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"An' why shud they hang thim, Hinnissy? Why shud they? I'm an honest man mesilf, as men go. Ye might have ye'er watch, if ye had wan, on that bar f'r a year, an' I'd niver touch it. It wudden't be worth me while. I'm an honest man. I pay me taxes, whin Tim Ryan isn't assessor with Grogan's boy on th' books. I do me jooty; an' I believe in th' polis foorce, though not in polismen. That's diff'rent.
Take soft readin'. How d'ye expict to get on in th' wurruld th' way ye are goin'? Who wud make a confirmed reader th' cashier iv a bank? Ye'd divide ye'er customers into villyans an' heroes an' ye wudden't lend money to th' villyans. An' thin ye'd be wrong aven if ye were right. F'r th' villyans wud be more apt to have th' money to bring back thin th' heroes, says I. 'Ye may be right, says he.
'But, he says, 'I'm an old man! he says. 'I was ilicted young an' I niver done annything since, he says. 'I wudden't know what to do without it, he says. 'What ye propose is to make an ex- prisidint iv me. D'ye think I cud stand that?
I stand firm be union principles an' besides it's hot as blazes up there these days. I wudden't mind havin' a few weeks off." "Ye'll do right to quit," said Mr. Dooley. "I have no sympathy with sthrikers. I have no sympathy with thim anny more thin I have with people goin' off to a picnic. A sthrike is a wurrukin' man's vacation.
"But suppose ye have a little iv th' useful with ye. Ye br-reak into Hogan's house some night sufferin' fr'm an incontrollable impulse to take his watch. Don't get mad, now. I'm on'y supposin' all this. Ye wudden't take his watch. He has no watch. Well, he's sound asleep. Ye give him a good crack on th' head so he won't be disturbed, an' hook th' clock fr'm undher th' pillow.
I wudden't believe at first whin I r-read th' dispatches in th' pa-apers that me frind Gin'ral Otis wasn't in South Africa. It was on'y whin I see another chapter iv his justly cillybrated seeryal story, intitled 'Th' Capture iv Porac' that I knew he had an imitator in th' mother counthry. An' be hivins, I like th' English la- ad's style almost as well as our own gr-reat artist's.
He meant be that, that if money was plenty enough f'r him to get some without wurrukin', he'd open a gin mill. An' ye ma-arched afther Willum J. O'Brien, didn't ye? Well, he's a good la-ad. If I didn't think so, I wudden't say it until I got me strenth back or cud buy a gun. But did Willum J. O'Brien march? Not Willie.
Ye bet! If ye'er suffrage club was composed iv a hundhred thousand sturdy ladies it wudden't be long befure Bill O'Brien wud be sindin' ye a box iv chocolate creams f'r ye'er vote. "'Some day ye may get a vote, but befure ye do I'll r-read this in th' pa-apers: A hundhred thousand armed an' detarmined women invaded th' capital city to-day demandin' th' right to vote.
Supposin' ye took out iv a newspaper all th' murdhers, an' suicides, an' divorces, an elopements, an' fires, an' disease, an' war, an' famine, he says, 'ye wudden't have enough left to keep a man busy r-readin' while he rode ar-roun' th' block on th' lightnin' express.
I find that th' soul iv our late laminted frind weighed a light three pounds avirdoopoise. "No, sir, it won't do. 'Twill niver be popylar. People won't have their souls weighed. I wudden't f'r all th' wurruld have th' wurrud go through th' ward: 'Did ye hear about Dooley's soul? 'No, what? 'They had to get an expert accountant to figure its weight, it was that puny.
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