Mr. Dooley Says Part 2

"Well, glory be, 'tis no use botherin' our heads about it. Panics an' circuses, as Father Kelly says, are f'r th' amus.e.m.e.nt iv th' poor. An' a time iv this kind is fine f'r ivrybody who hasn't too much. A little while ago ye niver r-read in th' pa-aper annything about th' fellow that had his money in th' bank anny more thin ye'd read about th' spectators at a prize fight. 'Twas all what th' joynts iv fi-nance were doin'. 'Who's that man with th' plug hat just comin' out iv th' gamblin' joint?' 'That's th' prisidint iv th' Eighth Rational.' 'An' who's that shakin' dice at th' bar?' 'That's th' head iv our greatest thrust comp'ny.' An' so it wint. To-day I read in th' pa-apers an appeal to th' good sense iv Mulligan, th' tailor. It didn't mintion his name, but it might just as well. 'Twas th' same as sayin': 'Now, look here, Mulligan, me brave fellow. 'Tis up to you to settle this whole matther. It's got beyond us and we rely on ye not to dump us. We lost our heads but a man iv ye'er carackter can't afford to do annything rash or on-thinkin' like a lot iv excitable fi-nanceers. Ye must get undher th' situation at wanst. We appeal to th' good common sense th' pathritism, th' honor, th' manly courage an' th' ca-mness in th' face iv great danger iv Timothy Mulligan to pull us out iv th' hole. Regards to Mrs. Mulligan an' all th' little wans. Don't answer in person (signed) Jawn D. Rockyfellar.'

"An' iv coorse Mulligan'll do it. Mulligan caused th' throuble be havin' money in th' first place an' takin' it out in th' second place. Mulligan will settle it all be carryin' his money back to th' bank where money belongs. Don't get excited about it, Hinnissy, me boy. Cheer up. 'Twill be all right tomorrah, or th' next day, or some time. 'Tis wan good thing about this here wurruld, that nawthin' lasts long enough to hurt. I have been through manny a panic. I cud handle wan as well as Morgan. Panics cause thimsilves an' take care iv thimsilves. Who do I blame for this wan? Grogan blamed Rosenfelt yesterday; to-day he blames Mulligan; to-morrah he won't blame anny wan an' thin th' panic will be over. I blame no wan, an' I blame ivry wan. All I say to ye is, be brave, be ca'm an' go on shovellin'. So long as there's a Hinnissy in th' wurruld, an' he has a shovel, an' there's something f'r him to shovel, we'll be all right, or pretty near all right.

"Don't ye think Rosenfelt has shaken public confidence?" asked Mr. Hennessy.

"Shaken it," said Mr. Dooley; "I think he give it a good kick just as it jumped off th' roof."

OCEAN TRAVEL

"I see this here new steamboat has broke all records. It come acrost th' Atlantic Ocean in four days. Pa.s.sengers that got aboord at Liverpool on Sat.u.r.day were in New York Friday afthernoon."

"But that's more thin four days."

"Not be nautical time, said Mr. Dooley. Ye mustn't figure it out th' way ye do on land. On land ye niver read that 'Th' Thunderbolt limited has broken all records be thravellin' fr'm New York (Harrisburg) to Chicago (Fort Wayne) in eight hours.' But with a steamboat 'tis different. Ye saw a lot iv time off ayether end an' what's left is th' v'yage. 'Th' Conyard line's gr-reat ocean greyhound or levithin iv th' seas has broken all records iv transatlantic pa.s.sages except thim made be th' Germans. She has thravelled fr'm Liverpool (a rock so far off th' coast iv Ireland that I niver see it) to New York (Sandy Hook lightship) in four or five days. Brittanya again rules th' waves.' So if ye've anny frinds inclined to boast about makin' a record ask thim did they swim aboord at Daunt's Rock an' swim off at th' lightship. If they didn't, refuse to take off ye'er hat to thim. To tell how long it takes to cross th' Atlantic compute th' elapsed time fr'm boordin' house to boordin' house. It's fr'm a week to ten days depindin on th' time ye go to bed whin ye come home. Manny a man that come over on a five-day boat has had th' divvle iv a time explainin' to his wife what he did with th' other two days. No record iv thransatlantic thravel takes into account th' longest, roughest an' most dangerous part iv th' pa.s.sage, which is through th' New York custom house.

"But 'tis wondherful annyhow. 'Tis wondherful that a man shud cross th' Atlantic ocean annyhow an' 'tis enough to make ye dizzy to think iv him crossin' it in an iron boat that looks like a row iv office buildings. Th' grand times they must've had. Time was whin a man got on a boat an' was lost f'r a week or ten days. Now, be hivens, through th' wondhers iv modhern science he's hardly settled down to a cigar an' a game iv pinochle with another fugitive that he's just met, whin a messenger boy comes down th' deck on his bicycle an' hands him a tillygram with glad tidings fr'm home. Th' house is burned, th' sheriff has levied on his furniture or th' fam'ly are down with th' whoopin' cough. On th' other hand we know all about what they are doin' on boord th' levithin. Just as ye'er wife is thinkin' iv ye bein' wrecked on a desert island or floatin' on a raft an' signallin' with an undershirt she picks up th' pa-aper an' reads: 'Th' life iv th' ship is Malachi Hinnissy, a wealthy bachelor fr'm Pittsburg. His attintions to a widow from Omaha are most marked. They make a handsome couple.'

"Well, sir, they must 've had th' gloryus time on boord this new boat. In th' old days all ye knew about a ship was that she left Liverpool and landed in New York afther a most disthressin' v'yage. Now ye r-read iv th' gay life aboord her fr'm day to day: 'Th' tie in th' billyard tournymint was played off last night. Th' resthrants are crowded nightly an' great throngs are seen in Main Sthreet undher th' brilliant illuminations. Th' public gardens are in full bloom an' are much frequented be childher rollin' hoops and sailin' boats in th' artificial lake. Th' autymobill speedway gives gr-reat satisfaction. Th' opening day iv th' steeplechase races was a success. Th' ilivator in th' left annex fell thirteen stories Thursday, but no wan was injured. Th' brokerage house iv Conem an' Comp'ny wint into th' hands iv a receiver to-day. Th' failure was due to th' refusal iv th' banks to lend anny more money on hat pools. Th' steeple iv th' Swedenborjan Church is undher repair. Th' _Daily Fog Horn_ has put in three new color presses an' will begin printin' a colored supplement Sunday next.' An' so it goes. It ain't a boat at all. It's a city.

"At laste I thought it was but Hannigan that come over in it says it's a boat. 'Ye must've had a grand time,' says I, 'in this floatin' palace, atin' ye'er fill iv sumchuse food an' gazin' at th' beautifully jooled ladies,' says I. 'Ah,' says I, 'th' wondhers iv science that cud put together a conthrivance th' like iv that,' says I. 'It's a boat,' says he. 'That's th' best I can say about it,' says he. 'Did ye not glide noiselessly through th' wather?' says I? 'I did not,' says he. 'Divvle th' glide. We b.u.mped along pretty fast an' th' injines made noises like injines an' th' ship creaked like anny ship.' 'An' wasn't th' food fine?' 'It depinded on th' weather. There was plenty iv it on good days, an' too much iv it on other days.' 'An' th' beautifully jooled ladies?' 'No wan knew whether th' ladies were beautifully jooled except th' lady that searched thim at th' custom house.

"'Don't ye make a mistake, Dooley,' says he. 'A boat's a boat. That's all it is. Annything ye can get at sea ye can get betther on land. A millyonaire is made as comfortable on an ocean liner as a longsh.o.r.eman on earth an' ye can play that comparison all th' way down to th' steerage. Whin I read about this here floatin' palace I says to mesilf: I'll add a little money and go acrost in oryental luxury. Whin I got aboord th' decks were crowded with happy people worryin' about their baggage an' wondherin' already whether th' inspector in New York wud get onto th' false bottom iv th' thrunks. I give th' old an' enfeebled English gintleman that carried me satchel a piece iv silver. He touched his cap to me an' says Cue. Cue is th' English f'r I thank ye 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' pa.s.sage.

"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 pa.s.sed 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 skysc.r.a.per 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 b.u.mp 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 h.o.r.n.y-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' const.i.tution, 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' seash.o.r.e 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 a.s.socyates 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 n.o.body 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 b.u.mpin' into each other, turn switches, put up th' simaph.o.r.e, 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 a.s.socyation 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 a union, an' shud demand a raise iv a millyon dollars a year, reduction iv wurrukin' time fr'm two to wan hour ivry week, th' closed shop, two apprentices f'r each bank an' no wan allowed to make money onless he cud show a union card? Whin th' sthrike comity waited on us we'd hoist our feet on th' kitchen table, light a seegar, polish our bone collar b.u.t.ton with th' sleeve iv our flannel shirt an' till thim to go to Bannagher.

"We'd say: 'Ye'er demands are onraisonable an' we will not submit. F'r years we have run th' shop almost at a loss. There are plenty iv men to take ye'er places. They may not be as efficient at first but they'll soon larn. Ye'er demands are refused an' ye can bang th' dure afther ye.' A fine chanct a millyonaire wud have thryin' to persuade ye be peaceful means fr'm takin' his job. Think iv him on th' dead line thryin' to coax ye not to go in but to stand by him as he would sit on ye if you were in th' same position. Wud ye or wud ye not lave ye'er coat in his hands as ye plunged in th' bank? They'd have to resort to vilence. Th' stock exchange wud go out in sympathy. Th' milishy wud be called out an' afther awhile th' financeers wud come back with their hats in their hands an' find their old places took be other men.

"No, sir, a sthrike iv financeers wudden't worry anny wan. 'Tis a sthrange thing whin we come to think iv it that th' less money a man gets f'r his wurruk, th' more nicissry it is to th' wurruld that he shud go on wurrukin'. Ye'er boss can go to Paris on a combination wedding an' divoorce thrip an' no wan bothers his head about him. But if ye shud go to Paris-excuse me f'r laughin' mesilf black in th' face-th' industhrees iv the counthry pines away.

"An' th' higher up a man regards his wurruk, th' less it amounts to. We cud manage to sc.r.a.pe along without electhrical injineers but we'd have a divvle iv a time without scavengers. Ye look down on th' fellow that dhrives th' dump cart, but if it wasn't f'r him ye'd niver be able to pursoo ye'er honorable mechanical profissyon iv pushin' th' barrow. Whin Andhrew Carnagie quit, ye wint on wurrukin'; if ye quit wurruk, he'll have to come back. P'raps that's th' reason th' wurrukin' man don't get more iv thim little pictures iv a buffalo in his pay envelope iv a Sat.u.r.dah night. If he got more money he wud do less wurruk. He has to be kept in thrainin'.

"Th' way to make a man useful to th' wurruld is to give him a little money an' a lot iv wurruk. An' 'tis th' on'y way to make him happy, too. I don't mean coa.r.s.e, mateeryal happiness like private yachts an' autymobills an' rich food an' other corrodin' pleasures. I mean something entirely diffr'ent. I don't know what I mean but I see in th' pa-apers th' other day that th' on'y road to happiness was hard wurruk. 'Tis a good theery. Some day I'm goin' to hire a hall an' preach it in Newport. I wudden't mintion it in Ar-rchy Road where wurruk abounds. I don't want to be run in f'r incitin' a riot.

"This pa-aper says th' farmer niver sthrikes. He hasn't got th' time to. He's too happy. A farmer is continted with his ten-acre lot. There's nawthin' to take his mind off his wurruk. He sleeps at night with his nose against th' shingled roof iv his little frame home an' dhreams iv cinch bugs. While th' stars are still alight he walks in his sleep to wake th' cow that left th' call f'r four o'clock. Thin it's ho! f'r feedin' th' pigs an' mendin' th' reaper. Th' sun arises as usual in th' east an' bein' a keen student iv nature, he picks a cabbage leaf to put in his hat. Breakfast follows, a gay meal beginnin' at nine an' endin' at nine-three. Thin it's off f'r th' fields where all day he sets on a bicycle seat an' reaps the bearded grain an' th' Hessian fly, with nawthin' but his own thoughts an' a couple iv horses to commune with. An' so he goes an' he's happy th' livelong day if ye don't get in ear-shot iv him. In winter he is employed keepin' th' cattle fr'm sufferin' his own fate an' writin' testymonyals iv dyspepsia cures. 'Tis sthrange I niver heerd a farmer whistle except on Sunday.

"No, sir, ye can't tell me that a good deal iv wurruk is good f'r anny man. A little wurruk is not bad, a little wurruk f'r th' stomach's sake an' to make ye sleep sound, a kind of nightcap, d'ye mind. But a gr-reat deal iv wurruk, especially in th' summer time, will hurt anny man that indulges in it. So, though I don't sympathize with sthrikers, I congratulate thim. Sthrike, says I, while the iron is hot an' ye'er most needed to pound it into a horseshoe. An' especially wud I advise ivrybody to sthrike whin th' weather is hot."

DRUGS

"What ails ye?" asked Mr. Dooley of Mr. Hennessy, who looked dejected.

"I'm a sick man," said Mr. Hennessy.

"Since th' picnic?"

"Now that I come to think iv it, it did begin th' day afther th' picnic," said Mr. Hennessy. "I've been to see Dock O'Leary. He give me this an' these here pills an' some powdhers besides. An' d'ye know, though I haven't taken anny iv thim yet, I feel betther already."

"Well, sir," said Mr. Dooley, "'tis a grand thing to be a doctor. A man that's a doctor don't have to buy anny funny papers to enjye life. Th' likes iv ye goes to a picnic an' has a pleasant, peaceful day in th' counthry dancin' breakdowns an' kickin' a football in th' sun an' ivry fifteen minyits or so washin' down a couple of dill-pickles with a bottle of white pop. Th' next day ye get what's comin' to ye in th' right place an' bein' a sthrong, hearty man that cudden't be kilt be annything less thin a safe fallin' on ye fr'm a twenty-story building ye know ye ar-re goin' to die. Th' good woman advises a mustard plasther but ye scorn th' suggestion. What good wud a mustard plasther be again this fatal epidemic that is ragin' inside iv ye? Besides a mustard plasther wud hurt. So th' good woman, frivilous crather that she is, goes back to her wurruk singin' a light chune. She knows she's goin' to have to put up with ye f'r some time to come. A mustard plasther, Hinnissy, is th' rale test iv whether a pain is goin' to kill ye or not. If the plasther is...o...b..arable ye can bet th' pain undherneath it is not.

"But ye know ye are goin' to die an' ye're not sure whether ye'll send f'r Father Kelly or th' doctor. Ye finally decide to save up Father Kelly f'r th' last an' ye sind f'r th' Dock. Havin' rescued ye fr'm th' jaws iv death two or three times befure whin ye had a sick headache th' Dock takes his time about comin', but just as ye are beginnin' to throw ye'er boots at th' clock an' show other signs iv what he calls rigem mortar, he rides up in his fine horse an' buggy. He gets out slowly, one foot at a time, hitches his horse an' ties a nose bag on his head. Thin he chats f'r two hundherd years with th' polisman on th' beat. He tells him a good story an' they laugh harshly.

"Whin th' polisman goes his way th' Dock meets th' good woman at th' dure an' they exchange a few wurruds about th' weather, th' bad condition iv th' sthreets, th' health iv Mary Ann since she had th' croup an' ye'ersilf. Ye catch th' wurruds, 'Grape Pie,' 'Canned Salmon,' 'Cast-iron digestion.' Still he doesn't come up. He tells a few stories to th' childher. He weighs th' youngest in his hands an' says: 'That's a fine boy ye have, Mrs. Hinnissy. I make no doubt he'll grow up to be a polisman.' He examines th' phottygraft alb.u.m an' asks if that isn't so-an'-so. An' all this time ye lay writhin' in mortal agony an' sayin' to ye'ersilf: 'Inhuman monsther, to lave me perish here while he chats with a callous woman that I haven't said annything but What? to f'r twinty years.'

"Ye begin to think there's a conspiracy against ye to get ye'er money befure he saunters into th' room an' says in a gay tone: 'Well, what d'ye mane be tyin' up wan iv th' gr-reat industhrees iv our nation be stayin' away fr'm wurruk f'r a day?' 'Dock,' says ye in a feeble voice, 'I have a tur'ble pain in me abdumdum. It reaches fr'm here to here,' makin' a rough sketch iv th' burned disthrict undher th' blanket. 'I felt it comin' on last night but I didn't say annything f'r fear iv alarmin' me wife, so I simply groaned,' says ye.

"While ye ar-re describin' ye'er pangs, he walks around th' room lookin' at th' pictures. Afther ye've got through he comes over an says: 'Lave me look at ye'er tongue. 'Hum,' he says, holdin' ye'er wrist an' bowin' through th' window to a frind iv his on a sthreet car. 'Does that hurt?' he says, stabbin' ye with his thumbs in th' suburbs iv th' pain. 'Ye know it does,' says ye with a groan. 'Don't do that again. Ye scratched me.' He hurls ye'er wrist back at ye an' stands at th' window lookin' out at th' firemen acrost th' sthreet playin' dominoes. He says nawthin' to ye an' ye feel like th' prisoner while th' foreman iv th' jury is fumblin' in his inside pocket f'r th' verdict. Ye can stand it no longer. 'Dock,' says he, 'is it annything fatal? I'm not fit to die but tell me th' worst an' I will thry to bear it. 'Well,' says he, 'ye have a slight interioritis iv th' semi-colon. But this purscription ought to fix ye up all right. Ye'd betther take it over to th' dhrug sth.o.r.e an' have it filled ye'ersilf. In th' manetime I'd advise ye to be careful iv ye'er dite. I wudden't ate annything with gla.s.s or a large percintage iv plasther iv Paris in it.' An' he goes away to write his bill.

"I wondher why ye can always read a doctor's bill an' ye niver can read his purscription. F'r all ye know, it may be a short note to th' dhruggist askin' him to hit ye on th' head with a pestle. An' it's a good thing ye can't read it. If ye cud, ye'd say: 'I'll not cash this in at no dhrug store. I'll go over to Dooley's an' get th' rale thing.' So, afther thryin' to decipher this here corner iv a dhress patthern, ye climb into ye'er clothes f'r what may be ye'er last walk up Ar-rchy Road. As ye go along ye begin to think that maybe th' Dock knows ye have th' Asiatic cholery an' was onl'y thryin' to jolly ye with his manner iv dealin' with ye. As ye get near th' dhrug store ye feel sure iv it, an' 'tis with th' air iv a man without hope that ye hand th' paper to a young pharmycist who is mixin' a two-cent stamp f'r a lady customer. He hands it over to a scientist who is compoundin' an ice-cream soda f'r a child, with th' remark: 'O'Leary's writin' is gettin' worse an' worse. I can't make this out at all.' 'Oh,' says th' chemist, layin' down his spoon, 'that's his old cure f'r th' bellyache. Ye'll find a bucket iv it in th' back room next to th' coal scuttle.'

"It's a gr-reat medicine he give ye. It will do ye good no matther what ye do with it. I wud first thry poorin' some iv it in me hair. If that don't help ye see how far ye can throw th' bottle into th' river. Ye feel betther already. Ye ought to write to th' medical journals about th' case. It is a remarkable cure. 'M-- H-- was stricken with excruciating tortures in th' gastric regions followin' an unusually severe outing in th' counthry. F'r a time it looked as though it might be niciss'ry to saw out th' infected area, but as this wud lave an ugly s.p.a.ce between legs an' chin, it was determined to apply Jam. Gin. VIII. Th' remedy acted instantly. Afther carryin' th' bottle uncorked f'r five minyits in his inside pocket th' patient showed signs iv recovery an' is now again in his accustomed health.'

"Yes, sir, if I was a doctor I'd be ayether laughin' or cryin' all th' time. I'd be laughin' over th' cases that I was called into whin I wasn't needed an' cryin' over th' cases where I cud do no good. An' that wud be most iv me cases.