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Updated: June 6, 2025
'Thin, says me uncle Mike, 'I wash me hands iv th' whole invasion, he says. 'I'll throuble ye f'r me voucher, he says. 'I'm goin back to a counthry where they grow men that 'll stand up an' fight back, he says; an' he an' his la-ads wint over to Buf-falo, an' was locked up f'r rivolution.
They'se no quiet f'r annybody. They's a fight on ivry minyit iv th' time. Ye may say to ye'ersilf: 'I'll lave these la-ads roll each other as much as they plaze, but I'll set here in th' shade an' dhrink me milk punch, but ye can't do it. Some wan 'll say, 'Look at that gazabo settin' out there alone. He's too proud f'r to jine in our simple dimmycratic festivities.
'Sind out some row-boats an' a yacht, an' desthroy thim. Clubs is thrumps, he says, and he wint on playin'. Th' Spanish fleet was attackted on all sides be our br-rave la-ads, nobly assisted be th' dispatch boats iv the newspapers. Wan by wan they was desthroyed. Three battle-ships attackted th' convarted yacht Gloucester.
We're a sad lot iv old la-ads, hatin' th' school, but hatin' th' grajation exercises aven more. "But 'tis a rale pleasure to see th' bright faced freshmen comin' in an' I welcome th' last young fellow fr'm Harvard to our vin'rable institution. I like to see these earnest, clear-eyed la-ads comin' in to waken th' echoes iv our grim walls with their young voices.
But afther awhile the murdherin' English gover'mint put in a few recreent but gallant la-ads fr'm th' ol' dart we ought to be proud iv thim, curse thim Pat O'Roberts, an' Mike McKitchener, an' Terrence O'Fr-rinch an' they give th' view halloo an' wint through th' Dutch like a party comin' home fr'm a fifteenth iv August picnic might go through a singerbund.
An' we're to th' flure." "That's th' way it stands in Chiny, Hinnissy, an' it looks to me as though Westhren Civilization was in f'r a bump. I mind wanst whin a dhrunk prize fighter come up th' r-road and wint to sleep on Slavin's steps. Some iv th' good sthrong la-ads happened along an' they were near bein' at blows over who shud have his watch an' who shud take his hat.
"I wint out last Choosdah, an' I suppose I must 've freed as much as eight counties in Ireland. All th' la-ads was there. Th' first ma-an I see was Dorgan, the sanyor guarjeen in the Wolfe Tone Lithry Society. He's th' la-ad that have made th' Prince iv Wales thrimble in his moccasins.
"I dinnaw about that," said Mr. Dooley; "but I know this, that there's th' makin' iv gr-reat statesmen in Porther Ricky. A proud people that can switch as quick as thim la-ads have nawthin' to larn in th' way iv what Hogan calls th' signs iv gover'mint, even fr'm th' Supreme Court." "If they don't catch up with him pretty soon," said Mr.
But these here figures had th' same effect on th' la-ads that a mintion iv Lord Castlereagh'd have on their fathers. Wan la-ad hauled off, an' give a la-ad acrost fr'm him a punch in th' stomach. His frind acrost th' way caught him in th' ear. Th' cinter rush iv th' Saint Aloysiuses took a runnin' jump at th' left lung iv wan iv th' Christyan Brothers, an' wint to th' grass with him.
Th' las' I see iv th' band it was goin' down th' road towards th' slough with a mob behind it, an' all th' polis foorce fr'm Deerin' Sthreet afther th' mob. Th' la-ads collected th' horns an' th' dhrums, an' that started th' Ar-rchey Road brass band. Little Mike Doyle larned to play 'Th' Rambler fr'm Clare' beautifully on what they call a pickle-e-o befure they sarved a rayplivin writ on him.
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