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Updated: June 6, 2025
Well, sir, they fought fr'm wan o'clock till tin in th' night, an' nayther give up; though Flannagan had th' best iv it, bein' young. 'Why don't ye put him out? says wan iv th' la-ads. 'Whisht, says Flannagan.
"I see be th' pa-apers," said Mr. Dooley, "that Boss have flew th' coop. 'Tis too bad, too bad. He wa-as a gr-reat man." "Is he dead?" asked Mr. McKenna. "No, faith, worse thin that; he's resigned. He calls th' la-ads about him, an' says he: 'Boys, he says, 'I'm tired iv politics, he says. 'I'm goin' to quit it f'r me health, he says.
They're shy iv backs, eyes an' mud piles, an' they will be until they larn that sheep-herdin' an' gin'ralship ar-re diff'rent things, an' fill up their ar-rmy with men that ar-re not fightin' f'r money or glory, but because they want to get home to their wives alive." "Ye talk like an' ol book," said Mr. Hennessy, in disgust. "Ye with ye- re maundhrin' ar-re no betther thin thim expert la-ads."
Whin th' convintion come to ordher, th' chairman says, 'La-ads, we'll open proceedin's be havin' th' Hon'rable Rube Spike, fr'm th' imperyal Territ'ry iv Okalahoma, cough up his famous song, "Pa-pa Cleveland's Teeth are filled with Goold." 'Mr.
'Tell us what is wanted ye'ersilf or call in a journeyman who's wurrukin' card is dated this cinchry, I says. 'An' I'm r-right too, Hinnissy." "Well," said Mr. Hennessy, slowly, "those ol' la-ads was level-headed." "Thrue f'r ye," said Mr. Dooley. "But undher th' new iliction laws ye can't vote th' cimitries." The NEGRO PROBLEM "What's goin' to happen to th' naygur?" asked Mr. Hennessy.
"Carey or Clancy?" "I think, by dad," said Mr. Dooley, "that Hinnissy's crazy." "I always thought so," said Mr. McKenna, amiably. "But what's he been doin' of late?" "Well, I took him down to see th' good la-ads havin' fun with th' opprissors iv th' people at th' Colliseem, said Mr. Dooley. "I had no ticket, an' he had none.
''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.
I know more thin most iv thim la-ads down below; f'r I can't undherstand a wurrud ye say, so I'm onable, I says, 'f'r to make mistakes. I won't give anny tistimony, because 'twud be out iv place in this sacred timple devoted to th' practice iv orathry, I says; 'but I can make as good a speech as annywan, an' here goes. "Gin'ral Merceer 'May I ask this polluted witness wan question?
'Tis be such as ye that th' polisman who dhrinks on th' sly, an' th' saloon-keeper that keeps open f'r th' la-ads an' th' newsboys that shoots craps, 'll be brought to justice. Down with crime! says I. Fellow-citizens, I thank ye kindly. Th' meetin' is adjourned siney dee; an' I app'int Missers Dooley, O'Brien, Casey, Pug Slattery, an' mesilf to lade out th' Lexow Sodality be th' nose." Mr.
It was dhrink an' fight ivry night an' all day Sundah. Th' little la-ads come together under sidewalks, an' rushed th' can over to Burke's on th' corner an' listened to what th' big lads tol' thim.
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