on torts’ is thryin’ to dispose iv th’ ashes be throwin’ thim in th’ air on a windy day, an’ th’ bright boy that took th’ silver ware f’r th’ essay on ne exeats an’ their relation to life is plannin’ a uniform that will be sarviceable an’ constitchoochinal f’r th’ brave men that wurruks on th’ city dumps.  An’ wan day th’ main rayformer goes out expictin’ to rayceive th’ thanks iv th’ community an’ th’ public that has jus’ got out iv jail f’r lettin’ th’ wather run too long in th’ bath tub rises up an’ cries:  ‘Back to th’ Univarsity Settlemint.’  Th’ man with th’ di’mon’ in his shirt front comes home an’ pushes th’ honest lawyers down th’ steps, an’ a dishonest horse shoer shoes th’ city’s horses well, an’ a crooked plumber does th’ city’s plumbin’ securely, an’ a rascally polisman that may not be avarse to pickin’ up a bet but will always find out whin Pathrolman Scanlan slept on his beat, takes hold iv th’ polis foorce, an’ we raysume our nachral condition iv illagal merrimint.  An’ th’ rayformer spinds th’ rest iv his life tellin’ us where we are wrong.  He’s good at that.  On’y he don’t undherstand that people wud rather be wrong an’ comfortable thin right in jail.”

“I don’t like a rayformer,” said Mr. Hennessy.

“Or anny other raypublican,” said Mr. Dooley.

Work and Sport

“A hard time th’ rich have injyin’ life,” said Mr. Dooley.

“I’d thrade with thim,” said Mr. Hennessy.

“I wud not,” said Mr. Dooley. “’Tis too much like hard wurruk.  If I iver got hold iv a little mound iv th’ money, divvle th’ bit iv hardship wud I inflict on mesilf.  I’d set on a large Turkish sofa an’ have dancin’ girls dancin’ an’ a mandolin orchesthree playin’ to me.  I wudden’t move a step without bein’ carrid.  I’d go to bed with th’ lark an’ get up with th’ night watchman.  If annywan suggested physical exercise to me, I’d give him forty dollars to go away.  I’d hire a prize fighter to do me fightin’ f’r me, a pedesthreen to do me walkin’, a jockey to do me ridin’, an’ a colledge pro-fissor to do me thinkin’.  Here I’d set with a naygur fannin’ me with osterich feathers, lookin’ ca’mly out through me stained glass windies on th’ rollin’ mills, smokin’ me good five cint seegar an’ rejicin’ to know how bad ye mus’ be feelin’ ivry time ye think iv me hoorded wealth.

“But that ain’t th’ way it comes out, Hinnissy.  Higgins, the millyionaire, had th’ same idee as me whin he was beginnin’ to breed money with a dollar he ownded an’ a dollar he took fr’m some wan that wasn’t there at th’ time.  While he was hammerin’ hoops on a bar’l or dhrivin’ pegs into a shoe, he’d stop wanst in a while to wipe th’ sweat off his brow whin th’ boss wasn’t lookin’ an’ he’d say to himsilf:  ’If I iver get it, I’ll have a man wheel me around on a chair.’  But as his stable grows an’ he herds large dhroves down to th’ bank ivry week, he changes his mind, an’ whin