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But suppose Thomas Jefferson was to come back here now an' say to himsilf: 'They'se a good dimmycrat up in Ar-rchy road an' I think I'll dhrop in on him an' talk over th' issues iv th' day. Well, maybe he cud r-ride his old gray mare up an' not be kilt be the throlley cars, an' maybe th' la-ads'd think he was crazy an' not murdher him f'r his clothes. An' maybe they wudden't.
Who was it that saved the Union, Jawn? Who was it? Who are th' frinds iv th' Irish? Who protecks th' poor wurrukin'man so that he'll have to go on wurrukin'? We do, Jawn. We Raypublicans, by dad. "They ain't a Dimmycrat fr'm wan end iv th' road to th' other. I just was over makin' a visit on Docherty, an' he'd took down th' picture iv Jackson an' Cleveland an' put up wan iv Grant an' Lincoln.
'Is ye'er name Hill? says th' la-ad. 'It is not, says Hinnissy. 'I tol' ye I'm a Dimmycrat; an', he says, 'I'll have no man call me out iv me name. Hinnissy was f'r rollin' him on th' flure there an' thin f'r an insult, but I flagged a polisman. 'Is ye'er name Sullivan? says I. 'It is, says he. 'Roscommon? says I, fr'm th' way he spoke. 'Sure ye're right, he says.
Th' frinds iv honest money had give thim all to Jawn P. Hopkins's la-ads. They're frinds iv honest money, whin they'se no other in sight. But I'd like to see anny goold-bug or opprissor iv th' people keep th' likes iv me an' Hinnissy out iv a convintion. We braced up to wan iv th' dures, an' a man stopped Hinnissy. 'Who ar-re ye? he says. "I am a Dimmycrat, says Hinnissy.
'He's a good speaker, says th' Iaway man. 'He is that, says Hinnissy; 'an' he was wan iv th' best waltzers that flung a foot at th' County Dimocracy picnic, he says. 'But will he make a good fight? says th' man. 'Will he? says Hinnissy. 'Will he make a good fight? he says. 'Dooley, he says, 'this here Dimmycrat wants to know if Bill 'll make a good fight.
I like th' looks iv the job an' nobody seems to care f'r it, an' I've got so blame tired since I left th' ship that if I don't have somethin' to do I'll go crazy, he says. 'I wisht ye'd make a note iv it an' give it to th' other papers, he says. 'Ar-re ye a raypublican or a dimmycrat"? says the rayporter. 'What's that? says Cousin George.
'Th' hated enimy has stolen th' ballot an' thrampled on th' r-rights iv th' citizens, says they, 'in the southern part iv th' state faster thin we cud undo their hellish wurruk in our own counties, they says. 'They now hol' th' jobs, they say, 'an' if they stay in they'se no more chanst iv iver ilictin' a dimmycrat again thin there wud be iv ilictin' a raypublican if we got in, they say.
Just say I'm a dimmycrat with sthrong raypublican leanings. Put it this way: I'm a dimmycrat, be a point raypublican, dimmycrat. Anny sailor man'll undherstand that. 'What'll I say ye'er platform is? 'Platform? 'Ye have to stand on a platform. 'I do, do I? Well, I don't. I'll stand on no platform, an' I'll hang on no sthrap. What d'ye think th'prisidincy is a throlley car?
'D'ye belong to th' raypublican or th' dimmycrat party? 'What ar-re they like? says Cousin George.
An' he'll spind th' r-rest iv his life thryin' to live down th' time he was a candydate." "Well, be hivins, I think if Dewey says he's a dimmycrat an' Joyce is with him, I'll give him a vote," said Mr. Hennessy. "It's no sin to be a candydate f'r prisidint." "No," said Mr. Dooley. "Tis sometimes a misfortune an' sometimes a joke. But I hope ye won't vote f'r him. He might be ilicted if ye did.
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