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Mr. Dooley's Philosophy Part 12

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[Ill.u.s.tration]

"What on earth's to be done about thim arnychists?" Mr. Hennessy asked.

"What ails thim annyhow? What do they want?"

"Th' Lord on'y knows," said Mr. Dooley.

"They don't want annything, that's what they want. They want peace on earth an' th' way they propose to get it is be murdhrin' ivry man that don't agree with thim. They think we all shud do as they please. They're down on th' polis foorce an' in favor iv th' pop'lace, an' whin they've kilt a king they call on th' polis to save thim fr'm th' mob. An'

between you an' me, Hinnissy, ivry arnychist I've knowed, an' I've met manny in me time, an' quite, law-abidin' citizens they was, too, had th'

makin' iv a thradeejan in him. If they was no newspapers they'd be few arnychists. They want to get their pitchers in th' pa-apers an' they can't do it be wheelin' bananas through th' sthreets or milkin' a cow, so they go out an' kill a king. I used to know a man be th' name iv Schmitt that was a cobbler be profession an' lived next dure but wan to me. He was th' dacintist man ye iver see. He kep' a canary bur-rd, an'

his devotion to his wife was th' scandal iv th' neighborhood. But bless my soul, how he hated kings. He cudden't abide Ca.s.sidy afther he heerd he was a dayscinded fr'm th' kings iv Connock, though Ca.s.sidy was what ye call a prolotoorio or a talkin' workin'man. An' th' wan king he hated above all others was th' king iv Scholizwig-Holstein, which was th'

barbarous counthry he come fr'm. He cud talk fairly dacint about other kings, but this wan--Ludwig was his name an' I seen his pitcher in th'

pa-apers wanst--wud throw him into a fit. He blamed ivrything that happened to Ludwig. If they was a sthrike he charged it to Ludwig. If Schwartzmeister didn't pay him f'r half-solin' a pair iv Congress gaiters he used to wear in thim days, he tied a sthring arround his finger f'r to remind him that he had to kill Ludwig. 'What have ye again' th' king?' says I. 'He is an opprissor iv th' poor,' he says. 'So ar-re ye,' I says, 'or ye'd mend boots free.' 'He's explodin' th'

prolotoorio,' he says. 'Sure,' says I, 'th' prolotoorio can explode thimsilves pretty well,' says I. 'He oughtn't to be allowed to live in luxury while others starve,' he says. 'An' wud ye be killin' a man f'r holdin' a nice job?' says I. 'What good wud it do ye?' says I. 'I'd be th' emanc.i.p.ator iv th' people,' says he. 'Ye'd have th' wurred on th'

coffin lid,' says I. 'Why,' says he, 'think iv me, Schmitt, Owgoost Schmitt, stalkin' forth to avinge th' woes iv th' poor,' he says.

'Loodwig, th' cursed, goes by. I jumps fr'm behind a three an' society is freed fr'm th' monsther,' he says. 'Think iv th' glory iv it,' he says. 'Owgoost Schmitt, emanc.i.p.ator,' he says. 'I'll prove to Mary Ann that I'm a man,' he says. 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. I sint him a copy iv a pa-aper with his pitcher in it, but I don't know if iver he got it. He's over there now an' his wife is takin' in was.h.i.+n'."

"It's vanity that makes arnychists, Hinnissy--vanity an' th' habits kings has nowadays iv bein' as common as life insurance agents."

"I don't like kings," said Mr. Hennessy, "but I like arnychists less.

They ought to be kilt off as fast as they're caught."

"They'll be that," said Mr. Dooley. "But killin' thim is like wringin'

th' neck iv a mickrobe."

ANGLO-AMERICAN SPORTS

"Hinnissy, if iver we have war with what me frind Carl Schurz'd call th'

Mother County, it'll not come fr'm anny Vinnyzwalan question. Ye can't get me excited over th' throbbin' debate on th' location iv th' Orynocoo River or whether th' miners that go to Alaska f'r goold ar're buried be th' Canajeen or th' American authorities. Ye bet ye can't. But some day we'll be beat in a yacht r-race or done up at futball an' thin what Hogan call th' dogs iv war'll break out iv th' kennel an' divastate th'

wurruld."

"Well," said Mr. Hennessy, complacently, "if we wait f'r that we might as well disband our navy."

"I dinnaw about that," said Mr. Dooley, "I dinnaw abut that; afther ye left to investigate th' ir'n foundhries an' other pitcheresque roons iv this misguided counthry, I wint out to give a few raw rahs f'r me fellow colleejens, who was attimptin' to dimonsthrate their supeeryority over th' effete scholars iv England at what I see be th' pa-apers is called th' Olympian games. Ye get to th' Olympian games be suffocation in a tunnel. Whin ye come to, ye pay four s.h.i.+llin's or a dollar in our degraded currency, an' stand in th' sun an' look at th' Prince iv Wales.

Th' Prince iv Wales looks at ye, too, but he don't see ye."

"Me frind, th' American amba.s.sadure was there, an' manny iv th' seats iv larnin' in th' gran' stand was occupied be th' flower iv our seminaries iv meditation or thought conservatories. I r-read it in th' pa-apers. At th' time I come in they was recitin' a pome fr'm th' Greek, to a thoughtful-lookin' young profissor wearin' th' star-spangled banner f'r a necktie an' smokin' a cigareet. 'Now, boys,' says th' profissor, 'all together.' 'Rickety, co-ex, co-ex, hullabaloo, bozoo, bozoo, Harvard,'

says th' lads. I was that proud iv me belovid counthry that I wanted to take off me hat there an' thin an' give th' colledge yell iv th' Ar- rchey road reform school. But I was resthrained be a frind iv mine that I met comin' over. He was fr'm Matsachoosetts, an' says he: 'Don't make a disturbance,' he says. 'We've got to create a fav'rable impression here,' he says, 'Th' English,' he says, 'niver shows enthusyasm,' he says. 'Tis regarded as unpolite,' he says. 'If ye yell,' he says, 'they'll think we want to win,' he says, 'an' we didn't come over here to win,' he says. 'Let us show thim,' he says, 'that we're gintlemen, be it iver so painful,' he says. An' I resthrained mesilf be puttin' me fist in me mouth."

[Ill.u.s.tration]

"They was an Englishman standin' behind me, Hinnissy, an' he was a model iv behaviour f'r all Americans intindin' to take up their homes in Cubia. Ye cudden't get this la-ad war-rmed up if ye built a fire undher him. He had an eye-gla.s.s pinned to his face an' he niver even smiled whin a young gintleman fr'm Harvard threw a sledge hammer wan mile, two inches. A fine la-ad, that Harvard man, but if throwin' th' hammer's spoort, thin th' rowlin' mills is th' athletic cintre iv our belovid counthry. Whin an Englishman jumped further thin another la-ad, me frind th' Ice-box, says he: 'H'yah, h'yah!' So whin an American la-ad lept up in th' air as though he'd been caught be th' anchor iv a baloon, I says: 'H'yah, h'yah!' too. Whin a sign iv th' effete aristocracy iv England done up sivral free-bor-rn Americans fr'm Boston in a fut r-race, me frind the Farthest North, he grabs his wan gla.s.s eye an' says he: 'Well r-run, Cambridge!' he says; 'Well r-run,' he says. An' 'Well r-run, whativer colledge ye're fr'm,' says I, whin wan iv our la-ads jumped over a fence ahead iv some eager but consarvative English scholars."

"Well, like a good game, it come three an' three. Three times had victhry perched upon our banner an' thrice--I see it in th' pa-aper--had th' flag iv th' mother counthry proclaimed that Englishmen can r-run. It was thryin' on me narves an' I wanted to yell whin th' tie was r-run off but th' man fr'm Matsachoosetts says: 'Contain ye'ersilf,' he says.

'Don't allow ye'er frinzied American spirit to get away with ye'er manners,' he says. 'Obsarve.' he says, 'th' ca'm with which our brother Anglo-Saxon views th' scene,' he says. 'Ah!' he says, 'they're off an'

be th' jumpin' George Wash'nton, I bet ye that fellow fr'm West Newton'll make that red-headed, long-legged, bread-ballasted Englishman look like thirty cints. 'Hurroo,' he says. 'Go on, Harvard,' he says.

'Go on,' he says. 'Rah, rah, rah,' he says. 'Ate him up, chew him up,'

he says. 'Harvard!' he says."

"I looked ar-round at th' ca'm dispa.s.syonate Englishman. He dhropped his eye-gla.s.s so he cud see th' race an' he had his cane in th' air. 'Well r-run,' he says. 'Well r-run, Cambridge,' he says. 'Pull him down,' he says. 'Run over him,' he says. 'Thrip him up,' he says. 'They can't r- run,' he says, 'except whin they're Ph'lipinos behind thim,' he says.

'Well r-run,' he says, an' he welted th' man fr'm Matsachoosetts with his cane. 'Be careful what ye're doin' there,' says th' Anglo-Saxon. 'If it wasn't f'r th' 'liance I'd punch ye'er head off,' he says. 'An','

says th' ca'm Englishman, 'if it wasn't f'r our common hurtage,' he says, 'I'd make ye jump over th' gran' stand,' he says. 'Th' English always cud beat us r-runnin',' says the sage iv Matsachoosetts. 'Th'

Americans start first an' finishes last,' says th' Englishman. An' I had to pull thim apart."

"Whether it is that our American colleejans spinds too much iv their lung power in provin' their devotion to what Hogan calls their Almy Matthers or not, I dinnaw, but annyhow, we had to dhrag th'

riprisintative iv our branch iv th' Anglo-Saxon an' Boheemyan civilization in th' three-mile race fr'm undher two thousand iv our cousins or brothers-in-law that was ca'mly an' soberly, but hurridly an'

noisily chargin' acrost th' thrack to cheer their own man."

"Me frind fr'm Matsachoosets was blue as we winded our way to th'

sthrangulation railway an' started back f'r home. 'I'm sorry,' he says, 'to lose me timper,' he says, 'but,' he says, 'afther all th' pretinded affection iv these people f'r us,' he says, 'an' afther all we've done f'r thim in Alaska an'--an' ivrywhere,' he says, 'an' thim sellin' us coal whin they might've sold it to th' Spanyards if th' Spanyards'd had th' money,' he says, 'to see th' conduct iv that coa.r.s.e an' brutal Englishman--' 'Th' wan that won th' r-race?' says I. 'Yes,' he says.

'No, I mean th' wan that lammed me with his cane,' he says. 'If it hadn't been,' he says, 'that we're united,' he says, 'be a common pathrimony,' he says, 'I'd've had his life,' he says. 'Ye wud so,' says I, 'an' ye're r-right,' I says. 'If all th' la-ads enthered into th' r- races with th' same spirit ye show now,' I says, 'th' English flag'd be dhroopin' fr'm th' staff, an' Cyrus Bodley iv Wadham, Ma.s.s.,'d be paintin' th' stars an' sthripes on th' Nelson monnymint,' I says. 'Whin we hated th' English,' I says, 'an' a yacht r-race was li'ble to end in a war message fr'm the prisidint, we used to bate thim,' I says. 'Now,'

says I, 'whin we're afraid to injure their feelin's,' I says, 'an' whin we 'pologise befure we punch, they bate us,' I says. 'They're used to 'pologisin' with wan hand an' punchin' with th' other,' I says. 'Th'

on'y way is th' way iv me cousin Mike,' I says. 'He was a gr-reat ra.s.sler an' whin he had a full Nelson on th' foolish man that wint again him, he used to say, 'Dear me, am I breakin' ye'er neck, I hope so.'"

"But th' Matsachoosetts man didn't see it that way. An' some time, I tell ye, Hinnissy, an' Englishman'll put th' shot wan fut further than wan iv our men th' Lord save us fr'm th' disgrace!--an' th' next day we'll invade Canada."

"We ought to do it, annyhow," said Mr. Hennessy stoutly.

"We wud," said Mr. Dooley, "if we were sure we cud lave it aftherwards."

VOICES FROM THE TOMB

"I don't think," said Mr. Dooley, "that me frind Willum Jennings Bryan is as good an orator as he was four years ago."

"He's th' grandest talker that's lived since Dan'l O'Connell," said Mr.

Hennessy.

"Ye've heerd thim all an' ye know," said Mr. Dooley. "But I tell ye he's gone back. D'ye mind th' time we wint down to th' Coleesyum an' he come out in a black alapaca coat an' pushed into th' air th' finest wurruds ye iver heerd spoke in all ye'er bor-rn days? 'Twas a balloon ascinsion an' th' las' days iv Pompey an' a blast on th' ca.n.a.l all in wan. I had to hold on to me chair to keep fr'm goin' up in th' air, an' I mind that if it hadn't been f'r a crack on th' head ye got fr'm a dillygate fr'm Westconsin ye'd 've been in th' hair iv Gin'ral Bragg. Dear me, will ye iver f'rget it, th' way he pumped it into th' pluthocrats? 'I tell ye here an' now,' he says, 'they'se as good business men in th' quite counthry graveyards iv Kansas as ye can find in the palathial lunch- counthers iv Wall street,' he says. 'Whin I see th' face iv that man who looks like a two-dollar pitcher iv Napolyeon at Saint Heleena,' he says, 'I say to mesilf, ye shall not--ye shall not'--what th' divvle is it ye shall not do, Hinnissy?"

"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.

"But nowadays he has tin wurruds f'r Thomas Jefferson an' th' rest iv th' sage crop to wan f'r himsilf. 'Fellow-dimmycrats,' he says, 'befure goin' anny farther, an' maybe farin' worse, I reluctantly accipt th'

nommynation f'r prisidint that I have caused ye to offer me,' he says, 'an' good luck to me,' he says. 'Seein' th' counthry in th' condition it is,' he says, 'I cannot rayfuse,' he says. 'I will now lave a subject that must be disagreeable to manny iv ye an' speak a few wurruds fr'm th' fathers iv th' party, iv whom there ar-re manny,' he says, 'though no shame to th' party, f'r all iv that,' he says. 'Thomas Jefferson, th'

sage iv Monticello, says: "Ye can't make a silk purse out iv a sow's ear," a remark that will at wanst recall th' sayin' iv Binjamin Franklin, th' sage iv Camden, that "th' fartherest way ar-round is th'

shortest way acrost." Nawthin' cud be thruer thin that onliss it is th'

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