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an' wanst in awhile he bur-rns wan. He has a betther job thin Congressman.”

“Th' best a congressman can get is foorth-class postmasther an' a look in at th' White House on visitin' day. But Hadji, th' pop'lar an' iloquent sultan iv Sulu an' Bazeen iv th' Ohio iv th' Passyfic, owns his own palace an' disthributes his own jobs. No man can hold th' office iv bow-sthringer iv our impeeryal domain without a certy-ficate fr'm Hadji. From th' highest office in th' land to th' lowest, fr'm th' chief pizener to th' throne, to th' humblest ixicutioner that puts a lady in a bag an' dumps her into th' lake in th' Nine Millionth Assimbly district they look to Hadji Mohammed f'r their places. He is th' High Guy, th' Main Thing. He's ivrybody. When he quits wurrk th' governmint is over f'r th' day. An' does annywan thry to interfere with Hadji? Does annywan say 'Hadji, ye'll have to abandon two or three hundherd iv ye 'er firesides. Ye ar-re livin' jus' inside th' left field fince iv our domain an' 'tis a rule iv th' game that we've taken ye into that no wan shall have more thin wan wife at a time that annywan knows iv. In' behalf iv th' comity iv th' Society f'r th' Supprission iv Poly-gamy, I request ye to discard Nora an' Eileen an' Mary Ann an' Sue an' Bimbi an' th' r-rest iv th' bunch, an' cleave on'y to Lucille. I judge be her looks that she's th' first Missus Haitch.'

“No, sir. If he did he'd reach th' ship that runs between our outlying wards without a hair to his head. Instead iv reproachin' Hadji with his domestic habits, wan iv th' envoys that ar-re imployed in carryin' messages fr'm th' prisidint to his fellow-citizens, proceeds to th' pretty little American village iv Sulu, where he finds Hadji settin' up on a high chair surrounded be wives. 'Tis a domestic scene that'd make Brigham Young think he was a bachelor. Hadji is smokin' a good seegar an' occasionally histin' a dhrink iv cider, an' wan iv th' ladies is playin' a guitar, an' another is singin' 'I want ye my Sulu,' an' another is makin' a tidy, an' three or four hundred more ar-re sewin' patches on th' pants iv th' Hadji kids. An' th' ambassadure he says: 'Mos' rile an' luminous citizen, here is a copy iv th' Annual Thanksgivin' pro-clamation,' he says. 'Tis addhressed to all th' hearty husbandmen iv our belovid counthry, manin' you among others,' he says. 'An' here,' he says, 'is th' revised constitution,' he says. 'Th' original wan,' he says, 'was intinded f'r ol' stick-in-th'-muds that wudden't know th' difference between a harem an' a hoe,' he says. 'This wan,' he says, 'is more suited f'r th' prisint gay an' expansive times,' he says. 'It permits a man to cleave to as manny wives,' he says, 'as his race, color, an' prevyous condition iv servitude will permit,' he says. 'Thank ye kindly,' says Hadji, 'I'll threasure these here papers as a vallyable meminto fr'm that far distant home iv mine which I have niver see,' he says. 'I'd inthrojooce ye to Mrs. Hadji wan by wan,' he says, 'but 'twud be betther,' he says, 'f'r to stand up here an' be prisinted to her as a whole,' he says, 'f'r,' he says, ''tis growing late an' I want ye to come up to th' house,' he says, 'an' pick a mission'ry with me,' he says. 'A Baptist,' he says, 'raised on th' farm,' he says. An' Hadji holds his job an' looks for'rard to th' day whin we'll have female suffrage an' he can cast th' solid vote iv Sulu for himsilf f'r prisident.”

“Thin,” said Mr. Hennessy, “ye'er frind Roberts ought to move to what-d'ye-call-th' place.”

“That's what I'm thinkin',” said Mr. Dooley. “But 'tis too bad f'r him he was bor-rn at home.”







PUBLIC FICKLENESS

Mr. Dooley put his paper aside and pushed his spectacles up on his forehead. “Well,” he said, “I suppose, afther all, we're th' mos' lively nation in th' wurruld. It doesn't seem many months ago since ye, Hinnissy, was down at th' depot cheerin' th' departin' heroes——”

“I niver was,” said Mr. Hennessey. “I stayed at home.”

“Since ye was down cheerin' th' departin' heroes,” Mr. Dooley continued, “an' thryin' to collect what they owed ye. Th' papers was full iv news iv th' war. Private Jawn Thomas Bozoom iv Woonsocket, a mimber iv th' gallant an' devoted Wan Hundhred an' Eighth Rhode Island, accidentally slipped on a orange peel while attimptin' to lave th' recruitin' office an' sustained manny con-tu-sions. He rayfused to be taken home an' insisted on jinin' his rig'mint at th' rayciption in th' fair groun's. Gallant Private Bozoom! That's th' stuff that American heroes ar-re made iv. Ye find thim at th' forge an' at th' plough, an' dhrivin' sthreet cars, an' ridin' in th' same. The favored few has th' chanst to face th' bullets iv th'inimy. 'Tis f'r these unknown pathrites to prove that a man can sarve his counthry at home as well as abroad. Private Bozoom will not be f'rgot be his fellow-counthrymen. A rayciption has been arranged f'r him at th' Woonsocket op'ry-house, an' 'tis said if he will accipt it, th' vote iv th' State iv Rhode Island'll be cast f'r him f'r prisidint. 'Tis at such times as this that we reflict that th' wurruld has wurruk f'r men to do, an' mere politicians mus' retire to th' rear.”

“That was a few months ago. Where's Bozoom now? If iver ye go to Woonsocket, Hinnissy, which Gawd f'rbid, ye'll find him behind th' counther iv th' grocery store ladlin' out rutabaga turnips into a brown paper cornucopy an' glad to be alive. An' 'tis tin to wan, an' more thin that, that th' town humorist has named him th' orange-peel hero, an' he'll go to his grave with that name. Th' war is over an' th' state iv war exists. If ye saw a man fall fr'm th' top iv a tin-story buildin' 'twud startle ye, wanst. If it happened again, 'twud surprise ye. But if ye saw a man fall ivry fifteen minyits ye'd go home afther awhile f'r supper an' ye wuddent even mintion it to ye'er wife.”

“I don't know how manny heroes they ar-re in th' Philippeens. Down there a man is ayether a sojer or a casualty. Bein' a casualty is no good. I cud say about a man: 'He was a hero in th' war with Spain,' but how can I say: 'Shake hands with Bill Grady, wan iv th' ladin' casualties iv our late war?' 'Twud be no more thin to say he was wan iv th' gallant men that voted f'r prisidint in 1896.'”

{Illustration}

“No, Hinnissy, people wants novelties in war. Th' war fashions iv 1898 is out iv style. They ar-re too full in th' waist an' too long in th' skirt. Th' style has changed. There ar-re fifty thousand backward men in th' fair isles iv th' Passyfic fightin' to free th' Philippeen fr'm himsilf an' becomin' a casualty in th' operation, but no one is charterin' ar-rmy hospital ships f'r thim.”

“No one is convartin' anny steam yachts f'r thim. No wan is sindin' eighty tons iv plum puddin' to complete th' wurruk iv destruction. They ar-re in a war that'd make th' British throops in Africa think they were drillin' f'r a prize banner. But'tis an onfashionable war.' 'Tis an ol' war made over fr'm garments formerly worn be heroes. Whin a man is out in th' counthry with wan newspaper an' has read th' authentic dispatches fr'm Ladysmith an' Harrismith an' Willumaldensmith an' Mysteriousbillysmith

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