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"Gin'ral Shafter is a big, coorse, two-fisted man fr'm Mitchigan, an', whin he see Gin'ral Garshy an' his twinty-five gallant followers, 'Fr-ront, says he. 'This way, he says, 'step lively, he says, 'an' move some iv these things, he says. 'Sir, says Gin'ral Garshy, 'd'ye take me f'r a dhray? he says. 'I'm a sojer, he says, 'not a baggage car, he says.
Ye'd wake up in th' middle iv th' night, dhreamin' that ye was back at th' gas-house with ye'er money gone. Ye'd be prisidint iv a charitable society. Ye'd have to wear ye'er shoes in th' house, an' ye'er wife'd have ye around to rayciptions an dances. Ye'd move to Mitchigan Avnoo, an' ye'd hire a coachman that'd laugh at ye.
"'Tis not, Hinnissy, that this man Yerkuss goes up to an aldherman an' says out sthraight, 'Here, Bill, take this bundle, an' be an infamious scoundhrel. That's th' way th' man in Mitchigan Avnoo sees it, but 'tis not sthraight. D'ye mind Dochney that was wanst aldherman here? Ye don't. Well, I do.
'D'ye know that since ye'er death there has growed up on th' shore iv Lake Mitchigan a city that wud make Rome look like a whistlin' station a city that has a popylation iv eight million people till th' census rayport comes out? I says. 'I niver heerd iv it, he says.
Th' la-ads he's tackled have more marked ca-ards in their pockets thin a preacher fr'm Mitchigan an' more bad money thin ye cud shake out iv th' coat-tail pockets iv a prosp'rous banker fr'm Injianny. He's been up again Gladstun an' Bisma-arck an' ol' what-ye-call-'im, th' Eyetalian, his name's got away from me, an' he's done thim all. "Well, business is bad. No wan will play with him.
Joseph, Mitchigan; an' Clonmel Tipp'rary pa-apers please copy. "I didn't see e'er a nee about th' fam'ly iv th' little man back iv th' dumps, though maybe he had wan to set aroun' th' fire in th' dark an' start at th' tap iv a heel on th' dure-step. Mebbe he had a fam'ly, poor things. A fun'ral is great la-arks f'r th' neighbors, an' 'tis not so bad f'r th' corpse.
"What ar-re ye talkin' about?" cried Mr. Hennessy, in deep disgust. "All this time ye've been standin' behind this bar ladlin' out disturbance to th' Sixth Wa-ard, an' ye haven't been as far east as Mitchigan Avnoo in twinty years. What have ye had to do with all these things?" "Well," said Mr. Dooley, "I had as much to do with thim as th' queen."
"They was a man be th' name iv Daheny, Jawn, a cousin iv th' wan ye know, that started to walk up th' r-road fr'm th' bridge. Befure he got to Halsthed Sthreet, his shoes was on fire. He turned in an alarm; but th' fire departmint was all down on Mitchigan Avnoo, puttin' out th' lake, an'" "Putting out what?" demanded Mr. McKenna. "Puttin' out th' lake," replied Mr. Dooley, stolidly.
But th' customs iv th' neighbors are agin it. "But 'tis diff'rent with others, Hinnissy. Down be Mitchigan Avnoo marredge is no more bindin' thin a dhream. A short marrid life an' an onhappy wan is their motto. Off with th' old love an' on with th' new an' off with that. 'Till death us do part, says th' preacher. 'Or th' jury, whispers th' blushin' bride.
Me photographs are on sale at all first-class newsdealers. Yet there is no ca'm f'r me. Onthinkin' wans insult me. They tell me a sojer can't ate gin'ral ordhers. They want me to raysign an' go back to me humble home in Mitchigan. Disgustin' men that've done nawthin' but get thimsilves shot, ask f'r milk an' quinine.