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Thank Hivin, McKinley knows betther thin to sind th' likes iv thim abroad to shock our frinds be dumpin' their coffee into thimsilves fr'm a saucer. "Th' dure bell rings, an' a futman in liv'ry says: 'I'm Master Willie Dooselbery's man, an' he's come to be examined f'r th' army, says he.
'We must be up an' doin', he says. 'Hol' on there, says wan iv th' comity. 'There must be some mistake in this fr'm th' sixth precin't, he says. 'Where's the sixth precin't? says Clarence. 'Over be th' dumps, says Willie. 'I told me futman to see to that. He lives at th' corner iv Desplaines an Bloo Island Av'noo on Goose's Island, he says.
What shall we do with thim? "We haven't anny," said Mr. Hennessy. "No," said Mr. Dooley. "Ar-rchey r-road has no servant girl problem. Th' rule is ivry woman her own cook an' ivry man his own futman, an' be th' same token we have no poly-gamy problem an' no open dure problem an' no Ph'lippeen problem.
"'I think I'll have a smoke, says he here Pat assumed an aristocratic air and spoke in refined and mincing tones 'before I go to bed. William, says he to one of the futmen, 'bring me me slippers. Well, the gentleman sat down in a grand soft armchair, an' the futman brought his slippers an' if the Gout didn't take the opportunity an' pop into his big toe!"
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