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If there were forty thousand iv thim ar-rmed with hat pins an' prepared to plunge th' same into th' stomachs iv th' inimies iv female suffrage, an' if, instead iv faintin' in th' ar-rms iv th' constablry, they charged an' punctured thim an' broke their way into th' House iv Commons, an' pulled th' wig off the speaker, an' knocked th' hat over th' eyes iv th' prime ministher it wudden't be long befure some mimber wud talk in his sleep in their favor.
"'I'm glad to hear ye say that, says th' gin'ral, 'If ye didn't, I'd rayjooce ye to th' r-ranks to-morrah. I niver see th' man befure; an', be hivins, I don't want to see him again. But I have a letter here fr'm him, askin' me if he cud knock off wurruk at four o'clock to go to his aunt's fun'ral. "'Cap, says th' prisident, 'what ye got to say to this? Did ye write th' letter?
Instead iv venturin' into th' wilds an' p'raps bein' et up be wan iv his fav'rite charackters, he calls f'r some tea an' toast, jabs his pen into th' inkwell, an' writes: 'Vichtry was not long in th' grasp iv th' whale. Befure he cud return to his burrow Tusky Bicuspid had seized him be th' tail an' dashed his brains out agin a rock.
An' the beautiful wife he lost! Hivin be kind to her! Not her," following the judge's glance toward Paulina, "but an angel that need niver feel shame to shtand befure the blissid Payther himsilf, wid the blue eyes an' the golden hair in the picter he carries nixt his harrt, the saints have pity on him! An' how he suffered fer the good cause! Och hone! it breaks me harrt!" Here Mrs.
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.
"'Tis some time befure they comprehind 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.
Dooley, "is weighin' th' human soul. A fellow up in Matsachoosetts has done it. He weighs ye befure ye die an' he weighs ye afther ye die, an' th' diff'rence is what ye'er soul weighs. He's discovered that th' av'rage weight iv a soul in New England is six ounces or a little less. Fr'm this he argies that th' conscience isn't part iv th' soul.
He says th' more he practises medicine th' more he becomes a janitor with a knowledge iv cookin'. He says if people wud on'y call him in befure they got sick, he'd abolish ivry disease in th' ward except old age an' pollyticks. He says he's lookin' forward to th' day whin th' tillyphone will ring an' he'll hear a voice sayin': 'Hurry up over to Hinnissy's.
Ye bet! If ye'er suffrage club was composed iv a hundhred thousand sturdy ladies it wudden't be long befure Bill O'Brien wud be sindin' ye a box iv chocolate creams f'r ye'er vote. "'Some day ye may get a vote, but befure ye do I'll r-read this in th' pa-apers: A hundhred thousand armed an' detarmined women invaded th' capital city to-day demandin' th' right to vote.
He got up a stereopticon show with pitchers iv a widow-an-orphan befure an' afther wirin', an' he put an advertisement in all th' pa-apers tellin' how his stock wud make weak men sthrong. He had th' tip sarved hot in all th' resthrants in Wall sthrcet, an' told it confidintially to an open-air meetin' in Madison Square.
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