Observations by Mr. Dooley - Finley Peter Dunne (good novels to read TXT) 📗
- Author: Finley Peter Dunne
Book online «Observations by Mr. Dooley - Finley Peter Dunne (good novels to read TXT) 📗». Author Finley Peter Dunne
carryer an' displayed all th' agility which won him so much applause arlier in th' year.
"'Th' Pickaways carrid off all th' honors in th' sewer-diggin' contest yesterdah, defatin' th' Spadewells be five holes to wan. Th' shovel wurruk iv Cassidy th' banker was spicially noticeable. Th' colors iv th' Pickaways was red flannel undhershirts an' dark brown trousers.
"'Raycreations iv rich men: Jawn W. Grates an' J. Pierpont Morgan ar-re to have a five days' shinglin' contest at Narragansett Pier. George Gold is thrainin' f'r th' autumn plumbin' jimkanny. Mitchigan avnoo is tore up fr'm Van Buren sthreet to th' belt line in priparation f'r th' contest in sthreet layin'between mimbers iv th' Assocyation iv More-Thin-Rich Spoorts. Th' sledge teams is completed but a few good tampers an' wather men is needed.'
"An' why not, Hinnissy? If 'tis fun to wurruk why not do some rale wurruk? If 'tis spoort to run an autymobill, why not run a locymotive? If dhrivin' a horse in a cart is a game, why not dhrive a delivery wagon an' carry things around? Sure, I s'pose th' raison a rich man can't undherstand why wages shud go higher is because th' rich can't see why annybody shud be paid f'r annything so amusin' as wurruk. I bet ye Higgins is wondherin' at this moment why he was paid so much f'r puttin' rings around a bar'l.
"No, sir, what's a rich man's raycreation is a poor man's wurruk. Th' poor ar-re th' on'y people that know how to injye wealth. Me idee iv settin' things sthraight is to have th' rich who wurruk because they like it, do th' wurruk f'r th' poor who wud rather rest. I'll be happy th' day I see wan iv th' Hankerbilts pushin' ye'er little go-cart up th' platform while ye set in th' shade iv a three an' cheer him on his way. I'm sure he'd do it if ye called it a spoort an' tol him th' first man to th' dump wud be entitled to do it over again against sthronger men nex' week. Wud ye give him a tin cup that he cud put his name on? Wud ye, Hinnissy? I'm sure ye wud."
"Why do they do it?" asked Mr. Hennessy.
"I dinnaw," said Mr. Dooley, "onless it is that th' wan great object iv ivry man's life is to get tired enough to sleep. Ivrything seems to be some kind iv wurruk. Wurruk is wurruk if ye're paid to do it an' it's pleasure if ye pay to be allowed to do it."
The Names of a Week
"What's goin' on this week in th' papers?" asked Mr. Hennessy.
"Ivrything," said Mr. Dooley. "It's been a turbylint week. I can hardly sleep iv nights thinkin' iv th' doin's iv people. Th' campinily at Venice has fallen down. 'Twas built in 1604 be th' Beezantiums an' raystored in 1402 be th' Dogs. It fell down because th' foundations was weak, because th' wind blew, because th' beautiful figure iv th' goolden angel on top iv it was fifteen feet high. It will be rebuilt or maybe not. Th' king iv Italy has given thirty-three billion liars to put it up again, an' siv'ral ladin' American archytects have offered to do th' job, makin' an office buildin' iv it. Th' campinily was wan iv th' proudest monymints iv Italy an' was used as a bell-tower at times, an' at other times as a gazabo where anny American cud take a peek at th' gran' canal an' compare it with th' Erie, th' Pannyma an' th' dhrainage iv the same name.
"Th' king iv England is betther. He's off in his yacht. So ar-re Laking, Treves, Smith, Barlow, Jones, Casey, Lister, thank Hiven! A hard life is science. Th' Hon'rable Joseph Choate is raycoverin' more slowly. He still sobs occas'nally in his sleep an' has ordhered all th' undher sicreties to have their vermyform appindixes raymoved as a token iv rayspict f'r th' sthricken nation. Th' Hon'rable Whitelaw Reid is havin' a cast iv his knee breeches made, which will be exhibited in New York durin' th' comin' winter.
"Me frind, J. Pierpont Morgan, has been takin' dinner with th' Impror Willum. It is undherstud he will presint him to th' Methropolytan Museem iv Art. There are said to be worse things there.
"Lord Salisberry has thrun up his job. Lord Salisberry was wan iv th' grandest an' mos' succissful statesmen iv modhren times. He niver did annything. He is succeeded be his nevvew, Misther Balfour, if I get th' name right, who has done less. It is expicted that Misther Balfour will have a good time. On rayceivin' th' congrathylations iv his colleague, Misther Chamberlain, he bought himsilf a rayvolver an' took out a policy on his life.
"A lady down east woke her husband up to tell him there was a burglar in th' house. Th' foolish woman. They'se always burglars in th' house. That's what burglars are f'r, an' houses. Instead iv argyin' th' pint in a loud voice, coughin' an' givin' th' burglar a chance to lave with dignity, this man got up an' was kilt. Now th' pa-apers with th' assistance iv th' officers iv th' law has discovered that th' lady took a boat ride with a gintleman frind in th' summer iv sixty-two, that she wanst quarreled with her husband about th' price iv a hat, that wan iv her lower teeth is plugged, that she wears a switch an' that she weeps whin she sees her childher. They'se a moral in this. It's ayether don't wake a man up out iv a sound sleep, or don't get out iv bed till ye have to, or don't bother a burglar whin ye see he's busy, or kill th' iditor. I don't know which it is.
"Willum Jennings Bryan is readin' me frind Grover Cleveland out iv th' party. He's usin' the Commoner to read him out. That's a sure way.
"Mary MeLane has been in town. I didn't see her, me place not bein' a raysort f'r th' young an' yearnin', an' especially me duckin' all lithry ladies iv whativer sex. Mary McLane is th' author iv a book called: 'Whin I am older I'll know betther.' Ye ought to read it, Hinnissy.
"Th' Newport season is opened with gr-reat gayety an' th' aim iv rayturnin' husbands is much more sure.
"Gin'ral Bragg fr'm up in Wisconsin has been gettin' into throuble with our haughty allies, th' Cubians, he writin' home to his wife that ye might as well thry to make a whistle out iv a pig's tail as a dacint man out iv a Cubian. Gin'ral Bragg will be bounced an' he ought to be. He don't belong in pollytics. His place is iditor iv a losin' newspaper.
"Gov'nor Taft has been in Rome showin' th' wurruld how succissful, sthraightforward, downright, outspoken, manly, frank, fourteen ounces to th' pound American business dalings can be again' th' worn-out di-plomacy iv th' papal coort. Whin last heerd fr'm this astoot an' able man, backed up be th' advice iv Elihoo Root iv York state, was makin' his way tow'rd Manila on foot, an' siv'ral mimbers iv th' colledge iv cardinals was heerd to regret that American statesmen were so thin they cudden't find anything to fit thim in his thrunk.
"Cholera is ragin' in th' Ph'lippeens vice Gin'ral Jake Smith, raymoved.
"Th' stock market is boomin' an' business has become so dull elsewhere that some iv th' best known outside operators ar-re obliged to increase th' depth iv th' goold coatin' on th' brick to nearly an inch.
"Th' capital iv th' nation has raymoved to Eyesther Bay, a city on th' north shore iv Long Island, with a popylation iv three millyion clams, an' a number iv mosquitos with pianola attachments an' steel rams. There day be day th' head iv th' nation thransacts th' nation's business as follows: four A.M., a plunge into th' salt, salt sea an' a swim iv twenty miles; five A.M., horse-back ride, th' prisidint insthructin' his two sons, aged two and four rayspictively, to jump th' first Methodist church without knockin' off th' shingles; six A.M., wrestles with a thrained grizzly bear; sivin A.M., breakfast; eight A.M., Indyan clubs; nine A.M., boxes with Sharkey; tin A.M., bates th' tinnis champeen; iliven A.M., rayceives a band iv rough riders an' person'lly supervises th' sindin' iv th' ambylance to look afther th' injured in th' village; noon, dinner with Sharkey, Oscar Featherstone, th' champeen roller-skater iv Harvard, '98, Pro-fissor McGlue, th' archyologist, Lord Dum de Dum, Mike Kehoe, Immanuel Kant Gumbo, th' naygro pote, Horrible Hank, t' bad lands scout, Sinitor Lodge, Lucy Emerson Tick, th' writer on female sufferage, Mud-in-the-Eye, th' chief iv th' Ogallas, Gin'ral Powell Clayton, th' Mexican mine expert, four rough riders with their spurs on, th' Ambassadure iv France an' th' Cinquovasti fam'ly, jugglers. Th' conversation, we larn fr'm wan iv th' guests who's our spoortin' iditor, was jined in be th' prisidint an' dealt with art, boxin', lithrachoor, horse-breakin', science, shootin', pollytics, how to kill a mountain line, di-plomacy, lobbing, pothry, th' pivot blow, rayform, an' th' campaign in Cubia. Whin our rayporther was dhriven off th' premises be wan iv th' rough riders, th' head iv th' nation was tachin' Lord Dum de Dum an' Sicrety Hay how to do a hand-spring, an' th' other guests was scattered about th' lawn, boxin', rasslin', swingin' on th' thrapeze, ridin' th' buckin' bronco an' shootin' at th' naygro pote f'r th' dhrinks--in short enjyin' an ideel day in th' counthry.
"An' that's all th' news," said Mr. Dooley. "There ye ar-re jus' as if ye cud read. That's all that's happened. Ain't I a good newspaper? Not a dull line in me. Sind in ye'er small ads."
"Sure, all that's no news," said Mr. Hennessy, discontentedly. "Hasn't there annything happened? Hasn't anny wan been--been kilt?"
"There ye ar-re," said Mr. Dooley. "Be news ye mane misfortune. I suppose near ivry wan does. What's wan man's news is another man's throubles. In these hot days, I'd like to see a pa-aper with nawthin' in it but affectionate wives an' loyal husbands an' prosp'rous, smilin' people an' money in th' bank an' three a day. That's what I'm lookin' f'r in th' hot weather."
"Th' newspapers have got to print what happens," said Mr. Hennessy.
"No," said Mr. Dooley, "they've got to print what's diff'rent. Whiniver they begin to put headlines on happiness, contint, varchoo, an' charity, I'll know things is goin' as wrong with this counthry as I think they ar-re ivry naytional campaign."
The End of the War
"Why did th' Boers quit fightin'?" asked Mr. Hennessy.
"Th' supply iv British gin'rals give out," said Mr. Dooley. "They were fin'lly crushed be th' surrindher iv Gin'ral Lord Mechoon.
"Up to that time th' British had niver gained anny important advantage. They'd surrindhered ninety or a hundherd thousan' private sojery, thirty or forty colonels, near all th' officers iv th' guards, th' Northumberland Fusileers over an' over again, an' Winston Churchill; they'd hurled gr-reat masses iv th' Impeeryal Yeomanry into th' prison camps iv th' Boers; they'd surrindhered rifles, an' ammunition an' pompons an' mules, but nary a British gin'ral among thim. Although a smaller foorce, Hinnissy, th' Boers had th' advantage iv knowin' ivry foot iv th' ground they
"'Th' Pickaways carrid off all th' honors in th' sewer-diggin' contest yesterdah, defatin' th' Spadewells be five holes to wan. Th' shovel wurruk iv Cassidy th' banker was spicially noticeable. Th' colors iv th' Pickaways was red flannel undhershirts an' dark brown trousers.
"'Raycreations iv rich men: Jawn W. Grates an' J. Pierpont Morgan ar-re to have a five days' shinglin' contest at Narragansett Pier. George Gold is thrainin' f'r th' autumn plumbin' jimkanny. Mitchigan avnoo is tore up fr'm Van Buren sthreet to th' belt line in priparation f'r th' contest in sthreet layin'between mimbers iv th' Assocyation iv More-Thin-Rich Spoorts. Th' sledge teams is completed but a few good tampers an' wather men is needed.'
"An' why not, Hinnissy? If 'tis fun to wurruk why not do some rale wurruk? If 'tis spoort to run an autymobill, why not run a locymotive? If dhrivin' a horse in a cart is a game, why not dhrive a delivery wagon an' carry things around? Sure, I s'pose th' raison a rich man can't undherstand why wages shud go higher is because th' rich can't see why annybody shud be paid f'r annything so amusin' as wurruk. I bet ye Higgins is wondherin' at this moment why he was paid so much f'r puttin' rings around a bar'l.
"No, sir, what's a rich man's raycreation is a poor man's wurruk. Th' poor ar-re th' on'y people that know how to injye wealth. Me idee iv settin' things sthraight is to have th' rich who wurruk because they like it, do th' wurruk f'r th' poor who wud rather rest. I'll be happy th' day I see wan iv th' Hankerbilts pushin' ye'er little go-cart up th' platform while ye set in th' shade iv a three an' cheer him on his way. I'm sure he'd do it if ye called it a spoort an' tol him th' first man to th' dump wud be entitled to do it over again against sthronger men nex' week. Wud ye give him a tin cup that he cud put his name on? Wud ye, Hinnissy? I'm sure ye wud."
"Why do they do it?" asked Mr. Hennessy.
"I dinnaw," said Mr. Dooley, "onless it is that th' wan great object iv ivry man's life is to get tired enough to sleep. Ivrything seems to be some kind iv wurruk. Wurruk is wurruk if ye're paid to do it an' it's pleasure if ye pay to be allowed to do it."
The Names of a Week
"What's goin' on this week in th' papers?" asked Mr. Hennessy.
"Ivrything," said Mr. Dooley. "It's been a turbylint week. I can hardly sleep iv nights thinkin' iv th' doin's iv people. Th' campinily at Venice has fallen down. 'Twas built in 1604 be th' Beezantiums an' raystored in 1402 be th' Dogs. It fell down because th' foundations was weak, because th' wind blew, because th' beautiful figure iv th' goolden angel on top iv it was fifteen feet high. It will be rebuilt or maybe not. Th' king iv Italy has given thirty-three billion liars to put it up again, an' siv'ral ladin' American archytects have offered to do th' job, makin' an office buildin' iv it. Th' campinily was wan iv th' proudest monymints iv Italy an' was used as a bell-tower at times, an' at other times as a gazabo where anny American cud take a peek at th' gran' canal an' compare it with th' Erie, th' Pannyma an' th' dhrainage iv the same name.
"Th' king iv England is betther. He's off in his yacht. So ar-re Laking, Treves, Smith, Barlow, Jones, Casey, Lister, thank Hiven! A hard life is science. Th' Hon'rable Joseph Choate is raycoverin' more slowly. He still sobs occas'nally in his sleep an' has ordhered all th' undher sicreties to have their vermyform appindixes raymoved as a token iv rayspict f'r th' sthricken nation. Th' Hon'rable Whitelaw Reid is havin' a cast iv his knee breeches made, which will be exhibited in New York durin' th' comin' winter.
"Me frind, J. Pierpont Morgan, has been takin' dinner with th' Impror Willum. It is undherstud he will presint him to th' Methropolytan Museem iv Art. There are said to be worse things there.
"Lord Salisberry has thrun up his job. Lord Salisberry was wan iv th' grandest an' mos' succissful statesmen iv modhren times. He niver did annything. He is succeeded be his nevvew, Misther Balfour, if I get th' name right, who has done less. It is expicted that Misther Balfour will have a good time. On rayceivin' th' congrathylations iv his colleague, Misther Chamberlain, he bought himsilf a rayvolver an' took out a policy on his life.
"A lady down east woke her husband up to tell him there was a burglar in th' house. Th' foolish woman. They'se always burglars in th' house. That's what burglars are f'r, an' houses. Instead iv argyin' th' pint in a loud voice, coughin' an' givin' th' burglar a chance to lave with dignity, this man got up an' was kilt. Now th' pa-apers with th' assistance iv th' officers iv th' law has discovered that th' lady took a boat ride with a gintleman frind in th' summer iv sixty-two, that she wanst quarreled with her husband about th' price iv a hat, that wan iv her lower teeth is plugged, that she wears a switch an' that she weeps whin she sees her childher. They'se a moral in this. It's ayether don't wake a man up out iv a sound sleep, or don't get out iv bed till ye have to, or don't bother a burglar whin ye see he's busy, or kill th' iditor. I don't know which it is.
"Willum Jennings Bryan is readin' me frind Grover Cleveland out iv th' party. He's usin' the Commoner to read him out. That's a sure way.
"Mary MeLane has been in town. I didn't see her, me place not bein' a raysort f'r th' young an' yearnin', an' especially me duckin' all lithry ladies iv whativer sex. Mary McLane is th' author iv a book called: 'Whin I am older I'll know betther.' Ye ought to read it, Hinnissy.
"Th' Newport season is opened with gr-reat gayety an' th' aim iv rayturnin' husbands is much more sure.
"Gin'ral Bragg fr'm up in Wisconsin has been gettin' into throuble with our haughty allies, th' Cubians, he writin' home to his wife that ye might as well thry to make a whistle out iv a pig's tail as a dacint man out iv a Cubian. Gin'ral Bragg will be bounced an' he ought to be. He don't belong in pollytics. His place is iditor iv a losin' newspaper.
"Gov'nor Taft has been in Rome showin' th' wurruld how succissful, sthraightforward, downright, outspoken, manly, frank, fourteen ounces to th' pound American business dalings can be again' th' worn-out di-plomacy iv th' papal coort. Whin last heerd fr'm this astoot an' able man, backed up be th' advice iv Elihoo Root iv York state, was makin' his way tow'rd Manila on foot, an' siv'ral mimbers iv th' colledge iv cardinals was heerd to regret that American statesmen were so thin they cudden't find anything to fit thim in his thrunk.
"Cholera is ragin' in th' Ph'lippeens vice Gin'ral Jake Smith, raymoved.
"Th' stock market is boomin' an' business has become so dull elsewhere that some iv th' best known outside operators ar-re obliged to increase th' depth iv th' goold coatin' on th' brick to nearly an inch.
"Th' capital iv th' nation has raymoved to Eyesther Bay, a city on th' north shore iv Long Island, with a popylation iv three millyion clams, an' a number iv mosquitos with pianola attachments an' steel rams. There day be day th' head iv th' nation thransacts th' nation's business as follows: four A.M., a plunge into th' salt, salt sea an' a swim iv twenty miles; five A.M., horse-back ride, th' prisidint insthructin' his two sons, aged two and four rayspictively, to jump th' first Methodist church without knockin' off th' shingles; six A.M., wrestles with a thrained grizzly bear; sivin A.M., breakfast; eight A.M., Indyan clubs; nine A.M., boxes with Sharkey; tin A.M., bates th' tinnis champeen; iliven A.M., rayceives a band iv rough riders an' person'lly supervises th' sindin' iv th' ambylance to look afther th' injured in th' village; noon, dinner with Sharkey, Oscar Featherstone, th' champeen roller-skater iv Harvard, '98, Pro-fissor McGlue, th' archyologist, Lord Dum de Dum, Mike Kehoe, Immanuel Kant Gumbo, th' naygro pote, Horrible Hank, t' bad lands scout, Sinitor Lodge, Lucy Emerson Tick, th' writer on female sufferage, Mud-in-the-Eye, th' chief iv th' Ogallas, Gin'ral Powell Clayton, th' Mexican mine expert, four rough riders with their spurs on, th' Ambassadure iv France an' th' Cinquovasti fam'ly, jugglers. Th' conversation, we larn fr'm wan iv th' guests who's our spoortin' iditor, was jined in be th' prisidint an' dealt with art, boxin', lithrachoor, horse-breakin', science, shootin', pollytics, how to kill a mountain line, di-plomacy, lobbing, pothry, th' pivot blow, rayform, an' th' campaign in Cubia. Whin our rayporther was dhriven off th' premises be wan iv th' rough riders, th' head iv th' nation was tachin' Lord Dum de Dum an' Sicrety Hay how to do a hand-spring, an' th' other guests was scattered about th' lawn, boxin', rasslin', swingin' on th' thrapeze, ridin' th' buckin' bronco an' shootin' at th' naygro pote f'r th' dhrinks--in short enjyin' an ideel day in th' counthry.
"An' that's all th' news," said Mr. Dooley. "There ye ar-re jus' as if ye cud read. That's all that's happened. Ain't I a good newspaper? Not a dull line in me. Sind in ye'er small ads."
"Sure, all that's no news," said Mr. Hennessy, discontentedly. "Hasn't there annything happened? Hasn't anny wan been--been kilt?"
"There ye ar-re," said Mr. Dooley. "Be news ye mane misfortune. I suppose near ivry wan does. What's wan man's news is another man's throubles. In these hot days, I'd like to see a pa-aper with nawthin' in it but affectionate wives an' loyal husbands an' prosp'rous, smilin' people an' money in th' bank an' three a day. That's what I'm lookin' f'r in th' hot weather."
"Th' newspapers have got to print what happens," said Mr. Hennessy.
"No," said Mr. Dooley, "they've got to print what's diff'rent. Whiniver they begin to put headlines on happiness, contint, varchoo, an' charity, I'll know things is goin' as wrong with this counthry as I think they ar-re ivry naytional campaign."
The End of the War
"Why did th' Boers quit fightin'?" asked Mr. Hennessy.
"Th' supply iv British gin'rals give out," said Mr. Dooley. "They were fin'lly crushed be th' surrindher iv Gin'ral Lord Mechoon.
"Up to that time th' British had niver gained anny important advantage. They'd surrindhered ninety or a hundherd thousan' private sojery, thirty or forty colonels, near all th' officers iv th' guards, th' Northumberland Fusileers over an' over again, an' Winston Churchill; they'd hurled gr-reat masses iv th' Impeeryal Yeomanry into th' prison camps iv th' Boers; they'd surrindhered rifles, an' ammunition an' pompons an' mules, but nary a British gin'ral among thim. Although a smaller foorce, Hinnissy, th' Boers had th' advantage iv knowin' ivry foot iv th' ground they
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