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He jerked off his hat and cast it into a far corner and pulled off his coat, throwing it after his hat. He was climbing on to the bar when the big mayor and Grevemeyer laid their hands on the little man and held him tightly. The big mayor shook him once and set him on the floor. "Mike!" said the big mayor. "What's th' matter wid ye? What are ye goin' afther Casey that way for? Is it crazy ye are?
In half an hour the committees had been appointed, and the mayor turned to the regular business. Then from his seat at the left of the last row little Alderman Toole arose. "Misther Mayor," he said, "how about thim thim don thim don Golas!" whispered Alderman Grevemeyer hoarsely, "dongolas." "How about thim dongolas, Misther Mayor?" asked Alderman Toole. "Sure!" said the mayor.
"Ya!" said Grevemeyer, nodding his head solemnly. "You took such a drink!" "Sure," said Toole, arranging his vest. "Grevemeyer saw me take th' drink an now I have no mimory of dongolas at all. If ye was t' show me a chromo of wan I wouldn't know was it a dongola or what. I'm ashamed of ye, Casey!" "If ye done it, Casey, ye hadn't have ought t' have done it," said Dugan reprovingly.
'Twas dongola shoes wan of me kids had, last winter, an' no good they were, too. Dongolas is shoes, Grevemeyer laced shoes dongolas is laced shoes." The big mayor leaned his head far back and laughed long and loud. He pounded on the bar with his fist, and slapped Toole on the back. "Laced shoes!" he cried, wiping his eyes, and then he became suddenly serious.
"A dongola, Dugan" he said slowly, and stopped. "A dongola" he repeated. "A dongola did ye ask me what a dongola might be, Dugan?" The big mayor nodded, and Grevemeyer leaned forward to catch the answer. Casey, too, leaned on his bar and listened. Alderman Toole raised his glass to his lips and filled his mouth with the liquor. Instantly he dashed the glass furiously to the floor.
Wan minute ago I could have told ye th' whole history of dongolas, from th' time of Adam up till now, an' have drawed a picture of wan that annywan could recognize an' now I wouldn't know wan if ye was show it t' me! I was about t' tell ye th' whole history of dongolas, Dugan; 'twas on th' ind of me tongue t' give ye a talk on dongolas, whin I took a drink. Ye saw me take a drink, Grevemeyer?"
"Ya!" said the alderman unsuspectingly, "gifing such a forgetfulness on such easy things as dongolas." "Sure! You tell Dugan what dongolas is, Grevemeyer," said Toole quickly. Grevemeyer looked at his glass thoughtfully. His mind worked slowly always, but he saw that it would not do for him to have knock-out drops so soon after Toole. "Ach!" he exclaimed angrily.
Of coorse," he added, putting his mouth close to Toole's ear, and winking at Grevemeyer, "ye will see that there is a rake-off for me an' th' byes." "Sure!" said Toole. The big mayor turned back to the bar and took a drink from his glass. Grevemeyer took a drink from his glass, also. So did Toole, gravely. Dugan wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and turned to Toole again.
"You are insulting to me mit such questions Toole. So much will I tell you never ask Germans what is dongolas. It is not for Germans to talk about such things. Ask Casey." Casey scratched his head thoughtfully. "Dongolas?" he repeated. "I have heard th' word, Grevemeyer. Wait a bit! 'Tis something about shoes. Sure! I remimber, now!
He boldly took a place between the big mayor and Alderman Grevemeyer, and said: "One of th' same, Casey," with the air of a man who has matters of importance on his mind. He felt that things were coming his way. Even the big mayor seemed to appreciate it, for he put his hand affectionately on Toole's shoulder.
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