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"He draws corks," put in Hennessey. "He's got a pull that bates--"
"Hennessey," interrupted Mr. Dooley, "since whin have ye been me funnygraph? Whin me cousin ashks me riddles, I'll tell her th' answers.
G' down-shtairs an' get a cloob san'wich an' ate yourself to death.
Char-rge it to--er--char-rge it to Misther Ra.s.sendyll here--me cousin Roop, be marritch. He looks liks a soft t'ing."
Hennessey subsided and showed an inclination to depart, and I, not liking to see a well-meaning person thus sat upon, tried to be pleasant to him.
"Don't go just yet, Mr. Hennessey," said I. "I should like to talk to you."
"Mr. Ra.s.sendyll," he replied, "I'm not goin' just yet, but an invitation to join farces with one iv the Hippojorium's cloob sandwhiches is too much for me. I must accept. Phwat is the noomber iv your shweet?"
I gave him the number, and Hennessey departed. Before he went, however, he comforted me somewhat by saying that he too was "a puppit in th'
han's iv an auter. Ye've got to do," said he, "whativer ye're sint t'
do. I'm told ye've killed a million Germans--bless ye!--but ye're nawthin' but a facthory hand afther all. I'm th' background iv Dooley.
If Dooley wants to be smar-rt, I've got t' play th' fool. It's the same with you; only you've had yer chance at a printcess, later on pla-acin'
the la-ady in a 'nonymous p'sition--which is enough for anny man, Dooley or no Dooley."
Hennessey departed in search of his club sandwich, which was subsequently alluded to in my bill, and for which I paid with pleasure, for Hennessey is a good fellow. I then found myself listening to the conversation between Dolly and Dooley.
"Roscommon, of course," Dolly was saying. What marvellous adaptability that woman has! "How could you think, my dear cousin, that I belonged to the farmer Dooleys?"
"I t'ought as much," said Mr. Dooley, genially, "now that I've seen ye.
Whin you put th' wor-rds 'at home' on yer car-rd, I had me doots. No Dooley iv th' right sor-rt iver liked annyt'ing a landlord gave him; an'
whin y' expreshed satisfaction wid th' Hippojorium, I didn't at first t'ink ye was a true Dooley. Since I've seen ye, I love ye properly, ma'am--like th' cousin I am. I've read iv ye, just as I've read iv yer hoosband, Cousin Roopert here be marritch, in th' biojographies of Mr.
Ant'ny Hawp, an' while I cudn't help likin' ye, I must say I didn't t'ink ye was very deep on th' surface, an' when I read iv your elopin'
with Cousin Roop, I says to Hennessey, I says, 'Hennessey,' I says, 'that's all right, they'd bote iv 'em better die, but let us not be asas.h.i.+nators,' I says; 'let 'em be joined in marritch. That's punishment enough,' I says to Hennessey. Ye see, Miss Dooley, I have been marrit meself."
"But I have found married life far from punishment," I heard Dolly say.
"I fear you're a sad pessimist, Mr. Dooley," she added.
"I'm not," Mr. Dooley replied. "I'm a Jimmycrat out an' out, if ye refer to me politics; but if your remark is a reflection on me religion, let me tell ye, ma'am, that, like all me countrymen in this beautiful land, I'm a Uni-tarrian, an' prood iv it."
I ventured to interpose at this point.
"Dooley," said I, "your cousin Roop, as you call him, is very glad to meet you, whatever your politics or your religion."
"Mosht people are," said he, dryly.
"That shows good taste," said I. "But how about your book? It has been accepted on the strength of its ill.u.s.trations, you say. How about them?
Can we see them anywhere? Are they on exhibition?"
"You can not only see thim, but you can drink 'em free anny time you come out to Archie Road," Dooley replied, cordially.
"Drink--a picture?" I asked.
[Ill.u.s.tration: "'KAPE YOUR HOOSBAND HOME'"]
"Yis," said Dooley. "Didn't ye iver hear iv dhrinkin' in a picture, Cousin Roopert? Didn't ye hear th' tark about th' 'Angelus' whin 'twas here? Ye cud hear th' bells ringin' troo th' paint iv it. Ye cud almost hear th' couple in front just back iv th' varnish quar'lin as t'whether 'twas th' Angelus er the facthery bell that was goin' off. 'Twas big an' little felt th' inflooance iv Misther Miller's jaynius, just be lukin' at ut--though as fer me, th' fir-rst time I see the t'ing I says, says I, 'Is ut lukin' for bait to go fis.h.i.+n' with they are?' I says.
'Can't ye hear the pealin' iv the bells?' says Hennessey, who was with me. 'That an' more,' I says. 'I can hear the pealin' o' th' petayties,'
I says. 'Do ye dhrink in th' feelin' iv it?' says Hennessey. 'Naw, t'ank ye,' I says. 'I'm not thirsty,' I says. 'Besides, I've swore off dhrinkin' ile-paintin's,' I says. 'Wathercoolers is gud enough fer me,'
I says. An' wid that we wint back to the Road. But that was th' fir-rst time I iver heard iv dhrinkin' a work iv ar-rt."
"But some of the things you--ah--you Americans drink," put in Dolly, "are works of art, my dear Mr. Dooley. Your cousin Rupert gave me a c.o.c.ktail at dinner last night--"
"Ye've hit ut, Miss Dooley," returned the philosopher, with a beautiful enthusiasm. "Ye've hit ut square. I see now y're a thrue Dooley. An'
wid yer kind permission I'll dedicate me book to ye. Ut's c.o.c.ktails that book's about, ma'am. _Fifty c.o.c.ktails I Have Met_ is th' na-ame iv ut.
An' whin I submitted th' mannyscrip' wid th' ill.u.s.thrations to the publisher, he dhrank 'em all, an' he says, 'Dooley,' he says, 'ut's a go. I'll do yer book,' he says, 'an' I'll pay ye wan hoondred an'
siventy-five per cent.,' he says. 'Set 'em up again, Dooley,' he says; an' I mixed 'em. 'I t'ink, Dooley,' he says, afther goin' troo th'
ill.u.s.thrations th' second toime--'I t'ink,' he says, 'ye'd ought to get two hoondred an' wan per cent. on th' retail price iv th' book,' he says. 'Can't I take a bottle iv these ill.u.s.thrations to me office?' he says. 'I'd like to look 'em over,' he says; an' I mixed 'im up a quar-rt iv th' ill.u.s.thrations to th' chapther on th' Mar-rtinney, an' sent him back to his partner in th' ambylanch."
[Ill.u.s.tration: MIXING ILl.u.s.tRATIONS]
"I shall look forward to the publication of your book with much interest, Mr. Dooley," said Dolly. "Now that I have discovered our cousins.h.i.+p, I am even more interested in you than I was before; and let me tell you that, before I met you, I thought of you as the most vital figure in American humor that has been produced in many years."
"I know nothin' iv American humor," said Dooley, "for I haven't met anny lately, an' I know nothin' iv victuals save what I ate, an' me appyt.i.te is as satisfoid wid itself as Hobson is wid th' kisses brawt onto him by th' sinkin' iv th' Merrimickinley. But for you an' Misther Ra.s.sendyll, ma'am, I've nothin' but good wishes an' ah--ill.u.s.thrations to me book whenever ye give yer orders. Kape your hoosband home, Miss Dooley," he added. "He's sc.r.a.pped wanst too often already wi' th' Ruraltarriers, an'
he's been killed off wanst by Mr. Ant'ny Hawp; but he'll niver die if ye only kape him home. If he goes out he'll git fightin' agin. If he attimpts a sayquil to the sayquil, he's dead sure enough!"
And with this Dolly and Dooley parted.
For myself, Rupert Ra.s.sendyll, I think Dooley's advice was good, and as long as Dolly will keep me home, I'll stay. For is it not better to be the happy husband of Dolly of the Dialogues, than to be going about like a knight of the Middle Ages clad in the evening dress of the nineteenth century, doing impossible things?
As for Dooley's impression of Dolly, I can only quote what I heard he had said after meeting her.
"She's a Dooley sure," said he, being novel to compliment. And I am glad she is, for despite the charms of Flavia of pleasant memory, there's n.o.body like Dolly for me, and if Dolly can only be acknowledged by the Dooleys, her fame, I am absolutely confident, is a.s.sured.
IX
IN WHICH YELLOW JOURNALISM CREEPS IN
The applause which followed the reading of the Dooley Dialogue showed very clearly that, among the diners at least, neither Dooley nor Dolly had waned in popularity. If the dilution, the faint echo of the originals, evoked such applause, how potent must have been the genius of the men who first gave life to Dooley and the fair Dolly!
"That's good stuff, Greenwich," said Billie Jones. "You must have eaten a particularly digestible meal. Now for the tenth ball. Who has it?"
"I," said d.i.c.k Sn.o.bbe, rising majestically from his chair. "And I can tell you what it is; I had a tough time of it in my dream, as you will perceive when I recite to you the story of my experiences at the battle of Manila."
"Great Scott, d.i.c.k!" cried Bedford Parke. "You weren't in that, were you?"
"Sir," returned d.i.c.k, "I was not only _in_ it, I was the thing itself. I was the war correspondent of the Sunday _Whirnal_, attached to Dewey's fleet."
Whereupon the talented Mr. Sn.o.bbe proceeded to read the following cable despatch from the special correspondent of the _Whirnal_:
MANILA FALLS THE SPANISH FLEET DESTROYED THE SPECIAL CORRESPONDENT OF THE _WHIRNAL_ AIDED BY COMMODORE DEWEY AND HIS FLEET CAPTURES THE PHILIPPINES
[Ill.u.s.tration: THE s.h.i.+P'S BARBER AT WORK]