Mr. Dooley Says by Finley Peter Dunne (best contemporary novels .txt) 📗

that wants it. Undher th' circumstances all I ask is a gr-reat deal iv injustice an' much mercy. I do not ask to be acquitted be a jury iv me peers. I am a modest man an' I'll accipt me freedom fr'm th' humblest bailiff in th' land. I do not care to come triumphant out iv this ordeel an' repoort other cases f'r th' newspa-apers. All I ask is a block's start an' some wan holdin' th' polisman's coattails. I waive me right to be thried be an incorruptible, fair, an' onprejudiced Judge. Give me wan that's onfair an' prejudiced an' that ye can slip somethin' to.

"No, sir, whin a man's broke an' does something wrong, th' on'y temple iv justice he ought to get into is a freight car goin' West. Don't niver thrust that there tough-lookin' lady with th' soord in her hand an' th' handkerchief over her eyes. She may be blind, though I've seen thriles where she raised th' bandage an' winked at th' aujence—she may be blind, but 'tis th' fine sinse iv touch she has, an' if ye vinture into her lodgins an' she goes through ye'er pockets an' finds on'y th' pawnticket f'r th' watch ye stole off Hogan, she locks th' dure, takes off th' handkerchief, an' goes at ye with th' soord.

"But suppose ye have a little iv th' useful with ye. Ye br-reak into Hogan's house some night sufferin' fr'm an incontrollable impulse to take his watch. Don't get mad, now. I'm on'y supposin' all this. Ye wudden't take his watch. He has no watch. Well, he's sound asleep. Ye give him a good crack on th' head so he won't be disturbed, an' hook th' clock fr'm undher th' pillow. Th' next day ye're arristed. Th' pa-apers comes out with th' news: 'Haughty sign iv wealthy fam'ly steals watch fr'm awful Hogan. Full account iv dhreadful career iv th' victim. Unwritten law to be invoked,' an' there's an article to show that anny wan has a right to take Hogan's watch, that he was not a proper man to have th' care iv a watch, annyhow, an' that ye done well to hook it. This is always th' first step to'rd securin' cold justice f'r th' rich. Ye're next ilicted a mimber iv nearly all th' ministers' assocyations, an' finally, in ordher that th' law may be enfoorced without regard to persons, an expert witness is hired f'r ye.

"Th' thrile begins. Ye walk in with a quick, nervous sthride an' set th' watch be th' coort clock. 'Ar-re ye guilty or not guilty?' says th' clerk. 'Guilty an' glad iv it,' says ye'er lawyer amid cheers an' hisses. 'Have ye th' watch with ye?' says th' coort. 'I have,' says th' pris'ner, smilin' in his peculiar way. 'Lave me look at it,' says th' coort. 'I will not,' says the pris'ner, puttin' it back into his pocket. 'How ar-re ye goin' to defind this crook?' says th' Judge. 'We ar-re goin' to prove that at th' time he committed this crime he was insane,' says th' lawyer. 'I object,' says th' State's attorney. 'It is not legal to inthrajooce evidence iv insanity till th' proper foundations is established. Th' defince must prove that th' pris'ner has money. How do we know he isn't broke like th' rest iv us?' Th' coort: 'How much money have ye got?' The pris'ner: 'Two millyon dollars, but I expect more.' Th' coort: 'Objection overruled.'

"Th' expert is called. 'Doctor, what expeeryence have ye had among th' head cures?' 'I have been f'r forty years in an asylum.' 'As guest or landlord?' 'As both.' 'Now, doctor, I will ask you a question. Supposin' this pris'ner to be a man with a whole lot iv money, an' supposin' he wint to this house on th' night in question, an' suppose it was snowin', an' suppose it wasn't, an' suppose he turned fr'm th' right hand corner to th' left goin' upstairs, an' supposin' he wore a plug hat an' a pair iv skates, an' supposin' th' next day was Winsday—' 'I objict,' says th' State's attorney. 'Th' statues, with which me larned frind is no doubt familiar, though I be darned if he shows it, f'rbids th' mention iv th' days iv th' week.' 'Scratch out Winsday an' substichoot four o'clock in Janooary,' says th' coort. 'Now, how does th' sentence r-read?' 'Th' next day was four o'clock in Janooary—an' supposin' th' amount iv money, an' supposin' ye haven't got a very large salary holdin' th' chair iv conniption fits at th' college, an' supposin' ye don't get a cent onless ye answer r-right, I ask ye, on th' night in question whin th' pris'ner grabbed th' clock, was he or was he not funny at th' roof?' 'I objict to th' form iv question,' says th' State's attorney. 'In th' eighth sintince I move to sthrike out th' wurrud and as unconstitutional, unprofissyonal, an' conthry to th' laws iv evidence.' 'My Gawd, has my clint no rights in this coort?' says th' other lawyer. 'Ye bet he has,' says th' coort. 'We'll sthrike out th' wurrud and but well substichoot th' more proper wurrud "aloofness."

"'Did ye see th' pris'ner afther his arrest?' 'I did.' 'Where?' 'In th' pa-apers.' 'What was he doin'?' 'His back was tur-rned.' 'What did that indicate to ye?' 'That he had been sufferin' fr'm a variety iv tomaine >excelsis—' 'Greek wurruds,' says th' coort. 'Latin an' Greek,' says th' expert. 'Pro-ceed,' says th' coort. 'I come to th' conclusion,' says th' expert, 'that th' man, when he hooked th' watch, was sufferin' fr'm a sudden tempest in his head, a sudden explosion as it were, a sudden I don't know-what-th'-divvle-it-was, that kind iv wint off in his chimbley, like a storm at sea.' 'Was he in anny way bug befure th' crime?' 'Not a bit. He suffered fr'm warts whin a boy, which sometimes leads to bozimbral hoptocollographophiloplutomania, or what th' Germans call tantrums, but me gin'ral con-clusion was that he was perfectly sane all his life till this minnyit, an' that so much sanity wint to his head an' blew th' cover off.'

"'Has he been sane iver since?' says the lawyer. 'Ye'd betther have a care how ye answer that question, me boy,' says th' pris'ner, carelessly jingling th' loose change in his pocket. 'Sane?' says th' expert. 'Well, I shud think he was. Why, I can hardly imagine how he stayed feather-headed long enough to take th' villan's joolry. Sane, says ye? I don't mean anny disrespect to th' coort or th' bar, but if ye gintlemen had half as much good brains in ye'er head as he has, ye'd not be wastin' ye'er time here. There ain't a man in this counthry th' akel iv this gr-reat man. Talk about Dan'l Webster, he was an idyut compared with this joynt intelleck. No, sir, he's a fine, thoughtful, able, magnificent specimen iv man an' has been iver since between twelve four an' twelve four-an'-a-half on that fatal night. An' a good fellow at that.'

"'What d'ye propose to do to stand this here testymony off?' says th' Judge. 'I propose,' says th' State's attorney, 'to prove be some rale experts, men who have earned their repytations be testifyin' eight ways fr'm th' jack in a dozen criminal cases, that so far fr'm bein' insane on this particklar night, this was th' on'y time that he was perfeckly sane.' 'Oh, look here, Judge,' says Bedalia Sassyfrass iv _Th' Daily Fluff_, 'this here has gone far enough. Th' man's not guilty, an' if ye don't want a few remarks printed about ye, that'll do ye no good, ye'll let him off.' 'Don't pay anny attintion to what she says, Fitzy,' says another lady. 'Her decayed newspa-aper has no more circulation thin a cucumber. We expict ye to follow th' insthructions printed in our vallyable journal this mornin'.'

"'Sir,' says a tall man, risin' in his place, 'I am th' Riv'rend Thompson Jubb.' 'Not th' notoryous shepherd iv that name?' 'Th' same,' says th' Riv'rend Jubb. 'That lowly worker in th' vineyard iv th' Lord who astonished th' wurruld be atin' glass in th' pulpit an' havin' th' Bible tattooed on him. I wish th' privilege iv standin' on me head an' playin' "A charge to keep I have" on the accorjeen with me feet. 'Granted,' says th' coort. 'I will now charge th' jury as to th' law an' th' fact: I am all mixed up on th' law; th' fact is there's a mob outside waitin' to lynch ye if ye don't do what it wants. Th' coort will now adjourn be th' back dure.' 'Where's th' pris'ner?' says th' expert. 'He has gone to addhress a mothers' meetin',' says th' clerk. 'Thin I must be goin' too,' says th' expert. An' there ye ar-re."

"I'm glad that fellow got me off", said Mr. Hennessy, "but thim experts ar-re a bad lot. What's th' difference between that kind iv tistymony an' perjury?"

"Ye pay ye'er money an' take ye'er choice", said Mr. Dooley.

THE CALL OF THE WILD

"Well, sir," said Mr. Dooley, "I see me frind Tiddy Rosenfelt has been doin' a little lithry criticism, an' th' hospitals are full iv mangled authors. Th' next time wan iv thim nature authors goes out into th' woods lookin' f'r his prey he'll go on crutches."

"What's it about?" asked Mr. Hennessy.

"'Twas this way," said Mr. Dooley. "I have it fr'm Hogan, me lithry adviser. He keeps me posted on what's goin' on in lithrachoor, an' I do th' same f'r him on crime. I've always got a little something that's excitin' comin' to me, but this time he's made good. It seems, ye see, that a good manny iv th' la-ads that write th' books have been lavin' th' route iv th' throlley line an' takin' to th' woods. They quit Myrtle an' Clarence an' th' wrong done to Oscar Lumlovitch be th' brutal foreman iv lard tank nine, an' wint to wurruk on th' onhappy love affairs iv Carrie Boo, th' deer, an' th' throubles in th' domestic relations iv th' pan fish an' th' skate. F'r th' last year th' on'y books that Hogan has told me about have been wrote about animiles. I've always thought iv th' beasts iv th' forest prowlin' around an' takin' a leg off a man that'd been sint to Colorado f'r his lungs. But these boys tell me they're diff'rent in their home life. They fall in love, get marrid an' divoorced, bring up fam'lies, an' are supported or devoured be thim, as th' case may be, accumylate money, dodge taxes, dhrink to excess, an' in ivry way act like human bein's. I wudden't be surprised to know that a bear had a tillyphone in his room, an' that th' gopher complained iv his gas bills.

"Ivry time I go up into th' park to see me old frind th' illyphant I wondher what dhreams ar-re goin' on behind that nose iv his that he uses akelly as a garden hose, a derrick, or a knife an' fork. Is he recallin' th' happy days at Barnum's befure brutal man sunk an ice pick into him an' dhrove him to th' park? Is there some wan still there that he thinks iv? Is she alive, is she dead, does she iver dhream iv him as she ates her hay an' rubs her back agin th' bars iv her gilded cage? There's th' hippypotamus. He don't look to be full iv sintiment, but ye never can tell. Manny an achin' heart beats behind a cold an' sloppy exteeryor. Somewhere in sunny Africa a loving fam'ly may be waitin' fr him. Th' wallow at th' riverside is there, with th' slime an' ooze arranged be tinder paws. But he will not return. They will meet, but they will miss him, there will be wan vacant lair.

"Well, sir, just as I'd got to th' frame iv mind whin I'm thinkin' iv askin' that gloomy lookin' allygator in th' park up to spind an avenin' with me, along comes Tiddy Rosenfelt an' says there's nawthin' in it. It's hard on th' boys. They ar-re doin' th' best they can. Ye can't expect an author to lave his comfortable flat an' go three or four thousand miles to larn whether th' hero iv his little love story murdhers his uncle be bitin' him abaft th' ear or be fellin' him with a half Nelson an' hammer-lock. Why should he? Who wud feed th' goold fish while he was gone?

"No, sir, he does just right. Instead iv venturin' into th' wilds an' p'raps bein' et up be wan iv his fav'rite charackters, he calls f'r some tea an' toast, jabs his pen into th' inkwell, an' writes: 'Vichtry was not long in th' grasp iv th' whale. Befure he cud return to his burrow Tusky Bicuspid had seized him be th' tail an' dashed his