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Updated: June 11, 2025
Annyhow, I was waterin' the horses down to the ford, an' Father Le Claire comes on me sudden, ridin' up on the Kaw trail from the south. He blessed me wid his holy hand and then says quick: "'O'mie, ye are a lad I can trust!"
It's just as his frind, th' most prom'nent get-rich-quick-man iv his time, wanst said: 'Readin' makes a man full. An' maybe Hogan's right. Annyhow, I'm glad to have him advised about his books so that he won't hurt himsilf with lithrachoor that don't come undher th' pure food act. An' I'm glad to welcome our young friend Charles Eliot into our ancient univarsity. He'll like it f'r awhile.
Annyhow, the money's in the bank, an' it's proper dhrunk'll be Batty the Fool this night, an' likewise the Hon. Cubberd Allen Wiggit-Galt, Etcetera. There's two of me now, an' it's twice the amount I must be dhrinkin'. I swear, I feel a thirst risin' that minds me o' Ingy in the hills, an' the mess o' the Rile Irish wance again."
"Jawnny Mack took me down in th' afthernoon f'r to see th' monsthrous p'rade iv th' goold men. It was a gloryous spectacle. Th' sthreets were crowded with goold bugs an' women an' polismin an' ambulances. Th' procission was miles an' miles long. Labor an' capital marched side be side, or annyhow labor was in its usual place, afther th' capitalists.
"Well," said Mr. Dooley, "he'll ayther have to go to th' north an' be a subjick race, or stay in th' south an' be an objick lesson. 'Tis a har- rd time he'll have, annyhow. I'm not sure that I'd not as lave be gently lynched in Mississippi as baten to death in New York. If I was a black man, I'd choose th' cotton belt in prifrince to th' belt on th' neck fr'm th' polisman's club. I wud so."
I'm perfectly willin' to take ye'er weight or ye'er soul's weight fr'm what th' scales say. Little I care. A pound or two more or less makes no diff'rence. But when it comes to measurin' something that's precious to me, I'll not thrust it to a slight improvement on a see-saw. "But what do I know about it, annyhow? What do I know about annything?
'Never mind, said the young Irishman, 'shure the sisters 'll pick us up all right, an' if they don't well, we've only once to die, an' it's the grand fight we've had annyhow." One of the most stirring exploits of the war equaled only by the devotion and self-sacrifice of the Royal Engineers in the fight for the bridge is that of the Irish Fusiliers in saving another regiment from annihilation.
Some says Injuns; some says the posse run 'em down; an' Black Bart an' his dirthy outfit, they swear it was Keith. Oi've got me own notion. Annyhow, there's 'bout three hundred dollars, some mules, an' a lot o' valyble papers missin'." "But if it wasn't father, where is he now?" "That's what Oi've been tryin' ter foind out.
Years ago, Hinnissy, manny years ago, they was a race between th' dimmycrats an' th' raypublicans f'r to see which shud have a choice iv principles. Th' dimmycrats lost. I dinnaw why. Mebbe they stopped to take a dhrink. Annyhow, they lost.
It's no prohibitioner ye are, annyhow, fer that stuff in yer bottle wud cook a snake. Sufferin' ages! but it had an edge to it that wud sharpen a saw. What do ye think of ther blatherin' baste annyhow, seeñorita?"
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