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'Boys, says he to th' rayporthers, 'th' King's on me yacht. D'ye hear me? Th' King's on me yacht. But don't say annything about it. I don't want to have it known. Don't print it onless ye have to, an' thin put it in an inconspicuous place, like th' first page. He's here sure enough, boys. Th' mast just fell on his Majesty. It nearly kilt him. I'm not sure it didn't kill him.
He remained perfectly cool throughout. So did I. I was almost cold. So did both iv us. But, mind not a wurrud iv this in th' pa-apers. I don't know how th' rayporthers got hold iv it. But they're a pryin' lot." "How did th' mast come to fall?" asked Mr. Hennessy, eagerly. "D'ye suppose Sir Lipton is wan iv us?" "S-sh," said Mr. Dooley, adding, softly, "he was bor-rn in Limerick."
Dooley continued, "he's a citizen iv England an' he has a castle that's as big as a hotel, on'y nobody goes there excipt thim that's ast, an' not all of those, an' he owns a newspaper an' th' editor iv it's the Prince iv Wales an' th' rayporthers is all jooks an' th' Archbishop iv Canterbury r-runs th' ilivator, an' slug wan in th' printin' office is th' Impror iv Germany in disgeese.
If ye can't projooce her in a week, I'll fix ye. An' let that be th' end iv it. "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.
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