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Updated: May 16, 2025
"What's that f'r?" Mr. Hennessy asked. "It's a Scotch game," said Mr. Dooley, with a wave of his hand. "I wonder how it come out to-day. Here's th' pa-aper. Let me see. McKinley at Canton. Still there. He niver cared to wandher fr'm his own fireside. Collar-button men f'r th' goold standard. Statues iv Heidelback, Ickleheimer an' Company to be erected in Washington.
Mary Ann was his wife. Her maiden name was Riley. She heard him say it. 'Gus, says she, 'if iver I hear iv ye shootin' e'er a king I'll lave ye, she says." "Well, sir, I thought he was jokin', but be hivins, wan day he disappeared, an' lo an' behold, two weeks afther I picks up a pa-aper an' r-reads that me brave Schmitt was took up be th' polis f'r thryin' to cop a monarch fr'm behind a three.
At prisint th' Chief Magistrate was in th' kitchen with his daughter settin' on his head. "'Th' speech was received with loud cheers, an' th' mob proceeded down Pinnslyvanya Avnoo. Be noon all enthrances to th' capital were jammed. Congressmen attimptin' to enter were seized be th' hair iv th' head an' made to sign a pa-aper promisin' to vote right.
Hennessy, "an' it ain't like shinny, an' it ain't like lawn-teenis, an' it ain't like forty-fives, an' it ain't" "Like canvas-back duck or anny other game ye know," said Mr. Dooley. "Thin what is it like?" said Mr. Hennessy. "I see be th' pa-aper that Hobart What-d'ye-call-him is wan iv th' best at it.
Dooley, "is a man ye niver heerd iv befure. If ye can think iv annywan whose face is onfamilyar to ye an' ye don't raymimber his name, an' he's got a job on a pa-aper ye didn't know was published, he's a war expert. 'Tis a har-rd office to fill. Whin a war begins th' timptation is sthrong f'r ivry man to grab hold iv a gun an go to th' fr-ront.
An' he buys himsilf a map made be a fortune teller in a dhream, a box iv pencils an' a field glass, an' goes an' looks f'r a job as a war expert. Says th' editor iv th' pa-aper: 'I don't know ye. Ye must be a war expert, he says. 'I am, says th' la-ad. 'Was ye iver in a war? says th' editor. 'I've been in nawthin' else, says th' la-ad.
Whin th' man gets through he goes to th' window an' waits to see whether th' polisman that wint into th' saloon is afther a dhrink or sarvin' a warrant. If he comes r-right out 'tis a warrant. Thin he sets back in a chair an' figures out that th' pitchers on th' wall pa-aper ar-re all alike ivry third row.
"Ye shall not crucify mankind upon a crown iv thorns," said Mr. Hennessy. "Right ye ar-re, I forgot," Mr. Dooley went on. "Well, thim were his own wurruds. He was young an' he wanted something an' he spoke up. He'd been a rayporther on a newspaper an' he'd rather be prisidint thin write anny longer f'r th' pa-aper, an' he made th' whole iv th' piece out iv his own head.
Which are you to be? But even making all allowances we see that we must cultivate much better than the "average," to make anything more than the farmer's hard living off the land. Peter Dunne tells us what kind of a grind that is. "This pa-aper says th' farmer niver sthrikes. He hasn't got th' time to. He's too happy. A farmer is continted with his farm lot.
I see be th' pa-aper that Doc Nansen stopped at Nootchinchoot Islands, an' saw Flora an' Fauna; an' thin, comin' back on th' ice, he encountherd thim again." "I suppose," said Mr. Dooley, "ye think Flora an' Fauna is two little Eskeemy girls at skip-rope an' 'London bridge is fallin' down' on th' icebergs an' glaziers. It's a pretty idee ye have iv th' life in thim parts.
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