“‘Th’ Pickaways carrid off all th’ honors in th’ sewer-diggin’ contest yesterdah, defatin’ th’ Spadewells be five holes to wan.  Th’ shovel wurruk iv Cassidy th’ banker was spicially noticeable.  Th’ colors iv th’ Pickaways was red flannel undhershirts an’ dark brown trousers.

“‘Raycreations iv rich men:  Jawn W. Grates an’ J. Pierpont Morgan ar-re to have a five days’ shinglin’ contest at Narragansett Pier.  George Gold is thrainin’ f’r th’ autumn plumbin’ jimkanny.  Mitchigan avnoo is tore up fr’m Van Buren sthreet to th’ belt line in priparation f’r th’ contest in sthreet layin’between mimbers iv th’ Assocyation iv More-Thin-Rich Spoorts.  Th’ sledge teams is completed but a few good tampers an’ wather men is needed.’

“An’ why not, Hinnissy?  If ’tis fun to wurruk why not do some rale wurruk?  If ’tis spoort to run an autymobill, why not run a locymotive?  If dhrivin’ a horse in a cart is a game, why not dhrive a delivery wagon an’ carry things around?  Sure, I s’pose th’ raison a rich man can’t undherstand why wages shud go higher is because th’ rich can’t see why annybody shud be paid f’r annything so amusin’ as wurruk.  I bet ye Higgins is wondherin’ at this moment why he was paid so much f’r puttin’ rings around a bar’l.

“No, sir, what’s a rich man’s raycreation is a poor man’s wurruk.  Th’ poor ar-re th’ on’y people that know how to injye wealth.  Me idee iv settin’ things sthraight is to have th’ rich who wurruk because they like it, do th’ wurruk f’r th’ poor who wud rather rest.  I’ll be happy th’ day I see wan iv th’ Hankerbilts pushin’ ye’er little go-cart up th’ platform while ye set in th’ shade iv a three an’ cheer him on his way.  I’m sure he’d do it if ye called it a spoort an’ tol him th’ first man to th’ dump wud be entitled to do it over again against sthronger men nex’ week.  Wud ye give him a tin cup that he cud put his name on?  Wud ye, Hinnissy?  I’m sure ye wud.”

“Why do they do it?” asked Mr. Hennessy.

“I dinnaw,” said Mr. Dooley, “onless it is that th’ wan great object iv ivry man’s life is to get tired enough to sleep.  Ivrything seems to be some kind iv wurruk.  Wurruk is wurruk if ye’re paid to do it an’ it’s pleasure if ye pay to be allowed to do it.”

The Names of a Week

“What’s goin’ on this week in th’ papers?” asked Mr. Hennessy.

“Ivrything,” said Mr. Dooley.  “It’s been a turbylint week.  I can hardly sleep iv nights thinkin’ iv th’ doin’s iv people.  Th’ campinily at Venice has fallen down.  ‘Twas built in 1604 be th’ Beezantiums an’ raystored in 1402 be th’ Dogs.  It fell down because th’ foundations was weak, because th’ wind blew, because th’ beautiful figure iv th’ goolden angel on top iv it was fifteen feet high.  It will be rebuilt or maybe not.  Th’ king iv Italy has given thirty-three billion liars to put it up again, an’ siv’ral ladin’ American archytects have offered to do th’ job, makin’ an office buildin’ iv it.  Th’ campinily was wan iv th’ proudest monymints iv Italy an’ was used as a bell-tower at times, an’ at other times as a gazabo where anny American cud take a peek at th’ gran’ canal an’ compare it with th’ Erie, th’ Pannyma an’ th’ dhrainage iv the same name.