreet-car stopped while he coughed up reemarks about th' Constitution until th' bar-rn
boss sint down an' threatened to discharge



220          MR. DOOLEY
Mike Dwyer that was dhrivin' wan hundherd an' eight in thim days, though thransferred to Wintworth Avnoo later on. He
made speeches to polismin in th' squadroom
an' to good la-ads hoistin' mud out iv th'
dhraw at th' red bridge. People'd be settin'
quite in th' back room playin' forty-fives
whin Smith O'Brien Dorgan'd burst in, an'
addhress thim on th' issues iv th' day.
" Now all this time Bill O'Brien was
campaignin' in his own way. He niver med
wan speech. No wan knew whether he was
f'r a tariff or again wan, or whether he
sthud be Jefferson or was knockin' him, or
whether he had th' inthrests iv th' toilin'
masses at hear-rt or whether he wint to mass
at all, at all. But he got th' superintindint
iv th' rollin'-mills with him; an' he put
three or four good faml'ies to wurruk in th'
gas-house, where he knew th' main guy, an'
he made reg'lar calls on th' bar-rn boss iv
th' sthreet-ca-ars. He wint to th' picnics,
an' hired th' or-chesthry f'r th' dances, an'
voted himsilf th' most pop'lar man at th'



ON ORATORY IN POLITICS 221
church fair at an expinse iv at laste five
hundherd dollars. No wan that come near
him wanted f'r money. He had headquarthers in ivry saloon fr'm wan end iv th'
ward to th' other. All th' pa-apers printed
his pitcher, an' sthud by him as th' frind iv
th' poor.
"Well, people liked to hear Dorgan at
first, but afther a few months they got onaisy. He had a way iv breakin' into festive
gatherin's that was enough to thry a saint.
He delayed wan prize fight two hours, encouragin' th' voters prisint to stand be their
principles, while th' principles sat shiverin' in
their cor-rners until th' polis r-run him out.
It got so that men'd bound into alleys whin
he come up th' sthreet. People in th' liquor
business rayfused to let him come into their
places. His fam'ly et in th' coal-shed f'r
fear iv his speeches at supper. He wint on
talkin', and Willum J. O'Brien wint on
handin' out th' dough that he got fr'm th'
gas company an' con-ciliatin' th' masses; an',
whin iliction day come, th' judges an' clerks



222          MR. DOOLEY
was all f'r O'Brien, an' Dorgan didn't get
votes enough to wad a gun. He sat up near
all night in his long coat, makin' speeches to
himsilf; but tord mornin' he come over to
my place where O'Brien sat with his la-ads.
'Well,' says O'Brien, c how does it suit ye?'
he says. 'It's sthrange,' says Dorgan.  Not
sthrange at all,' says Willum J. O'Brien.
' Whin ye've been in politics as long as I
have, ye'll know,' he says, 'that th' rolyboly is th' gr-reatest or-rator on earth,' he
says. 'Th' American nation in th' Sixth
Ward is a fine people,' he says. 'They love
th' eagle,' he says, 'on th' back iv a dollar,'
he says. 'Well,' says Dorgan, ' I can't undherstand it,' he says. 'I med as manny as
three thousan' speeches,' he says. 'Well,'
says Willum J. O'Brien,' that was my majority,' he says.   'Have a dhrink,' he
says.



ON CHRISTMAS GIFTS.

THE approach of Christmas is heralded in
Archey Road by many of the signs that are
known to the less civilized and more prosperous parts of the city. The people look
poorer, colder, and more hopeful than at
other times. The bakeries assume an old
country appearance of gayety. The saloons
are well filled. Also, if you have your eyes
about you, you may catch a glimpse, now
and then, through a frosted window-pane of
a stunted Christmas tree, laden slenderly with
glass balls and ropes of red popcorn, the
work of painful hands after the childher are
abed. Mr. Dooley knew Christmas was
coming by the calendar, the expiration of his
quarterly license, and Mr. Hennessy coming
in with a doll in his pocket and a rockingchair under his arm.
c Prisints? " said the philosopher.
" Yis," said Mr. Hennessy. " I had to
do it. I med up me mind this year that I
wudden't buy anny Chris'mas prisints or



224         MR. DOOLEY
take anny. I can't afford it. Times has
been fearful ha-ard, an' a look iv pain comes
over th' ol' woman's face whin I hold out
fifty cints fr'm me salary on Saturdah night.
I give it out that I didn't want annything,
but they'se so much scurryin' ar-round an'
hidin' things whin I go in that I know
they've got something f'r me. I cudden't
stand it no longer, so I wint down town tonight, down be Shekel an' Whooper's place,
an' bought these things. This is a fine doll
f'r th' money."
" It is," said Mr. Dooley, taking the
doll and examining it with the eye of an art
critic. " It closes its eyes,- yis, an', bedad,
it cries if ye punch it. They're makin' these
things more like human bein's ivry year.
An' does it say pap-pah an' mam-mah, I
dinnaw?"
" No," said Mr. Hennessy, " th' pap-pah
an' mam-mah dolls costs too much."
C Well," continued  Mr. Dooley, "we
can't have ivrything we want in this wurruld.
If I had me way, I'd buy goold watches an'



ON   CHRISTMAS GIFTS           225
chains f'r ivrybody in th' r-road, an' a few
iv th' good Germans. I feel that gin'rous.
But 'tis no use. Ye can't give what ye want.
Ivry little boy ixpects a pony at Chris'mas,
an' ivry little girl a chain an' locket; an'
ivry man thinks he's sure goin' to get th'
gbold-headed cane he's longed f'r since he
come over. But they all fin'lly land on
rockin'-horses an' dolls, an' suspindhers that
r-run pink flowers into their shirts an' tattoo
thim in summer. An' they conceal their
grief Chris'mas mornin' an' thry to look
pleasant with murdher in their hearts.
" Some wan has always give me a Chris'mas prisint, though no wan has anny r-right
to. But no wan iver give me annything I
cud wear or ate or dhrink or smoke or curl
me hair with.   I've had flasks iv whisky
give me,- me that have lashin's iv whisky
at me elbow day an' night; an', whin I
opined thim, blue an' yellow flames come out
an' some iv th' stuff r-run over on th' flure,
an' set fire to th' buildin'. I smoke th' best
five-cint see-gar that money can buy; yet,



226

MR. DOOLEY

whin  a good    frind  iv  mine wants to
make me a prisint f'r Chris'mas, he goes to a
harness shop an' buys a box iv see-gars with
excelsior fillin's an' burlap wrappers, an', if
I smoked wan an' lived, I'd be arristed f'r
arson. I got a pair iv suspinders wanst fr'm
a lady,- niver mind     her name,- an' I
wurruked hard that day; an' th' decorations
moved back into me, an' I had to take thim
out with pumice stone. I didn't lose th'
taste iv th' paint f'r weeks an' weeks.
" Wan year I wanted a watch more thin
annything in th' wurruld. I talked watches
to ivry wan that I thought had designs on
me. I made it a pint to ask me frinds what
time iv night it was, an' thin say, ' Dear me,
I ought to get a watch if I cud affoord it.'
I used to tout people down to th' jooler's
shop, an' stand be th' window with a hungry
look in th' eyes iv me, as much as to say,
'If I don't get a watch, I'll perish.' I talked
watches an' thought watches an' dhreamed
watches.   Father Kelly rebuked    me f'r
bein' late f'r mass. ' How can I get there



ON CHRISTMAS GIFTS            227
befure th' gospil, whin I don't know what
time it is?' says I. c Why don't ye luk at
ye'er watch?' he says. c I haven't none,'
says I. Did he give me a watch? Faith,
he did not. He sint me a box iv soap that
made me smell like a coon goin' to a ball in
a State Sthreet ca-ar. I got a necktie fr'm
wan man; an', if I wore it to a meetin' iv
th' Young   Hebrews' Char'table Society,
they'd've thrun me out. That man wanted
me to be kilt. Another la-ad sint me a silk
handkerchief that broke on me poor nose.
Th' nearest I got to a watch was a hair chain
that unravelled, an' made me look as if I'd
been curryin' a Shetland pony. I niver got
what I wanted, an I niver expect to. No
wan does."
" I'll get ye what ye want," said Mr. Hennessy, "if ye'll tell me what it is, an' it don't
cost too much."
"Will ye? " said Mr. Dooley, eagerly.
" I will," said Mr. Hennessy, "if 'tis
within me means."
"Ye're jokin'," said Mr. Dooley.



228         MR. DOOLEY
" I'm not. I mane it."
' Do ye, honest?"
( I do so."
"Thin," said Mr. Dooley, "get me th'
Audjitooroom. " I've wanted that to play
with f'r manny years."
And Mr. Hennessy went away with the
rocking-chair under his arm, the doll in his
pocket, and dumb anger in his heart



ON ANARCHISTS.

"'Tis ha-ard bein' a king these days,"
said Mr. Dooley. " Manny's th' man on a
throne wishes his father'd brought him up
a cooper, what with wages bein' docked be
parlymints an' ragin' arnychists r-runnin'
wild with dinnymite bombs undher their
ar-rms an' carvin'-knives in their pockets.
" Onaisy, as Hogan says, is th' head that
wears a crown. They'se other heads that're
onaisy, too; but ye don't hear iv thim. But
a man gr-rows up in wan iv thim furrin'
counthries, an' he's thrained f'r to be a king.
Hivin may've intinded him f'r a dooce or
a jack, at th' most; but he has to follow th'
same line as his father. 'Tis like pawnbrokin' that way.   Ye niver heerd iv a
pawnbroker's son   doin' annything   else.
Wanst a king, always a king. Other men's
sons may pack away a shirt in a thrunk, an'
go out into th' wurruld, brakin' on a freight
or ladin' Indyanny bankers up to a shell game.
But a man that's headed f'r a throne can't



230

MR. DOOLEY

r-run away. He's got to take th' job. If
he kicks, they blindfold him an' back him
in. He can't ask f'r his time at th' end iv
th' week, an' lave. He pays himsilf. He
can't sthrike, because he'd have to ordher
out th' polis to subjoo himsilf. He can't
go to th' boss, an' say: 'c Me hours is too
long an' th' wurruk is tajious. Give me me
pay-check.' He has no boss. A man can't
be indipindint onless he has a boss. 'Tis
thrue. So he takes th' place, an' th' chances
ar-re he's th' biggest omadhon in th'
wurruld, an' knows no more about r-runnin'
a counthry thin I know about ladin' an orchesthry. An', if he don't do annything,
he's a dummy, an', if he does do annything,
he's crazy; an,' whin he dies, his foreman
says: ' Sure, 'tis th' divvle's own time I had
savin' that bosthoon fr'm desthroyin' himsilf. If it wasn't f'r me, th' poor thing'd
have closed down the wurruks, an' gone to
th' far-rm long ago.' An' wan day, whin
he's takin' th' air, p'raps, along comes an
Eyetalyan, an' says he, ' Ar-re ye a king?'



ON ANARCHISTS

231

SThat's my name,' says his majesty. 'Betther
dead,' says th' Eyetalyan; an' they'se a
scramble, an' another king goes over th'
long r-road.
" I don't know much about arnychists.
We had thim    here -wanst.  They wint
again polismen, mostly. Mebbe that's because polismen's th' nearest things to kings
they cud find. But, annyhow, I sometimes
think I know why they're arnychists somewhere, an' why they ain't in other places.
It minds me iv what happened wanst in me
cousin Terence's fam'ly.  They was livin'
down near Healey's slough in wan iv thim ol'
Doherty's houses,- not Doherty that ye
know, th' j'iner, a good man whin he don't
dhrink. No, 'twas an ol' grouch iv a man
be th' name iv Malachi Doherty that used
to keep five-day notices in his thrunk, an'
ownded his own privit justice iv th' peace.
Me cousin Terence was as dacint a man as
iver shoed a hor-rse; an his wife was a good
woman, too, though I niver took much to
th' Dolans. Fr'm Tipperary, they was, an'



232         MR. DOOLEY
too handy throwin' things at ye. An' he had
a nice fam'ly growin' up, an' I niver knowed
people that lived together more quite an'
amyable. 'Twas good f'r to see thim settin'
ar-roun' th' parlor,- Terence spellin' out th'
newspaper, an' his good woman mendin'
socks, an' Honoria playin' th' 'Vale iv
Avoca' on th' pianny, an' th' kids r-rowlin'
on th' flure.
" But wan day it happened that that whole
fam'ly begun to rasp on wan another. Honoria'd set down at th' pianny, an' th' ol' man'd
growl: 'F'r th' love iv th' saints, close down
that hurdy-gurdy, an' lave a man injye his
headache!' An' th' good woman scolded
Terence, an' th' kids pulled th' leg fr'm
undher th' stove; an', whin th' big boy Mike
come home fr'm Omaha, he found none iv
thim speakin' to th' others. He cud do
nawthin', an' he wint f'r Father Kelly.
Father Kelly sniffed th' air whin he come
in; an' says he,'Terence, what's th' matther
with ye'er catch basin?' 'I dinnaw,' growled
Terence. 'Well,' says Father Kelly, 'ye



ON ANARCHISTS                233
put on ye'er hat this minyit, an' go out f'r a
plumber,' he says. c I'm not needed here,'
he says. 'Ye'er sowls ar-re all r-right,' he
says; 'but ye'er systems ar-re out iv ordher,'
he says. 'Fetch in a plumber,' he says,
'whilst I goes down to Doherty, an' make
him think his lease on th' hereafther is
defective,' he says."
"Ye're right," said Mr. Hennessy, who
had followed the argument dimly.
" Iv coorse I'm right," said Mr. Dooley.
"What they need over there in furrin' counthries is not a priest, but a plumber. 'Tis
no good prayin' again arnychists, Hinnissy.
Arnychists is sewer gas."



ON THE DREYFUS CASE.

" I SEE be th' pa-apers," said Mr. Dooley,
( that Col. Hinnery, th' man that sint me
frind Cap. Dhry-fuss to th' cage, has moved
on. I sup-pose they'll give th' Cap a new
thrile now."
"I hope they won't," said Mr. Hennessy.
" I don't know annything about it, but I
think he's guilty. He's a Jew."
"Well," said Mr. Dooley, "ye'er thoughts
on this subject is inthrestin', but not conclusive, as Dorsey said to th' Pollack that
thought he cud lick him. Ye have a r-right
to ye'er opinyon, an' ye'll hold it annyhow,
whether ye have a r-right to it or not. Like
most iv ye'er fellow-citizens, ye start impartial. Ye don't know annything about th'
case. If ye knew annything, ye'd not have
an opinyon wan way or th' other. They'se
niver been a matther come up in my time
that th' American people was so sure about
as they ar-re about th' Dhryfuss case. Th'
Frinch ar-re not so sure, but they'se not a



ON THE DREYFUS CASE 235
polisman in this counthry that can't tell ye
jus' where Dhry-fuss was whin th' remains iv
th' poor girl was found. That's because th'
thrile was secret. If 'twas an open thrile, an'
ye heerd th' tisti-mony, an' knew th' language,
an' saw th' safe afther 'twas blown open,
ye'd be puzzled, an' not care a rush whether
Dhry-fuss was naked in a cage or takin' tay
with his uncle at th' Benny Brith Club.
"I haven't made up me mind whether th'
Cap done th' shootin' or not. He was certainly in th' neighborhood whin th' fire
started, an' th' polis dug up quite a lot iv
lead pipe in his back yard. But it's wan
thing to sus-pect a man iv doin' a job an'
another thing to prove that he didn't. Me
frind  Zola thinks he's innocint, an' he
raised th' divvle at th' thrile. Whin th'
judge come up on th' bench an' opined th'
coort, Zola was settin' down below with th'
lawyers. ' Let us pro-ceed,' says th' impartial an' fair-minded judge, 'to th' thrile iv
th' haynious monsther Cap Dhry-fuss,' he
says.  Up jumps Zola, an' says he in



236            MR. DOOLEY
Frinch: 'Jackuse,' he says, which is a hell
of a mane thing to say to anny man. An'
they thrun him out. ' Judge,' says th' attorney f'r th' difinse, c an' gintlemen iv th'
jury,' he says. 'c Ye're a liar,' says th' judge.
' Cap, ye're guilty, an' ye know it,' he says.
STh' decision iv th' coort is that ye be put
in a cage, an' sint to th' Divvle's own island
f'r th' r-rest iv ye'er life,' he says. ' Let us
pro-ceed to hearin' th' tisti-mony,' he says.
SCall all th' witnesses at wanst,' he says,
San' lave thim have it out on th' flure,' he
says. Be this time Zola has come back; an'
he jumps up, an', says he, 'Jackuse,' he
says. An' they thrun him out.
"' Befure we go anny farther,' says th'
lawyer f'r th' difinse, ' I wish to sarve notice
that, whin this thrile is over, I intind,' he
says, 'to wait outside,' he says, ' an' hammer
th' hon'rable coort into an omelet,' he says.
'With these few remarks I will close,' he
says.   ' Th' coort,' says th' judge, 'is always
r-ready to defind th' honor iv France,' he
says; c an', if th' lamed counsel will con-sint,'



ON THE DREYFUS CASE 237
he says, 'to step up here f'r a minyit,' he
says, c th' coortll put a sthrangle hold on him
that'll not do him a bit iv good,' he says.
'Ah!' he says. 'Here's me ol' frind Pat
th' Clam,' he says. ' Pat, what d'ye know
about this case?' he says. 'None iv ye'er
business,' says Pat. ' Answered like a man
an' a sojer,' says th' coort. 'Jackuse,' says
Zola fr'm th' dureway. An' they thrun
him  out. 'Call Col. Hinnery,' says th'
coort. ' He ray-fuses to answer.' ' Good.
Th' case is clear.  Cap forged th' will. Th'
coort will now   adjourn f'r dools, an' all
ladin' officers iv th' ar-rmy not in disgrace
already will assimble in jail, an' com-mit
suicide,' he says. c Jackuse,' says Zola, an'
started f'r th' woods, pursued be his felloweditors.  He's off somewhere in a three
now   hollerin' Jackuse' at ivry wan that
passes, sufferin' martyrdom f'r his counthry
an' writin' now an' thin about it all.
" That's all I know about Cap Dhry-fuss'
case, an' that's all anny man knows. Ye
didn't know as much, Hinnissy, till I told



238         MR. DOOLEY
ye. I don't know whether Cap stole th'
dog or not."
"What's he charged with?" Mr. Hennessy asked, in bewilderment.
"I'll niver tell ye," said Mr. Dooley.
"It's too much to ask."
"Well, annyhow," said Mr. Hennessy,
"he's guilty, ye can bet on that."



ON THE DECADENCE OF
GREECE.
"THAT young Hogan is a smart la-ad,"
said Mr. Dooley. "A smart la-ad an' a
good wan, too."
"None betther," said Mr. Hennessy.
"None betther in th' ward," said Mr.
Dooley, which was a high appreciation.
"But there ar-re things about human nature
an' histhry that ain't taught at Saint Ignateeus'. I tell thim to Hogan's la-ad.
"He was walkin' be th' store wan day
las' week, an' I ast him how th' wa-ar wint.
'Tis sthrange, with churches two in a block,
an' public schools as thick as lamp-posts,
that, whin a man stops ye on th' sthreet, he'll
ayether ast ye th' scoor iv th' base-ball game
or talk iv th' Greek war with ye. I ain't
seen annything that happened since Parnell's day that's aroused so much enthusyasm
on th' Ar-rchey Road as th' Greek war.
'How goes th' war?' says I to young
Hogan. 'How goes the war between th'



240

MR. DOOLEY

ac-cursed infidel an' th' dog iv a Christian?'
I says.     It goes bad,' he says.     'Th'
Greeks won a thremenjous battle, killin'
manny millions iv' th' Moslem murdherers,
but was obliged to retreat thirty-two miles
in a gallop.' 'Is that so?' says I. c Sure
that seems to be their luck,' I says. ' Whiniver they win, they lose; an', whin they lose,
they lose,' I says.   c What ails thim?' I
says. ' Is th' riferee again thim?' 'I can't
make it out,' he says, while a tear sthud in
his eye. 'Whin I think iv Leonidas at th'
pass iv Thermometer,' he says, C an' So-an'so on th' field iv Marathon an' This-or-that
th' Spartan hero,' he says, I cannot undherstand f'r th' life iv me why th' Greeks shud
have been dhruv fr'm pillar to post be an
ar-rmy iv slaves.    Didn't Leonidas, with
hardly as manny men as there are Raypublicans in this precint, hold th' pass again a
savage horde?' he says. 'He did,' says I.
c He did.' c An' didn't What's-his-name on
th' field iv Marathon overcome an' desthroy
th' ravagin' armies iv Persia?' he says.



ON GREECE

241

'Thrue f'r ye,' says I. 'There's no doubt
in th' wurruld about it,' I says. 'An' look
at Alexander th' Great,' he says.    'Aleck
was a turror, an' no mistake,' says I. c An'
Miltiades,' he says.  'I on'y know what I
hear iv him,' says I. 'But fr'm all accounts
he must have been consid'rable iv a fellow,'
says I.  An' in later days Marco Boozaris,'
he says. 'He was th' man that come in
con-sumption's dreaded form,' says I, 'an'
he was afraid iv no man.' 'Well, thin,' says
he, 'how ar-re we to account f'r this disgrace?' he says.
"' Well,' says I, 'd'ye raymimber      th'
fightin' tenth precint? Ye must've heerd
ye'er father tell about it. It was famous f'r
th' quality an' quantity iv th' warfare put up
in it. Ivry man in th' tenth precint cud
fight his weight in scrap-iron. Most iv thim
come fr'm th' ancient Hellenic province iv
May-o; but they was a fair sprinklin' iv
Greek heroes fr'm Roscommon an' Tipperary, an' a few from th' historic spot where th'
Head iv Kinsale looks out on th' sea, an' th'



242          MR. DOOLEY
sea looks up at th' Head iv Kinsale. Th'
little boys cud box befure they was out iv
skirts. Far an' wide, th' tenth precint was
th' turror iv its inimies. Ye talk about Leonidas an' th' pass iv Thermometer. Ye
ought to've seen Mike Riordan an' his
fam'ly defindin' th' pollin'-place whin Eddie
Burke's brigade charged it wan fine day.
That hero sthud f'r four hours in th' dureway, ar-rmed on'y with a monkey-wrinch,
an' built a wall iv invaders in frint iv him till
th' judges cud dig their way out through th'
cellar, an' escape to th' polis station.
"' F'r manny years th' tenth precint was
th' banner precint iv th' Sixth Wa-ard, an'
its gallant heroes repelled all attacks by land
or Healey's slough. But, as time wint by,
changes come over it. Th' Hannigans an'
Leonidases an' Caseys moved out, havin'
made their pile. Some iv th' grandest iv th'
heroes died, an' their fam'lies were broke up.
Polish Jews an' Swedes an' Germans an'
Hollanders swarmed in, settlin' down on th'
sacred sites,' I says. 'Wan night three years



ON GREECE                 243
ago, a band iv rovin' Bohemians fr'm th'
Eighth Ward come acrost th' river, kickin'
over bar'ls an' ash-boxes, an' swooped down
on th' tenth precint. Mike Riordan, him
that kept th' pollin'-place in th' good days
iv old, was th' on'y wan iv th' race iv ancient
heroes on earth. He thried to rally th' ingloryous descindants iv a proud people. F'r
a while they made a stand in Halsted Sthreet,
an' shouted bad but difficult names at th'
infidel hordes, an' threw bricks that laid out
their own people. But it was on'y f'r a moment. In another they tur-rned an' r-run,
lavin' Mike Riordan standin' alone in th'
mist iv th' fray. If it wasn't f'r th' intervintion iv th' powers in th' shape iv th' loot
an' a wagon-load iv polismin, th' Bohemians'd have devastated as far as th' ruins iv
th' gas-house, which is th' same as that there
Acropulist ye talk about,' says I.
cc C No, my son,' says I. c On account iv
th' fluctuations in rint an' throuble with th'
landlord it's not safe to presoom that th'
same fam'ly always lives in th' wan house.



244        MR. DOOLEY
Th' very thing happened to Greece that has
happened to th' tenth precint iv th' Sixth
Ward. Th' Greeks have moved out, an' th'
Swedes come in. Ye yet may live to see th'
day,' says I,' whin what is thrue iv Athens
an' th' tenth precint will be thrue iv th'
whole Sixth Wa-ard.' "
"Ye don't mean that," said Mr. Hennessy, gasping.
"I do," said Mr. Dooley, with solemnity.
" 'Tis histhry."



ON THE INDIAN WAR.

" GIN'RAL SHERMAN was wan iv th' smartest men we iver had," said Mr. Dooley.
"He said so manny bright things. 'Twas
him said, ' War is hell'; an' that's wan iv
th' finest sayin's I know annything about.
' War is hell': 'tis a thrue wurrud an' a fine
sintiment.   An' Gin'ral   Sherman   says,
'Th' on'y good Indyun is a dead Indyun.
An' that's a good sayin', too. So, be th'
powers, we've started in again to improve
th' race; an', if we can get in Gatlin' guns
enough befure th' winter's snows, we'll tur-rn
thim Chippeways into a cimitry branch iv
th' Young Men's Christyan     Association.
We will so.
"Ye see, Hinnissy, th' Indyun is bound
f'r to give way to th' onward march iv white
civilization. You an' me, Hinnissy, is th'
white civilization. I come along, an' I find
ol' Snakes-in-his-Gaiters livin' quite an' dacint in a new frame house. Thinks I, 'Tis
a shame f'r to lave this savage man in pos


246

MR. DOOLEY

session iv this fine abode, an' him not able
f'r to vote an' without a frind on th' polis
foorce.'  So says I: 'Snakes,' I says, get
along,' says I.   'I want ye'er house, an' ye
best move out west iv th' thracks, an' dig a
hole f'r ye'ersilf,' I says. ' Divvle th' fut
I will step out iv this house,' says Snakes.
'I built it, an' I have th' law on me side,' he
says. ' F'r why should I take Mary Ann,
an' Terence, an' Honoria, an' Robert Immitt
Snakes, an' all me little Snakeses, an' rustle
out west iv th' thracks,' he says, 'far fr'm
th' bones iv me ancestors,' he says,' an beyond   th' water-pipe    extinsion,' he   says.
'Because,' says I, I am    th' walkin' dilygate
iv white civilization,' I says.  'I'm jus' as
civilized as you,' says Snakes.       'I wear
pants,' he says, 'an' a plug hat,' he says.
'Ye might wear tin pair,' says I, 'an' all at
wanst,' I says,' an' ye'd still be a savage,'
says I; 'an' I'd be civilized,' I says, 'if I
hadn't on so much as a bangle bracelet,' I
says.  ' So get out,' says I.   'So get out,'
says I, ' f'r th' pianny movers is outside,
r-ready to go to wurruk,' I says.



ON THE INDIAN WAR 247
"Well, Snakes he fires a stove lid at me;
an' I go down to th' polls station, an' says I,
' Loot,' I says, ' they'se a dhrunken Indyun
not votin' up near th' mills, an he's carryin'
on outrageous, an' he won't let me hang me
pitchers on his wall,' says I. c Vile savage,'
says th' loot, c I'll tache him to rayspict th'
rules iv civilization,' he says. An' he takes
out a wagon load, an' goes afther Snakes.
Well, me frind Snakes gives him battle, an',
knowin' th' premises well, he's able to put
up a gr-reat fight; but afther a while they rip
him away, an' have him in th' pathrol wagon,
with a man settin' on his head. An' thin
he's put undher bonds to keep the peace,
an' they sind him out west iv th' thracks;
an' I move into th' house, an' tear out th'
front an' start a faro bank. Some day, whin
I get tired or th' Swedes dhrive me out or
Schwartzmeister makes his lunch too sthrong
f'r competition, I'll go afther Snakes again.
"Th' on'y hope f'r th Indyun is to put
his house on rollers, an' keep a team hitched
to it, an', whin he sees a white man, to start



248

MR. DOOLEY

f'r th' settin' sun. He's rooned whin he
has a cellar. He ought to put all th'
plugged dollars that he gets from th' agent
an' be pickin' blueberries into rowlin' stock.
If he knew annything about balloons, he'd
have a chanst; but we white men, Hinnissy,
has all th' balloons. But, annyhow, he's
doomed, as Hogan says. Th' onward march
iv th' white civilization, with morgedges an'
other modhern improvements, is slowly but
surely, as Hogan says, chasin' him out; an'
th' last iv him'll be livin' in a divin'-bell
somewhere out in th' Pac-ific Ocean."
"Well," said Mr. Hennessy, the stout
philanthropist, " I think so, an' thin again
I dinnaw. I don't think we threat thim
r-right. If I was th' gover'mint, I'd take
what they got, but I'd say, c Here, take
this tin-dollar bill an' go out an' dhrink
ye'ersilf to death,' I'd say. They ought to
have some show."
" Well," said Mr. Dooley, "if ye feel
that way, ye ought to go an' inlist as an
Indyun."



ON GOLF.

"AN' what's this game iv goluf like, I
dinnaw?" said Mr. Hennessy, lighting his
pipe with much unnecessary noise. "Ye're
a good deal iv a spoort, Jawnny: did ye iver
thry it?"
" No," said Mr. McKenna. " I used to
roll a hoop onct upon a time, but I'm out
of condition now."
" It ain't like base-ball," said Mr. Hennessy, "an' it ain't like shinny, an' it ain't
like lawn-teenis, an' it ain't like forty-fives,
an' it ain't "" Like canvas-back duck or anny other
game ye know," said Mr. Dooley.
"Thin what is it like?" said Mr. Hennessy. "I see be th' pa-aper that Hobart
What-d'ye-call-him is wan iv th' best at it.
Th' other day he made a scoor iv wan hundherd an' sixty-eight, but whether 'twas
miles or stitches I cudden't make out fr'm
th' raypoorts."
"'Tis little ye know," said Mr. Dooley.



250         MR. DOOLEY
c Th' game iv goluf is as old as th' hills.
Me father had goluf links all over his place.
an', whin I was a kid, 'twas wan iv th' principal spoorts iv me life, afther I'd dug the
turf f'r th' avenin', to go out and putt" -
" Poot, ye mean," said Mr. Hennessy.
"They'se no such wurrud in th' English
language as putt. Belinda called me down
ha-ard on it no more thin las' night."
" There ye go! " said Mr. Dooley, angrily.
"There ye go! D'ye think this here game
iv goluf is a spellin' match? 'Tis like ye,
Hinnissy, to be refereein' a twinty-round
glove contest be th' rule iv three. I tell ye
I used to go out in th' avenin' an' putt me
mashie like hell-an'-all, till I was knowed
fr'm wan end iv th' county to th' other as
th' champeen putter. I putted two men fr'm
Roscommon in wan day, an' they had to be
took home on a dure.
" In America th' ga-ame is played more
ginteel, an' is more like cigareet-smokin',
though less onhealthy f'r th' lungs. 'Tis a
good game to play in a hammick whin



ON GOLF

251

ye're all tired out fr'm   social duties or
shovellin' coke. Out-iv-dure golf is played
be th' followin' rules. If ye bring ye'er
wife f'r to see th' game, an' she has her
name in th' paper, that counts ye wan. So
th' first thing ye do is to find th' raypoorter,
an' tell him ye're there. Thin ye ordher a
bottle iv brown pop, an' have ye'er second
fan  ye with a towel.     Afther this ye'd
dhress, an' here ye've got to be dam particklar or ye'll be stuck f'r th' dhrinks. If
ye'er necktie is not on sthraight, that counts
ye'er opponent wan. If both ye an' ye'er
opponent have ye'er neckties on crooked, th'
first man that sees it gets th' stakes. Thin
ye ordher a carredge"" Order what?" demanded Mr. McKenna.
" A carredge."
"What for?"
" F'r to take ye 'round th' links. Ye
have a little boy followin' ye, carryin' ye'er
clubs. Th' man that has th' smallest little
boy it counts him two. If th' little boy has
th' rickets, it counts th' man in th' carredge



252         MR. DOOLEY
three. The little boys is called caddies; but
Clarence Heaney that tol' me all this--he
belongs to th' Foorth Wa-ard Goluf an' McKinley Club - said what th' little boys calls
th' players'd not be fit f'r to repeat.
"Well, whin ye dhrive up to th' tea
grounds ""Th' what?" demanded Mr. Hennessy.
"Th' tea grounds, that's like th' homeplate in base-ball or ordherin' a piece iv chalk
in a game iv spoil five. Its th' be-ginnin' iv
ivrything. Whin ye get to th' tea grounds,
ye step out, an' have ye're hat irned be
th' caddie. Thin ye'er man that ye're goin'
aginst comes up, an' he asks ye, ' Do you
know Potther Pammer?' Well, if ye don't
know Potther Pammer, it's all up with ye
ye lose two points. But ye come right back
at him with an' upper cut: ' Do ye live on
th' Lake Shore dhrive?' If he doesn't, ye
have him in th' nine hole. Ye needn't play
with him anny more. But, if ye do play
with him, he has to spot three balls. If he's
a good man an' shifty on his feet, he'll



ON GOLF               253
counter be askin' ye where ye spend th'
summer. Now ye can't tell him that ye
spent th' summer with wan hook on th' free
lunch an' another on th' ticker tape, an' so
ye go back three. That needn't discourage
ye at all, at all. Here's yer chance to mix
up, an' ye ask him if he was iver in Scotland.
If he wasn't, it counts ye five. Thin ye tell
him that ye had an aunt wanst that heerd
th' Jook iv Argyle talk in a phonograph;
an,' onless he comes back an' shoots it into
ye that he was wanst run over be th' Prince
iv Wales, ye have him groggy. I don't
know whether th' Jook iv Argyle or th'
Prince iv Wales counts f'r most. They're
like th' right an' left bower iv thrumps.
Th' best players is called scratch-men."
"What's that f'r? " Mr. Hennessy asked.
"It's a Scotch game," said Mr. Dooley,
with a wave of his hand. " I wonder how
it come out to-day. Here's th' pa-aper.
Let me see. McKinley at Canton. Still
there. He niver cared to wandher fr'm his
own fireside. Collar-button men f'r th'



254         MR. DOOLEY
goold standard.  Statues iv  Heidelback,
Ickleheimer an' Company to be erected in
Washington. Another Vanderbilt weddin'.
That sounds like goluf, but it ain't. Newport society livin' in Mrs. Potther Pammer's
cellar. Green-goods men declare f'r honest
money. Anson in foorth place some more.
Pianny tuners f'r McKinley. Li Hung
Chang smells a rat. Abner McKinley supports th' goold standard.  Wait a minyit.
Here it is: ' Goluf in gay attire.' Let me
see. H'm. ' Foozled his aproach,'- nasty
thing. 'Topped th' ball.' 'Three up an'
two  to  play.'  Ah, here's the   scoor.
'Among those prisint were Messrs. an'
Mesdames ""Hol' on!" cried Mr. Hennessy, grabbing the paper out of his friend's hands.
" That's thim that was there."
"Well," said Mr. Dooley, decisively,
"that's th' goluf scoor."



ON THE FRENCH CHARACTER.
" TH' Fr-rinch," said Mr. Dooley, "ar-re
a tumulchuse people."
" Like as not," said Mr. Hennessy,
"there's some of our blood in thim. A
good manny iv our people wint over wanst.
They cudden't all've been kilt at Fontenoy."
"No," said Mr. Dooley, "'tis another
kind iv tumulchuse.   Whin an Irishman
rages, 'tis with wan idee in his mind. He's
goin' for'ard again a single inimy, an' not
stone walls or irne chains'll stop him. He
may pause f'r a dhrink or to take a shy at
a polisman,- f'r a polisman's always in th'
way,- but he's as thrue as th' needle in th'
camel's eye, as Hogan says, to th' objec' iv
his hathred. So he's been f'r four hundherd
years, an' so he'll always be while they'se an
England on th' map. Whin England purrishes, th' Irish'll die iv what Hogan calls
ongwee, which is havin' no wan in the weary
wurruld ye don't love.
" But with th' Fr-rinch 'tis diff'rent. I



256          MR. DOOLEY
say 'tis diffrent with th' Fr-rinch. They're
an onaisy an' a thrubbled people. They
start out down th' street, loaded up with
obscenthe an' cigareets, pavin' blocks an'
walkin' sthicks an' shtove lids in     their
hands, cryin', A  base Cap Dhry-fuss!' th'
cap bein' far off in a cage, by dad. So far,
so good. c A base Cap Dhry-fuss!' says I;
'an' the same to all thraitors, an' manny iv
thim, whether they ar-re or not.' But along
comes a man with a poor hat. 'Where did
he get th' hat?' demands th' mob. Down
with th' bad tile!' they say. 'A    base th'
lid!' An' they desthroy th' hat, an' th' man
undher it succumbs to th' rule iv th' majority an' jines th' mob. On they go till
they come to a restaurant. ' Ha,' says they,
' th' resort iv th' infamious Duclose.' ' His
char-rges ar-re high,' says wan. c I found
a fish-bone in    his soup,' says another.
' He's a thraitor,' says a third. ' A base th'
soup kitchen! A base th' caafe!' says they;
an' they seize th' unfortunate Duclose, an'
bate him an' upset his kettles iv broth.



THE FRENCH CHARACTER 257
Manetime where's Cap Dhry-fuss? Off in
his comfortable cage, swingin' on th' perch
an' atin' seed out iv a small bottle stuck in
th' wire. Be th' time th' mob has desthroyed what they see on th' way, they've
f'rgot th' Cap intirely; an' he's safe f'r
another day.
"'Tis unforch'nit, but 'tis thrue.    Th'
Fr-rinch ar-re not steady ayether in their
politics or their morals. That's where they
get done be th' hated British. Th' diff'rence in furrin' policies is the diff'rence
between a second-rate safe blower an' a firstclass boonco steerer. Th' Fr-rinch buy a ton
iv dinnymite, spind five years in dhrillin' a
hole through a steel dure, blow open th'
safe, lose a leg or an ar-rm, an' get away with
th' li'bilities iv th' firm. Th' English dhress
up f'r a Methodist preacher, stick a piece iv
lead pipe in th' tails iv their coat in case iv
emargency, an' get all th' money there is in
th' line.
c" In th' fr-ront dure comes th' Englishman with a coon king on ayether ar-rm that's



258

MR. DOOLEY

jus' loaned him their kingdoms on a prom'ssory note, and discovers th' Fr-rinchman
emargin' frim  th' roons iv th' safe.  'What
ar-re ye doin' here?' says th' Englishman.
'Robbin' th' naygurs,' says th' Fr-rinchman, bein' thruthful as well as polite.
'Wicked     man,'   says   th'  Englishman.
SWhat ar-re     ye  doin' here?' says the
Fr-rinchman.    'Improvin' the morals iv th'
inhabitants,' says th' Englishman.     'Is it
not so, Rastus?' he says.   ' It is,' says wan
iv th' kings. ' I'm a poorer but a betther
man since ye came,' he says. 'Yes,' says
th' Englishman, 'I pro-pose f'r to thruly
rayform this onhappy counthry,' he says.
SThis benighted haythen on me exthreme
left has been injooced to cut out a good dale
iv his wife's business,' he says, 'an' go
through life torminted be on'y wan spouse,'
he says.   ' Th' r-rest will go to wurruk f'r
me,' he says. ' All crap games bein' particular ongodly'll be undher th' con-throl iv
th' gover'mint, which,' he says, 'is me.
Policy shops'll be r-run carefully, an' I've



THE FRENCH CHARACTER 259
appinted Rastus here Writer-in-Waitin' to
her Majesty,' he says.
cc c Th' r-rum they dhrink in these par-rts,'
he says,   is fearful,' he says.  'What shall
we do to stop th' ac-cursed thraffic? Sell
thim gin,' says I. c 'Tis shameful they shud
go out with nawthin' to hide their nakedness,' he says.    'I'll fetch  thim  clothes;
but,' he says, ' as th' weather's too warrum
f'r clothes, I'll not sell thim     annything
that'll last long,' he says. 'c If it wasn't f'r
relligion,' he says, 'I don't know what th'
'ell th' wurruld wud come to,' he says.
c Who's relligion?' says th' Fr-rinchman.
' My relligion,' says th' Englishman. c These
pore, benighted savidges,' he says, c'11 not
be left to yer odjious morals an' yer hootchykootchy school iv thought,' he says, c but,'
he says, c undher th' binif'cint r-rule iv a
wise an' thrue gover'mint,' he says, c'11 be
thurly prepared f'r hivin,' he says, c 'whin
their time comes to go,' he says, ' which I
thrust will not be long,' he says. c So I'll
thank ye to be off,' he says, ' or I'll take th'
thick end iv the slung-shot to ye,' he says.



260         MR. DOOLEY
"Th' Fr-rinchman is a br-rave man, an'
he'd stay an' have it out on th' flure; but
some wan calls, ' A base th' Chinnyman!'
an' off he goes on another thrack. An',
whin he gets to th' Chinnymen, he finds th'
English've abased thim already. An' so he
dances fr'm wan par-rt th' wurruld to another like a riochous an' happy flea, an'
divvle th' bit iv progress he makes, on'y
thrubble f'r others an' a merry life f'r himsilf."
"If England wint to war with France,"
said Mr. Hennessy, suddenly, "I'd be f'r
France."
"So ye wud, Hinnissy. So ye wud,"
said Mr. Dooley. "An' I'm     not sayin'
that I wudden't f'aget that I'm an AngloSaxon long enough to take wan crack at th'
Prince iv Wales with a coupli' pin mesilf."