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Dooley, thoughtfully, "I on'y hope they won't go to Saint Looey to disthri-bute it thimsilves. That would be a long sight worse thin th' cyclone." Mr. Dooley laid down his morning paper, and looked thoughtfully at the chandeliers. "Taaffe," he said musingly, "Taaffe where th' divvle? Th' name's familiar." "He lives in the Nineteenth," said Mr. McKenna.
Looey, I mean to have a room full of 'em, in fine leather an' morocco bindin's." "Will you read them?" asked Will. "Me read 'em! O' course not!" replied the Little Giant. "I'll hire a man to read 'em, an' he kin keep busy on them books while I'm away on my long huntin' trips." "But that won't be you reading 'em." "What diff'unce does that make?
More'n that, I understood that the city of New York was a much more expensive place than St. Looey. So I writ a letter back, tellin' 'em I was scatterin' seed so's you could hardly see across the street. There weren't no hope for a crop unless I had more plain sowin' material please remit.
The Spragg rooms were known as one of the Looey suites, and the drawing-room walls, above their wainscoting of highly-varnished mahogany, were hung with salmon-pink damask and adorned with oval portraits of Marie Antoinette and the Princess de Lamballe. In the centre of the florid carpet a gilt table with a top of Mexican onyx sustained a palm in a gilt basket tied with a pink bow.
He allowed his glance to rest perceptibly upon Merton Gill, who felt uncomfortable. "We were with Looey James five years," confided Mrs. Montague to her neighbours. "A hall show, of course hadn't heard of movies then doing Virginius and Julius Caesar and such classics, and then starting out with The Two Orphans for a short season. We were a knock-out, I'll say that.
I may have been a spiritualistic medium in my time now and then," he says, "and a mind reader, too, but I'm no prophet." "I ain't talking about the business, Doc, and you know it," says Looey. "We'd be all right and have our horses and wagon now if you'd only stuck to business and not got us into that poker game. Talk about suckers!
'That's accordin' to Hoyle for sky-pilots an' missionary people; but a young female a-hoidin' of herse'f high spurns your money. Thar's nothin' ketches me like a female of my species in distress, an' I recalls offerin' to stake a lady, who's lost her money somehow, back in St. Looey once.
"Bleedin' to death, Looey," informed Tim. "Ain't cut bad excep' that arm. That flyin' knife must have got an artery. Can we pull him through? He's a good skate." "I'll try. You look after Cap. He's only knocked out bullet creased him " "Glory be! He's all right, huh? Sure I'll fix him up. Everybody else dead? I got that guy in the bunk house drilled him three times."
Sech p'liteness is manners, goin' an' comin', which brings me with graceful swoops back to how Jack Rainey gets shot up. "'But, after all, breaks in Texas ag'in, for he feels wranglesome, 'manners is frequent a question of where you be. What's manners in St. Looey may be bad jedgment in Texas; same as some commoonities plays straights in poker, while thar's regions where straights is barred.
Looey says they is a lot of chancet fur improvements in the undertaking game by one whose heart is in his work, and he is going into that business to make a success of it, and try and get all the funeral trade fur miles around. He reads us an advertisement of the new firm he has been figgering out fur that town's weekly paper.
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