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

kindly in Irish. He carrid me bag downstairs in th' ship. We kept goin' down an' down till we touched bottom, thin we rambled through long lanes neatly decorated with steel girders till we come to a dent in th' keel. That was me boodoor. At laste part iv it was. There were two handsome berths in it an' I had th' top wan. Th' lower wan was already occypied be a gintleman that had started to feel onaisy on th' way down f'm London an' was now prepared f'r th' worst. I left him to his grief an' wint up on th' roof iv th' ship.

"'It was a gay scene f'r th' boat had started. Long rows iv ladies were stretched on invalid chairs with shawls over thim, pretindin' to read an' takin' deep smells at little green bottles. Three or four hundherd men had begun to walk around th' ship with their hands folded behind thim. A poker game between four rale poker players an' a man that didn't know th' game but had sharp finger-nails was already started in th' smokin'-room. About that time I begun to have a quare sinsation. I haven't been able to find out yet what it was. I must ask Dock O'Leary. I wasn't sea-sick, mind ye. I'm a good sailor. But I had a funny feelin' in me forehead between me eyes. It wasn't a headache exactly but a kind iv a sthrange sinsation like I used to have whin I was a boy an' thried to look cross-eyed. I suppose it was th' strong light. I didn't have anny aversion to food. Not at all. But somehow I didn't like th' smell iv food. It was disagreeable to me an' it seemed to make th' place in me head worse. Sivral times I wint to th' dinin'-room intindin' to jine th' jovyal comp'ny there but quit at th' dure. It was very sthrange. I don't know how to account f'r it. Very few people were sea-sick on th' v'yage, but sivral hundherd who were injyin' paddlin' a spoon in a cup iv beef tea on deck spoke iv havin' th' same sinsation. I didn't speak iv it to th' ship's doctor. I'd as lave carry me ailments to a harness maker as to a ship's doctor. But there it was, an' fr'm me pint iv view it was th' most important ivint iv th' passage.

"Next to that th' most excitin' thing was thryin' to find annybody that wud take money fr'm me. It's a tur-rble awkward thing to have to force money on an Englishman in a uniform like an admiral's an' talkin' with an accent that manny iv th' finest people on th' deck were thryin' to imitate, but I schooled mesilf to it. An' sthrange to say they niver refused. They were even betther thin that. I was lavin' th' ship whin th' fellow that pulled th' plug out iv th' other man's bath f'r me touched me on th' shoulder. I turned an' see a frindly gleam in his eye that made me wondher if he had a knife. I give him what they call five bobs over there, which is wan dollar an' twinty cints iv our money. He touched his cap an' says Cue. I was greatly moved. But it's done wan thing f'r me. It's made me competint f'r anny office connected with th' legal departmint iv a sthreet railway. Be hivens, I cud hand a piece iv change to a judge iv th' supreem coort. I hear th' Conyard line has passed a dividend. They ought to make a merger with th' head stoort,' says he.

"An' there ye ar-re. A boat's a boat aven whin it looks like a hotel. But it's wondherful annyhow. Whin ye come to think iv it 'tis wondherful that anny man cud cross th' Atlantic in annything. Th' Atlantic Ocean is a fine body iv wather, but it's a body iv wather just th' same. It wasn't intinded to be thravelled on. Ye cud put ye'er foot through it annywhere. It's sloppy goin' at best. Th' on'y time a human being can float in it is afther he's dead. A man throws a horseshoe into it an' th' horseshoe sinks. This makes him cross an' he builds a boat iv th' same mateeryal as a millyon horseshoes, loads it up with machinery, pushes it out on th' billows an' goes larkin' acrost thim as aisy as ye plaze. If he didn't go over on a large steel skyscraper he'd take a dure off its hinges an' go on that.

"All ye have to do is to tell him there's land on th' other side iv th' ragin' flood an' he'll say: 'All right, I'll take a look at it.' Ye talk about th' majesty iv th' ocean but what about th' majesty iv this here little sixty-eight be eighteen inches bump iv self-reliance that treats it like th' dirt undher his feet? It's a wondher to me that th' ocean don't get tired iv growlin' an' roarin' at th' race iv men. They don't pay anny heed to it's hollering. Whin it behaves itsilf they praise it as though it was a good dog. 'How lovely our ocean looks undher our moon.' Whin it rises in its wrath they show their contimpt f'r it be bein' sea-sick into it. But no matther how it behaves they niver quit usin' its face f'r a right iv way. They'll niver subjoo it but it niver bates thim. There niver was a time in th' history iv little man's sthruggle with th' vasty deep that he didn't deserve a decision on points."

"Well, it's all very well, but f'r me th' dhry land," said Mr. Hennessy. "Will ye iver cross th' ocean again?"

"Not," said Mr. Dooley, "till they asphalt it an' run th' boats on throlleys."

WORK

"Ye haven't sthruck yet, have ye?" said Mr. Dooley.

"Not yet," said Mr. Hennessy. "But th' dillygate was up at th' mills to-day an' we may be called out anny minyit now."

"Will ye go?" asked Mr. Dooley.

"Ye bet I will," said Mr. Hennessy. "Ye just bet I will. I stand firm be union principles an' besides it's hot as blazes up there these days. I wudden't mind havin' a few weeks off."

"Ye'll do right to quit," said Mr. Dooley. "I have no sympathy with sthrikers. I have no sympathy with thim anny more thin I have with people goin' off to a picnic. A sthrike is a wurrukin' man's vacation. If I had to be wan iv thim horny-handed sons iv toil, th' men that have made our counthry what it is an' creates th' wealth iv th' wurruld—if I had to be wan iv thim pillars iv th' constitution, which thank Gawd I haven't, 'tis sthrikin' I'd be all th' time durin' th' heated term. I'd begin sthrikin' whin th' flowers begin to bloom in th' parks, an' I'd stay on sthrike till 'twas too cold to sit out on th' bleachers at th' baseball park. Ye bet I wud.

"I've noticed that nearly all sthrikes occur in th' summer time. Sthrikes come in th' summer time an' lockouts in th' winter. In th' summer whin th' soft breezes blows through shop an' facthry, fannin' th' cheeks iv th' artisan an' settin' fire to his whiskers, whin th' main guy is off at th' seashore bein' pinched f'r exceedin' th' speed limit, whin 'tis comfortable to sleep out at nights an' th' Sox have started a batting sthreak, th' son iv Marthy, as me frind Roodyard Kipling calls him, begins to think iv th' rights iv labor.

"Th' more he looks out iv th' window, th' more he thinks about his rights, an' wan warm day he heaves a couplin' pin at th' boss an' saunters away. Sthrikes are a great evil f'r th' wurrukin' man, but so are picnics an' he acts th' same at both. There's th' same not gettin' up till ye want to, th' same meetin' ye'er frinds f'r th' first time in their good clothes an' th' same thumpin' sthrangers over th' head with a brick. Afther awhile th' main guy comes home fr'm th' seaside, raises wages twinty per cent, fires th' boss an' takes in th' walkin' dillygate as a specyal partner.

"But in winter, what Hogan calls another flower iv our industhreel system blooms. In th' winter it's warmer in th' foundhry thin in th' home. There is no hearth as ample in anny man's home as th' hearth th' Steel Comp'ny does its cookin' by. It is pleasant to see th' citizen afther th' rigors iv a night at home hurryin' to th' mills to toast his numbed limbs in th' warm glow iv th' Bessemer furnace. About this time th' main guy takes a look at the thermometer an' chases th' specyal partner out iv th' office with th' annual report iv th' Civic Featheration. He thin summons his hardy assocyates about him an' says he: 'Boys, I will no longer stand f'r th' tyranny iv th' unions. Conditions has changed since last summer. It's grown much colder. I do not care f'r the money at stake, but there is a great principle involved. I cannot consint to have me business run be outsiders at a cost iv near thirty thousand dollars a year,' says he. An' there's a lockout.

"'Tis a matther iv th' seasons. So if ye sthrike ye'll not get me sympathy. I resarve that f'r me infeeryors. I'll keep me sympathy f'r th' poor fellow that has nobody to lure him away fr'm his toil an' that has to sweat through August with no chanst iv gettin' a day in th' open onless th' milishy are ordhered out an' thin whin he goes back to wurruk th' chances are somebody's got his job while th' sthrikin' wurrukin' man returns with his pockets full iv cigars an' is hugged at th' dure be the main guy. If I was rejooced to wurrukin' f'r me livin', if I was a son iv Marthy I'd be a bricklayer. They always sthrike durin' th' buildin' season. They time it just right. They niver quit wurruk. They thry not to meet it. It is what Hogan calls a pecolyar fact that bricklayers always time their vacations f'r th' peeryod whin there is wurruk to be done.

"No, sir, don't ask me to weep over th' downthrodden wurrukin' man whin he's out on sthrike. Ye take these here tillygraft op'rators that have laid off wurruk f'r th' summer. Do they look as though they were sufferin'? Ye bet they don't. Th' tired tillygraft op'rator come home last week with a smile on his face. 'I have good news f'r ye, mother,' says he. 'Ye haven't sthruck?' says she, hope sthrugglin' with fear in her face. 'Ye've guessed it,' says he. 'We weren't exactly ordhered out. Th' signal f'r a sthrike was to be a series iv sharp whistles fr'm the walkin' dillygate, but, whin that didn't come an' we were tired iv waitin' th' report iv th' baseball game come over th' wires an' we mistook that f'r a signal. Ye must get the childher ready f'r a day in th' counthry. We can't tell how soon this sthruggle again th' greed iv capital will be declared off an' we must make th' most iv it while it lasts,' says he.

"I know a tillygraft op'rator, wan iv thim knights iv th' key that has a fine job in a counthry deepo. All he has to do is to be up in time to flag number eight at six o'clock an' wait till number thirty-two goes through at midnight, keep thrains fr'm bumpin' into each other, turn switches, put up th' simaphore, clean th' lamps an' hand out time tables an' sell tickets. F'r these dissypations he dhraws down all th' way fr'm fifteen to twinty dollars a week. An' he wants to sthrike. An' th' pa-apers say if he does he'll tie up our impeeryal railroad systems. Think iv that. I never had much iv an opinyon iv him. All he iver done f'r me was to misspell me name. He's a little thin man that cudden't lift an eighth iv beer with both hands, but he's that important if he leaps his job we'll all have to walk.

"I've often thought I'd like to have th' walkin' dillygate iv th' Liquor Dealers' Binivolent Assocyation come around an' ordher me to lay down me lemon squeezer an' bung starter an' walk out. But nawthin' iv th' kind iver happens an' if it did happen no wan wud care a sthraw. Th' whole wurruld shuddhers at th' thought that me frind Ike Simpson, the tillygraft op'rator, may take a day off: but me or Pierpont Morgan might quit f'r a year an' no wan wud care. Supposin' Rockyfellar an' Pierpont Morgan an' Jim Hill shud form