"Ye ar-re," said Mr. Hennessy.
"That's simple enough. What th' coort ought to've done was to call himup, an' say: 'Lootgert, where's ye'er good woman?' If Lootgert cudden'ttell, he ought to be hanged on gin'ral principles; f'r a man must keephis wife around th' house, an' whin she isn't there, it shows he's apoor provider. But, if Lootgert says, 'I don't know where me wife is,'the coort shud say: 'Go out, an' find her. If ye can't projooce her in aweek, I'll fix ye.' An' let that be th' end iv it.
"But what do they do? They get Lootgert into coort an' stand him upbefure a gang iv young rayporthers an' th' likes iv thim to makepitchers iv him. Thin they summon a jury composed iv poor tired, sleepyexpressmen an' tailors an' clerks. Thin they call in a profissor from acolledge. 'Profissor,' says th' lawyer f'r the State, 'I put it to ye ifa wooden vat three hundherd an' sixty feet long, twenty-eight feet deep,an' sivinty-five feet wide, an' if three hundherd pounds iv caustic sodaboiled, an' if the leg iv a guinea pig, an' ye said yestherdah aboutbi-carbonate iv soda, an' if it washes up an' washes over, an' th'slimy, slippery stuff, an' if a false tooth or a lock iv hair or ajawbone or a goluf ball across th' cellar eleven feet nine inches--thatis, two inches this way an' five gallons that?' 'I agree with yeintirely,' says th' profissor. 'I made lab'ratory experiments in an'ir'n basin, with bichloride iv gool, which I will call soup-stock, an'coal tar, which I will call ir'n filings. I mixed th' two over a hotfire, an' left in a cool place to harden. I thin packed it in ice, whichI will call glue, an' rock-salt, which I will call fried eggs, an'obtained a dark, queer solution that is a cure f'r freckles, which Iwill call antimony or doughnuts or annything I blamed please.'
"'But,' says th' lawyer f'r th' State, 'measurin' th' vat with gas,--an'I lave it to ye whether this is not th' on'y fair test,--an' supposin'that two feet acrost is akel to tin feet sideways, an' supposin' that athick green an' hard substance, an' I daresay it wud; an' supposin' youmay, takin' into account th' measuremints,--twelve be eight,--th' vatbein' wound with twine six inches fr'm th' handle an' a rub iv th'green, thin ar-re not human teeth often found in counthry sausage?' 'Inth' winter,' says th' profissor. 'But th' sisymoid bone is sometimesseen in th' fut, sometimes worn as a watch-charm. I took two sisymoidbones, which I will call poker dice, an' shook thim together in acylinder, which I will call Fido, poored in a can iv milk, which I willcall gum arabic, took two pounds iv rough-on-rats, which I rayfuse tocall; but th' raysult is th' same.' Question be th' coort: 'Different?'Answer: 'Yis.' Th' coort: 'Th' same.' Be Misther McEwen: 'Whose bones?'Answer: 'Yis.' Be Misther Vincent: 'Will ye go to th' divvle?' Answer:'It dissolves th' hair.'
"Now what I want to know is where th' jury gets off. What has thatcollection iv pure-minded pathrites to larn fr'm this here politediscussion, where no wan is so crool as to ask what anny wan elsemeans? Thank th' Lord, whin th' case is all over, the jury'll pitch th'tistimony out iv th' window, an' consider three questions: 'Did Lootgertlook as though he'd kill his wife? Did his wife look as though she oughtto be kilt? Isn't it time we wint to supper?' An', howiver they answer,they'll be right, an' it'll make little difference wan way or th' other.Th' German vote is too large an' ignorant, annyhow."
ON THE POPULARITY OF FIREMEN.
"I knowed a man be th' name iv Clancy wanst, Jawn. He was fr'm th'County May-o, but a good man f'r all that; an', whin he'd growed to be abig, sthrappin' fellow, he wint on to th' fire departmint. They'se anIrishman 'r two on th' fire departmint an' in th' army, too, Jawn,though ye'd think be hearin' some talk they was all runnin' prim'riesan' thryin' to be cinthral comitymen. So ye wud. Ye niver hear iv thimon'y whin they die; an' thin, murther, what funerals they have!
"Well, this Clancy wint on th' fire departmint, an' they give him aplace in thruck twinty-three. All th' r-road was proud iv him, an' faithhe was proud iv himsilf. He r-rode free on th' sthreet ca-ars, an' wasth' champeen hand-ball player f'r miles around. Ye shud see him goin'down th' sthreet, with his blue shirt an' his blue coat with th' buttonson it, an' his cap on his ear. But ne'er a cap or coat'd he wear whinthey was a fire. He might be shiv'rin' be th' stove in th' ingine housewith a buffalo robe over his head; but, whin th' gong sthruck, 'twas offwith coat an' cap an' buffalo robe, an' out come me brave Clancy,bare-headed an' bare hand, dhrivin' with wan line an' spillin' th' hosecart on wan wheel at ivry jump iv th' horse. Did anny wan iver see afireman with his coat on or a polisman with his off? Why, wanst, whinClancy was standin' up f'r Grogan's eighth, his son come runnin' in totell him they was a fire in Vogel's packin' house. He dhropped th' kidat Father Kelly's feet, an' whipped off his long coat an' wint tearin'f'r th' dure, kickin' over th' poorbox an' buttin' ol' Mis' O'Neillthat'd come in to say th' stations. 'Twas lucky 'twas wan iv th'Grogans. They're a fine family f'r falls. Jawn Grogan was wurrukin' onth' top iv Metzri an' O'Connell's brewery wanst, with a man be th' nameiv Dorsey. He slipped an' fell wan hundherd feet. Whin they come to seeif he was dead, he got up, an' says he: 'Lave me at him.' 'At who?'says they. 'He's deliryous,' they says. 'At Dorsey,' says Grogan. 'Hethripped me.' So it didn't hurt Grogan's eighth to fall four 'r fivefeet.
"Well, Clancy wint to fires an' fires. Whin th' big organ facthry burnt,he carrid th' hose up to th' fourth story an' was squirtin' whin th'walls fell. They dug him out with pick an' shovel, an' he come up fr'mth' brick an' boards an' saluted th' chief. 'Clancy,' says th' chief,'ye betther go over an' get a dhrink.' He did so, Jawn. I heerd it. An'Clancy was that proud!
"Whin th' Hogan flats on Halsted Sthreet took fire, they got all th'people out but wan; an' she was a woman asleep on th' fourth flure.'Who'll go up?' says Bill Musham. 'Sure, sir,' says Clancy, 'I'll go';an' up he wint. His captain was a man be th' name iv O'Connell, fr'm th'County Kerry; an' he had his fut on th' ladder whin Clancy started.Well, th' good man wint into th' smoke, with his wife faintin' downbelow. 'He'll be kilt,' says his brother. 'Ye don't know him,' saysBill Musham. An' sure enough, whin ivry wan'd give him up, out comes mebrave Clancy, as black as a Turk, with th' girl in his arms. Th' otherswint up like monkeys, but he shtud wavin' thim off, an' come down th'ladder face forward. 'Where'd ye larn that?' says Bill Musham. 'I seen aman do it at th' Lyceem whin I was a kid,' says Clancy. 'Was it allright?' 'I'll have ye up before th' ol' man,' says Bill Musham. 'I'llteach ye to come down a laddher as if ye was in a quadhrille, yehorse-stealin', ham-sthringin' May-o man,' he says. But he didn't.Clancy wint over to see his wife. 'O Mike,' says she, ''twas fine,' shesays. 'But why d'ye take th' risk?' she says. 'Did ye see th' captain?'he says with a scowl. 'He wanted to go. Did ye think I'd follow a Kerryman with all th' ward lukkin' on?' he says.
"Well, so he wint dhrivin' th' hose-cart on wan wheel, an' jumpin' whinhe heerd a man so much as hit a glass to make it ring. All th' peoplelooked up to him, an' th' kids followed him down th' sthreet; an' 'twasth' gr-reatest priv'lige f'r anny wan f'r to play dominos with him nearth' joker. But about a year ago he come in to see me, an' says he,'Well, I'm goin' to quit.' 'Why,' says I, 'ye'er a young man yet,' Isays. 'Faith,' he says, 'look at me hair,' he says,--'young heart, ol'head. I've been at it these twinty year, an' th' good woman's wantin' tosee more iv me thin blowin' into a saucer iv coffee,' he says. 'I'mgoin' to quit,' he says, 'on'y I want to see wan more good fire,' hesays. 'A rale good ol' hot wan,' he says, 'with th' win' blowin' f'r itan' a good dhraft in th' ilivator-shaft, an' about two stories, withpitcher-frames an' gasoline an' excelsior, an' to hear th' chiefyellin': "Play 'way, sivinteen. What th' hell an' damnation are yestandin' aroun' with that pipe f'r? Is this a fire 'r a dam livin'pitcher? I'll break ivry man iv eighteen, four, six, an' chem'cal fiveto-morrah mornin' befure breakfast." Oh,' he says, bringin' his fistdown, 'wan more, an' I'll quit.'
"An' he did, Jawn. Th' day th' Carpenter Brothers' box factory burnt.'Twas wan iv thim big, fine-lookin' buildings that pious men built outiv celluloid an' plasther iv Paris. An' Clancy was wan iv th' men undherwhin th' wall fell. I seen thim bringin' him home; an' th' little womanmet him at th' dure, rumplin' her apron in her hand
s."
ON THE GAME OF FOOTBALL.
"Whin I was a young man," said Mr. Dooley, "an' that was a long timeago,--but not so long ago as manny iv me inimies'd like to believe, if Ihad anny inimies,--I played futball, but 'twas not th' futball I seewhin th' Brothers' school an' th' Saint Aloysius Tigers played las' weekon th' pee-raries.
"Whin I was a la-ad, iv a Sundah afthernoon we'd get out in th' fieldwhere th' oats'd been cut away, an' we'd choose up sides. Wan cap'n'dpick one man, an' th' other another. 'I choose Dooley,' 'I chooseO'Connor,' 'I choose Dimpsey,' 'I choose Riordan,' an' so on till therewas twinty-five or thirty on a side. Thin wan cap'n'd kick th' ball, an'all our side'd r-run at it an' kick it back; an' thin wan iv th' otherside'd kick it to us, an' afther awhile th' game'd get so timpischousthat all th' la-ads iv both sides'd be in wan pile, kickin' away at wanor th' other or at th' ball or at th' impire, who was mos'ly a la-adthat cudden't play an' that come out less able to play thin he was whinhe wint in. An', if anny wan laid hands on th' ball, he was kicked beivry wan else an' be th' impire. We played fr'm noon till dark, an'kicked th' ball all th' way home in the moonlight.
"That was futball, an' I was a great wan to play it. I'd think nawthin'iv histin' th' ball two hundherd feet in th' air, an' wanst I give itsuch a boost that I stove in th' ribs iv th' Prowtestant minister--badluck to him, he was a kind man--that was lookin' on fr'm a hedge. I wasth' finest player in th' whole county, I was so.
"But this here game that I've been seein' ivry time th' pagan fistivaliv Thanksgivin' comes ar-round, sure it ain't th' game I played. I seenth' Dorgan la-ad comin' up th' sthreet yestherdah in his futballclothes,--a pair iv matthresses on his legs, a pillow behind, a maskover his nose, an' a bushel measure iv hair on his head. He was followedbe three men with bottles, Dr. Ryan, an' th' Dorgan fam'ly. I jinedthim. They was a big crowd on th' peerary,--a bigger crowd than ye cudget to go f'r to see a prize fight. Both sides had their frinds thatgive th' colledge cries. Says wan crowd: 'Take an ax, an ax, an ax tothim. Hooroo, hooroo, hellabaloo. Christyan Bro-others!' an' th' othersays, 'Hit thim, saw thim, gnaw thim, chaw thim, Saint Aloysius!' Well,afther awhile they got down to wurruk. 'Sivin, eighteen, two, four,'says a la-ad. I've seen people go mad over figures durin' th' freesilver campaign, but I niver see figures make a man want f'r to go outan' kill his fellow-men befure. But these here figures had th' sameeffect on th' la-ads that a mintion iv Lord Castlereagh'd have on theirfathers. Wan la-ad hauled off, an' give a la-ad acrost fr'm him a punchin th' stomach. His frind acrost th' way caught him in th' ear. Th'cinter rush iv th' Saint Aloysiuses took a runnin' jump at th' left lungiv wan iv th' Christyan Brothers, an' wint to th' grass with him. FourChristyan Brothers leaped most crooly at four Saint Aloysiuses, an'rolled thim. Th' cap'n iv th' Saint Aloysiuses he took th' cap'n iv th'Christyan Brothers be th' leg, an' he pounded th' pile with him as I'veseen a section hand tamp th' thrack. All this time young Dorgan wasstandin' back, takin' no hand in th' affray. All iv a suddent he give acry iv rage, an' jumped feet foremost into th' pile. 'Down!' says th'impire. 'Faith, they are all iv that,' says I, 'Will iver they get up?''They will,' says ol' man Dorgan. 'Ye can't stop thim,' says he.
"It took some time f'r to pry thim off. Near ivry man iv th' SaintAloysiuses was tied in a knot around wan iv th' Christyan Brothers. On'ywan iv them remained on th' field. He was lyin' face down, with his nosein th' mud. 'He's kilt,' says I. 'I think he is,' says Dorgan, with amerry smile. 'Twas my boy Jimmy done it, too,' says he. 'He'll bearrested f'r murdher,' says I. 'He will not,' says he. 'There's on'ywan polisman in town cud take him, an' he's down town doin' th' same f'rsomebody,' he says. Well, they carried th' corpse to th' side, an' tookth' ball out iv his stomach with a monkey wrinch, an' th' game wasray-shumed. 'Sivin, sixteen, eight, eleven,' says Saint Aloysius; an'young Dorgan started to run down th' field. They was another young la-adr-runnin' in fr-front iv Dorgan; an', as fast as wan iv th' ChristyanBrothers come up an' got in th' way, this here young Saint Aloysiusgrabbed him be th' hair iv th' head an' th' sole iv th' fut, an' thrunhim over his shoulder. 'What's that la-ad doin'?' says I. 'Interferin','says he. 'I shud think he was,' says I, 'an' most impudent,' I says.''Tis such interference as this,' I says, 'that breaks up fam'lies'; an'I come away.
"'Tis a noble sport, an' I'm glad to see us Irish ar-re gettin' into it.Whin we larn it thruly, we'll teach thim colledge joods fr'm th' piebelt a thrick or two."
"We have already," said Mr. Hennessy. "They'se a team up in Wisconsinwith a la-ad be th' name iv Jeremiah Riordan f'r cap'n, an' wan namedPatsy O'Dea behind him. They come down here, an' bate th' la-ads fr'mth' Chicawgo Colledge down be th' Midway."
"Iv coorse, they did," said Mr. Dooley. "Iv coorse, they did. An' theycud bate anny collection iv Baptists that iver come out iv a tank."
ON THE NECESSITY OF MODESTY AMONG THE RICH.
"I wondher," said Mr. Hennessy, "if thim Hadley-Markhams that's goin' togive th' ball is anny kin iv th' aldherman?"
"I doubt it," said Mr. Dooley. "I knowed all his folks. They're Monaghanpeople, an' I niver heerd iv thim marryin' into th' Hadleys, who comefr'm away beyant near th' Joynt's Causeway. What med ye think iv thim?"
"I was readin' about th' Prowtestant minister that give thim such aturnin' over th' other night," said Hennessy. Then the Philistine wenton: "It looks to me as though th' man was wr-rong, an' th'Hadley-Markhams was right. Faith, th' more th' poor can get out iv th'r-rich, th' better f'r thim. I seen it put just r-right in th' paper th'other day. If these people didn't let go iv their coin here, they'd takeit away with thim to Paris or West Baden, Indiana, an' spind it instidiv puttin' it in circulation amongst th' florists an' dhressmakers an'hackmen they'll have to hire. I believe in encouragin' th' rich to walkaway fr'm their change. 'Tis gr-reat f'r business."
Mr. Dooley mused over this proposition some time before he said:--
"Years ago, whin I was a little bit iv a kid, hardly high enough to lookinto th' pot iv stirabout on th' peat fire, they was a rich landlord inour part iv Ireland; an' he ownded near half th' counthryside. His namewas Dorsey,--Willum Edmund Fitzgerald Dorsey, justice iv th' peace,mimber iv Parlymint.
"I'll niver tell ye how much land that man had in his own r-right. Yecud walk f'r a day without lavin' it, bog an' oat-field an' pasthure an'game presarves. He was smothered with money, an' he lived in a house asbig as th' Audjitoroom Hotel. Manny's th' time I've seen him ride by ourplace, an' me father'd raise his head from th' kish iv turf an' touchhis hat to th' gr-reat man. An' wanst or twict in th' month th' dogs'dcome yelpin' acrost our little place, with lads follerin' afther inr-red coats; f'r this Dorsey was a gr-reat huntsman, bad scran to hisevil face.
"He had th' r-reputation iv bein' a good landlord so long as th' cropscome regular. He was vilent, it's thrue, an' 'd as lave as not cut afarmer acrost th' face with his whip f'r crossin' th' thrail iv th' fox;but he was liberal with his money, an', Hinnissy, that's a thrait thatcovers a multitude iv sins. He give freely to th' church, an' was asgin'rous to th' priest as to th' parson. He had th' gintry f'r milesaround to his big house f'r balls an' dinners an' huntin' meetin's, an'half th' little shopkeepers in th' neighborin' town lived on th' moneyhe spent f'r th' things he didn't bring fr'm Dublin or London. I mindwanst a great roar wint up whin he stayed th' whole season in Englandwith his fam'ly. It near broke th' townsfolk, an' they were wild withdelight whin he come back an' opened up th' big house.
"But wan year there come a flood iv rain, an' th nex' year anotherflood, an' th' third year there wasn't a lumper turned up that wasn'tblue-black to th' hear-rt. We was betther off than most, an' we sufferedour share, Gawd knows; but thim that was scrapin' th' sod f'r a barelivin' fr'm day to day perished like th' cattle in th' field.
"Thin come th' writs an' th' evictions. Th' bailiffs dhrove out insquads, seizin' cattle an' turnin' people into th' r-road. Nawthin' wudsoften th' hear-rt iv Dorsey. I seen th' priest an' th' 'Piscopalministher dhrivin' over to plead with him wan night; an' th' good manstopped a
t our house, comin' back, an' spent th' night with us. I heerdhim tell me father what Dorsey said. 'Haven't I been lib'ral with mepeople?' he says. 'Haven't I give freely to ye'er churches? Haven't Iput up soup-houses an' disthributed blankets whin th' weather was cold?Haven't I kept th' shopkeepers iv th' town beyant fr'm starvin' bethradin' with thim an' stayin' in this cur-rsed counthry, whin, if I'ddone what me wife wanted, I'd been r-runnin' around Europe, enj'yin'life? I'm a risidint landlord. I ain't like Kilduff, that laves hisestate in th' hands iv an agint. I'm proud iv me station. I was bor-rnhere, an' here I'll die; but I'll have me r-rights. These here peopleowes their rent, an' I'll get th' rent or th' farms if I have to call onivry rig'mint fr'm Bombay to Cape Clear, an' turn ivry oat-field into apasture f'r me cattle. I stand on th' law. I'm a just man, an' I ask nomore thin what belongs to me.'
"Ivry night they was a party on th' hill, an' th' people come fr'm milesaround; an' th' tinants trudgin' over th' muddy roads with th' peelersbehind thim cud see th' light poorin' out fr'm th' big house an' hearDevine's band playin' to th' dancers. Th' shopkeepers lived in clover,an' thanked th' lord f'r a good landlord, an' wan that lived at home.But one avnin' a black man be th' name iv Shaughnessy, that had thrampedacrost th' hills fr'm Galway just in time to rent f'r th' potato rot,wint and hid himself in a hedge along th' road with a shotgun loadedwith hardware under his coat. Dorsey'd heerd talk iv the people bein'aggrieved at him givin' big parties while his bailiffs were hustlin' menand women off their hold-in's; but he was a high-handed man, an' foolishin his pride, an' he'd have it no other way but that he'd go aboutwithout protection. This night he rode alongside th' carredge iv some ivhis frinds goin' to th' other side iv town, an' come back alone in th'moonlight. Th' Irish ar-re poor marksmen, Hinnissy, except whin theyfire in platoons; but that big man loomin' up in th' moonlight on ablack horse cud no more be missed thin th' r-rock iv Cashel. He niverknowed what hit him; an' Pether th' Packer come down th' followin'month, an' a jury iv shopkeepers hanged Shaughnessy so fast it med eventh' judge smile."
Mr. Dooley in Peace and in War Page 8