Mr. Dooley's Philosophy by Finley Peter Dunne (novel books to read txt) 📗

“Be th' time th' Chinese gets through with this here job o' theirs,” said Mr. Dooley, “they'll know a thing or two about good manners an' Christyan idees.”

“They need thim,” said Mr. Hennessy.

“They do so,” said Mr. Dooley. “An' they'll get thim. By an' by th' allied foorces will proceed to Peking. It may not be in ye'er life time or in mine, or in th' life time iv th' ministhers, Hinnissy. They ar-re in no hurry. Th' ministhers ar-re as comfortable as they can be on a dite iv polo ponies an' bamboo, an' they have exercise enough dodgin' cannon balls to have no fear iv indygisthion. They'se no need of haste. Th' allied foorces must take no step forward while wan ar-rmed foe survives. It was rayported last week that th' advance had begun, but on sindin' out scouts 'twas discovered that th' asphalt road to th' capital was not r-ready an' th' gallant sojer boys was afraid to risk their beecycles on a defictive pavement. Thin th' parlor cars ordhered be th' Rooshan admiral has not arrived an' wan iv th' Frinch gin'rals lost an omelette, or whativer 'tis they wear on their shouldhers, an' he won't budge till it can be replaced fr'm Pahrs. A sthrong corps iv miners an' sappers has gone ahead f'r to lo-cate good resthrants on th' line iv march, but th' weather is cloudy an' th' silk umbrellys haven't arrived, an' they'se supposed to be four hundhred millyon Chiny-men with pinwheels an' Roman candles blockin' th' way, so th' advance has been postponed indifinitely. Th' American foorces is r-ready f'r to start immejately, but they ar-re not there yet. Th' British gin'ral is waitin' f'r th' Victorya cross befure he does annything, an' th' Japanese an' th' Rooshan is dancin' up an' down sayin' 'Afther you, me boy.'”

“But afther awhile, whin th' frost is on th' pumpkin an' th' corn is in th' shock, whin th' roads has been repaired, an' ivry gin'ral's lookin' his best, an' in no danger iv a cold on th' chist, they'll prance away. An' whin they get to th' city iv Peking a fine cillybration is planned be th' mission'ries. I see th' programme in th' pa-aper: First day, 10 A.M., prayers be th' allied mission'ries; 1 P.M., massacree iv the impress an' rile fam'ly; sicond day, 10 A.M., scatthrin' iv remains iv former kings; 11 A.M., disecration iv graves gin'rally; 2 P.M., massacree iv all gin'rals an' coort officials; third day, 12 noon, burnin' iv Peking; foorth day, gran' pop'lar massacree an' division iv territ'ry, th' cillybration to close with a rough-an'-tumble fight among th' allies.”

“'Twill be a gr-reat occasion, Hinnissy, an' be-dad I'd like to be there to see it. Ye can't go too sthrong again' th' Chinee. Me frind th' impror iv Germany put it right. 'Brave boys,' says he, 'ye ar-re goin' out now,' he says, 'f'r to carry th' light iv Christyanity,' he says, 'an' th' teachin's iv th' German Michael,' he says, 'to th' benighted haythen beyant,' he says. 'Me an' Mike is watchin' ye' he says, 'an' we ixpict ye to do ye'er duty,' he says. 'Through you,' he says, 'I propose to smash th' vile Chinee with me mailed fist,' he says. 'This is no six-ounce glove fight, but demands a lunch-hook done up in eight-inch armor plate,' he says. 'Whin ye get among th' Chinee,' he says, 'raymimber that ye ar-re the van guard iv Christyanity,' he says, 'an' stick ye'er baynet through ivry hated infidel ye see,' he says. 'Lave thim undherstand what our westhren civilization means,' he says, 'an' prod thim good an' hard,' he says. 'Open their heads with ye'er good German swords to Eu-ropyan culture an' refinement,' he says. 'Spare no man that wears a pigtail,' he says. 'An,' he says, 'me an' th' German Michael will smile on ye as ye kick th' linin' out iv th' dhragon an' plant on th' walls iv Peking th' banner,' he says, 'iv th' cross, an',' he says, 'th' double cross,' he says. 'An' if be chance ye shud pick up a little land be th' way, don't lave e'er a Frinchman or Rooshan take it fr'm ye, or ye'll feel me specyal delivery hand on th' back iv ye'er neck in a way that'll do ye no kind iv good. Hock German Michael,' he says, 'hock me gran'father, hoch th' penny postage fist,' he says, 'hock mesilf,' he says. An th' German impror wint back to his bedroom f'r to wurruk on th' book he's goin' to br-ring out nex' year to take th' place iv th' bible.

“He's th' boy f'r me money. Whin th' German throops takes their part in th' desthruction iv Peking they'll be none iv th' allied foorces 'll stick deeper or throw th' backbone iv th' impress' ol' father higher thin th' la-ads fr'm th' home iv th' sausage. I hope th' cillybration 'll occur on Chris'mas day. I'd like to hear th' sojers singin' 'Gawd r-rest ye, merry Chinnymen' as they punchered thim with a baynit.”

“'Twill be a good thing,” said Mr. Hennessy.

“It will that,” said Mr. Dooley.

“'Twill civilize th' Chinnymen,” said Mr. Hennessy.

“'Twill civilize thim stiff,” said Mr. Dooley. “An' it may not be a bad thing f'r th' r-rest iv th' wurruld. Perhaps contack with th' Chinee may civlize th' Germans.”