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What was I sayin'? Whin' th' twelfth day iv July come around an' th' Orangeys got ready to cillybrate th' day King Willum, with all his Gatlin' guns an' cannon, just barely sthud off Sarsfield an' his men that had on'y pikes an' brickbats an' billyard cues, th' good people was infuryated. I dinnaw who was th' mayor in thim days. He was niver ilicted again.

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 goold-watch-an'-chain jubilee, I may see some wan put it all over Fitz. "Oh, what things I've seen in me day an' Victorya's!

'Afther all, he says, 'an' undher all, 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. 'It's too bad, too bad. he says. 'Tell me, was Corbett much hurted? he says." "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."

"Well, whin th' day come f'r th' Orangeys to cillybrate th' time whin King Willum may th' divvle hould him! got a stand-off, an' 'twas no betther, Jawn, f'r th' Irish'd 've skinned him alive if th' poor ol' gaby iv an English king hadn't ducked What's that? Don't I know it? I have a book at home written be an impartial historyan, Pathrick Clancy Duffy, to prove it.

Hennessy. "Patrick's Day?" said Mr. Dooley. "Patrick's Day? It seems to me I've heard th' name befure. Oh, ye mane th' day th' low Irish that hasn't anny votes cillybrates th' birth iv their naytional saint, who was a Fr-rinchman." "Ye know what I mane," said Mr. Hennessy, with rising wrath. "Don't ye get gay with me now." "Well," said Mr. Dooley, "I may cillybrate it an' I may not.