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Updated: May 16, 2025
An' I thought that slip av a lad from the Liffey soide was houlding me hand, and sayin' 'Mother! Mother! and we both wint ashlape; an' the b'ys of the rigimint when Alma was over, they said to each other, the b'ys they said: 'Kilquhanity's dead. An' the trinches was dug, an' all we foine dead b'ys was laid in long rows loike candles in the trinches.
An' I thought that slip av a lad from the Liffey soide was houlding me hand, and sayin' 'Mother! Mother! and we both wint ashlape; an' the b'ys of the rigimint when Alma was over, they said to each other, the b'ys they said: 'Kilquhanity's dead. An' the trinches was dug, an' all we foine dead b'ys was laid in long rows loike candles in the trinches.
Isn't it him that's down there in Sandago fightin' f'r th' honor iv th' flag, while th' likes iv you is up here livin' like a prince, an' doin' nawthin' all th' livelong day but shovel at th' rollin'-mills? Who are ye f'r to criticize th' dayfinders iv our counthry who ar-re lyin' in th' trinches, an' havin' th' clothes stole off their backs be th' pathriotic Cubians, I'd like to know?
"I'm no such thing," said Mr. Hennessy, hotly. "I've been a Dimmycrat f'r thirty year." "Well, annyhow," said Mr. Dooley, "don't speak disrayspictful iv th' ar-rmy. Lave me r-read you Terry's letter fr'm th' fr-ront. 'M m: In th' trinches, two miles fr'm Sandago, with a land crab as big as a lobster crawlin' up me back be way iv Kingston, June 6, Dear Uncle Martin. That's th' way it begins.
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