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Th' on'y person that ought to be able to get near enough a rale king to kill him is a jook, or th' likes iv that. Th' idee iv a man from Noo Jarsey havin' th' chanst!" "What on earth's to be done about thim arnychists?" Mr. Hennessy asked. "What ails thim annyhow? What do they want?" "Th' Lord on'y knows," said Mr. Dooley. "They don't want annything, that's what they want.
'Look here, says they. 'Ye've vilated nearly all th' statues iv th' State iv Noo Jarsey already, they says, 'an' if ye ain't careful, ye'll be hauled up f'r contimpt iv coort, they says. So they took th' matther in hand an' dhrew up th' r-right pa-apers. 'State iv Noo York, county iv Cook, s. s. Know all men be these prisints.
"Nay, sir, I don't," cried the old fellow indignantly; "and don't you go saying such things." "Ha ha ha!" laughed Tom. "Ah, you may laugh, sir; but Parson Maxted's handsome young Jarsey cow did die." "Well, all cows die some time," cried Tom. "Ay, sir, that's true; but not after old Mother Warboys has stood cussin' for ever so long about the milk." "And did she?"
"It's me, what there is left on me," growled Tom. "Great ugly rough 'un. Best thing you can do will be smuggle me a noo blue shirt from Jarsey." "Tom Bodger?" "Tom Bodger it is." "Why are you sitting on me? I thought " "You thought," growled Tom, scornfully. "What right's a chap like you to think?" "But I thought the press-gang had got me."
An' when time's o' consekens an' you got to arn your livin', you don' want to be playin' 'bout Casquets an' Jarsey 'stid of gittin' 'cross to Sark an' done wi' it." "Not a bit of it. You're quite right. Try some of this," as he began fumbling meaningly with a black stump of a pipe.
D'ye think at my age I wud be contint to dash fr'm wan justice coort to another pleadin' f'r habyas-corpus writs or test me principles iv personal expansion in a Noo Jarsey village? he says. 'I'd rather be a dead prisidint thin a live ex-prisidint. If I have anny pollytical ambition I'd rather be a Grant or a Garfield thin a Cleveland or a Harrison, he says.
We got to arn our livin'. An' Havver Gosslin's this side the island an' th' Creux's t'other side, an' th' currents round them points is the very divvle." "That's all right, as long as you land me in Sark." "The very divvle," and the grizzled head wagged reminiscently. "I seen 'em go right up to Casquets and haf-way to Jarsey trying to get across to Sark.
Yes, I then got on board of one of our sloops, and tried my hand at settling the account with my old masters. I was taken prisoner for my pains, but worried through the war without getting my neck stretched. They wanted to make it out, on board the old Jarsey, that I was an Englishman, but I told 'em just to prove it. Let 'em only prove where I was born, I said, and I would give it up.
The man may be all right, ef he does wear hair on his lip. Charity kivers lots a sins." "Ya-as, but charity don't kiver no wolves with wool. An' ef he a'n't a woolly wolf they's no snakes in Jarsey, as little Ridin' Hood said when her granny tried to bite her head off.
"But make up your minds to one thing, boys, if their caps are full of feathers and their uniforms more fit for a ball-room than for service, these same fine-plumaged birds can fight; and there must be no lagging if we are to prove ourselves their betters, or even their equals." "We'll show 'em what the Jarsey game-cocks kin do, an don't you be afeared, kun'l."
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