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Don't thry to coerce us. Continue to lay f'r us an' hope on. If ye tax us there's hardly an old bachelor in th' land that won't fling his five dollars acrost th' counter at th' tax office an' say: 'Hang th' expense." "Ye'er frind Simpson was in here awhile ago," said Mr. Dooley, "an' he was that mad." "What ailed him?" asked Mr. Hennessy. "Well," said Mr.
''Tis far nobler, he says, 'to purrish on th' ragin' main, he says, 'thin to die with ye'er lungs full iv hayseed an' ye'er eyes full iv dust, he says. 'I was born in a large city, he says; 'an' I don't know th' rules iv th' barn, he says. An' he wint out, an' took his lickin'. "'Twas too bad Shafter didn't get a chanst at him, but he's give th' tip to th' la-ads that makes th' boats.
"Childher!" said Mr. Dooley. "Sure I have th' finest fam'ly in th' city. Without scandal I'm th' father iv ivry child in Ar-rchey r-road fr'm end to end." "An' none iv ye'er own," said Mr. Hennessy. "I wish to hell, Hinnissy," said Mr. Dooley savagely, "ye'd not lean against that mirror, I don't want to have to tell ye again." The troubled Mr. Hennessy had been telling Mr.
'Sir, says Mack, 'Goold Bonds, th' pride iv th' administhration, has had a fit, he says. ''Twud br-reak our hear-rts to lose our little pet, he says. 'Go, he says, 'an' take such measures as ye'er noble healin' ar-rt sug-gists, he says; 'an' may th' prayers iv an agonized foster-parent go with ye, he says.
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 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 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.
'An' I believe ye'er intintions to presarve peace ar-re honest, but I don't like to see ye pullin' off ye'er coat an' here goes f'r throuble while ye have ye'er arms in th' sleeves, he says. 'F'r, he says, 'ye have put ye'er hand in th' reaper an' it cannot turn back, he says. "An' there they go, Hinnissy. I'm not again England in this thing, Hinnissy, an' I'm not again th' Boers.
''Tis th' roonation iv th' young, an' ye can't beat it, he says. 'An' you, fair- haired youth, he says, 'what d'ye do that makes ye'er color so good an' ye'er eye so bright? 'I, says th' la-ad, 'am th' boy that writes th' fightin' dope, he says.
"Iv coorse, low people like ye, Hinnissy, will kick because it's goin' to cost ye more to indulge ye'er taste in ennervating luxuries. D'ye know Sinitor Aldhrich? Ye dont? I'm surprised to hear it. He knows ye. Why, he all but mentions ye'er name in two or three places. He does so.
They was a time, Cap, whin 'twas seryously thought iv takin' ye fr'm th' Divvle's Own Island an' makin' ye prisident iv th' Women's Rescue League. But I'm afraid, Cap, ye're disqualified f'r that position be what we've heard fr'm ye'er own lips durin th' thrile. Ye lost a good job. Thin there ar-re some other things about ye I don't undherstand.
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