Books: Observations by Mr. Dooley
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Finley Peter Dunne >> Observations by Mr. Dooley
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"That's all right," said Mr. Hennessy; "but Dugan rayturned th'
dog las' night."
"Oh, thin," said Mr. Dooley, calmly, "this is not a case f'r
Sherlock Holmes but wan f'r th' polis. That's th' throuble,
Hinnissy, with th' detictive iv th' story. Nawthin' happens in
rale life that's complicated enough f'r him. If th' Prisidint iv
th' Epworth League was a safe-blower be night th' man that'd catch
him'd be a la-ad with gr-reat powers iv observation an' thrained
habits iv raisonin'. But crime, Hinnissy, is a pursoot iv th'
simple minded--that is, catchable crime is a pursoot iv th'
simple-minded. Th' other kind, th' uncatchable kind that is took
up be men iv intellict is called high fi-nance. I've known manny
criminals in me time, an' some iv thim was fine men an' very happy
in their home life, an' a more simple, pasth'ral people ye niver
knew. Wan iv th' ablest bank robbers in th' counthry used to live
near me--he ownded a flat buildin'--an' befure he'd turn in to bed
afther rayturnin' fr'm his night's wurruk, he'd go out in th' shed
an' chop th' wood. He always wint into th' house through a thransom
f'r fear iv wakin' his wife who was a delicate woman an' a shop
lifter. As I tell ye he was a man without guile, an' he wint about
his jooties as modestly as ye go about ye'ers. I don't think in
th' long run he made much more thin ye do. Wanst in a while, he'd
get hold iv a good bunch iv money, but manny other times afther
dhrillin' all night through a steel dure, all he'd find 'd be a
short crisp note fr'm th' prisidint iv th' bank. He was often
discouraged, an' he tol' me wanst if he had an income iv forty
dollars th' month, he'd retire fr'm business an' settle down on
a farm.
"No, sir, criminals is th' simplest crathers in th' wide wide
wurruld--innocent, sthraight-forward, dangerous people, that haven't
sinse enough to be honest or prosperous. Th' extint iv their
schamin' is to break a lock on a dure or sweep a handful iv change
fr'm a counter or dhrill a hole in a safe or administher th' strong
short arm to a tired man takin' home his load. There are no
mysteryous crimes excipt thim that happens to be. Th' ordh'nry
crook, Hinnissy, goes around ringin' a bell an' disthributin'
hand-bills announcin' his business. He always breaks through a
window instead iv goin' through an open dure, an' afther he's done
annything that he thinks is commindable, he goes to a neighborin'
liquor saloon, stands on th' pool table an' confides th' secret
to ivrybody within sound iv his voice. That's why Mulligan is a
betther detictive thin Sherlock Holmes or me. He can't put two
an' two together an' he has no powers iv deduction, but he's a
hard dhrinker an' a fine sleuth. Sherlock Holmes niver wud've
caught that frind iv mine. Whin th' safe iv th' Ninth Rational
Bank was blowed, he wud've put two an' two together an' arristed
me. But me frind wint away lavin' a hat an' a pair iv cuffs marked
with his name in th' safe, an' th' polis combined these discoveries
with th' well-known fact that Muggins was a notoryous safe blower
an' they took him in. They found him down th' sthreet thryin' to
sell a bushel basket full iv Alley L stock. I told ye he was a
simple man. He ralized his ambition f'r an agaracoolchral life.
They give him th' care iv th' cows at Joliet."
"Did he rayform?" asked Mr. Hennessy.
"No," said Mr. Dooley; "he escaped. An' th' way he got out wud
baffle th' injinooty iv a Sherlock Holmes."
"How did he do it?" asked Mr. Hennessy.
"He climbed over th' wall," said Mr. Dooley.
International Amenities
"Be hivins," said Mr. Dooley, "I wisht I'd been there."
"Where?" asked Mr. Hennessy.
"At th' bankit iv th' Ancyent an' Hon'rable Chamber iv Commerce
in New York," said Mr. Dooley. "'Tis a hard fate that compels me
to live out here on th' prairies among th' aborig'nal Americans
fr'm Poland an' Bohaymya. Me heart at times is burstin' f'r to
jine in th' festivities iv me fellow Britons in New York. F'r I'm
a British subjick, Hinnissy. I wasn't born wan. I was born in
Ireland. But I have a little money put away, an' ivry American
that has larned to make wan dollar sthick to another is ex-officio,
as Hogan says, a British subjick. We've adopted a foster father.
Some iv us ain't anny too kind to th' ol' gintleman. In th'
matther iv th' Nicaragoon Canal we have recently pushed him over
an' took about all he had. But our hearts feels th' love iv th'
parent counthry, though our hands is rebellyous, an' ivry year me
fellow-merchants gets together in New York an' f'rgets th' cares
iv th' wool an' tallow business in an outburst iv devotion to th'
ol' land fr'm which our fathers sprung or was sprung be th'
authorities.
"Th' prisidint iv th' bankit was me frind Morse K. Cheeseshop a
mimber iv an ol' Yorkshire fam'ly born in th' West Riding iv Long
Island befure th' Crimeyan War. At his right sat th' Sicrety iv
state f'r th' colony, an' at his left me frind th' ambassadure to
th' Coort iv Saint James. Why we shud sind an ambassadure I don't
know, though it may be an ol' custom kept up f'r to plaze th'
people iv Omaha. He's a good man, th' ambassadure, who is
inthrajoocin' th' American joke in England. Hogan says th'
diff'rence between an American joke an' an English joke is th'
place to laugh. In an American joke ye laugh just afther th' point
if at all, but in an English joke ye laugh ayether befure th'
point or afther th' decease iv th' joker. Th' ambassadure hopes
to inthrajooce a cross iv th' two that ye don't laugh at at all
that will be suited to th' English market. His expeeriments so
far has been encouragin'.
"At th' conclusion iv th' eatin' th' chairman, Sir Morse Cheeseshop
inthrajooced th' sicrety iv state in a few well chosen wurruds.
'Fellow Colonists,' says he, 'I desire to presint His Majesty's
ripresentative in this counthry who is doin' more thin anny other
man in th' plastherin' business,' he says. 'Owin',' he says, 'to
mimbers iv th' Sinit lavin' a hod iv bricks fall on his head
recently, he has not been able to do much on th' job,' he says.
'But he has brought his throwel and morthar here to-night an' if
ye will kindly lave off singing' "Brittanya rules th' prosperity
wave" f'r a minyit he'll give ye an exhibition iv how he wurruks.
Me Lords an' gintlemen, th' sicrety iv state:'
"'Fellow subjicks,' says th' sicrety iv state, 'diplomacy is far
diff'rent business thin it used to be. (A voice, 'Good f'r you.')
In th' days iv Bismarck, Gladstun an' Charles Francis Adams 'twas
a case iv inthrigue an' deceit. Now it is as simple as a pair iv
boots. In fifteen years th' whole nature iv man is so changed that
a diplomat has on'y to be honest, straight-forward an' manly an'
concede ivrything an' he will find his opponents will meet him
half way an' take what he gives. Unforchunitly diplomacy on'y
goes as far as the dure. It is onable to give protection to th'
customer, so whin he laves th' shop th' sthrong arm men iv th'
Sinit knocks him down an' takes fr'm him ivrything he got inside
an' more too. Di-plomacy has become a philanthropic pursoot like
shop-keepin', but politics, me lords, is still th' same ol' spoort
iv highway robb'ry. But I done what I cud to protict th' intherests
iv th' mother, father an' brother-in-law counthry, an' between
you an' me if I don't desarve th' Victorya cross f'r presintin'
that threaty to th' Sinit nobody does. I will on'y say that
hinceforth th' policy iv this gover'mint will be as befure not to
bully a sthrong power or wrong a weak, but will remain thrue to
th' principle iv wrongin' th' sthrong an' bullyin' th' weak.'
"Th' sicrety iv state was followed be th' ambassadure. 'I wish
to tell ye,' said he, 'what a good time I had in England. Befure
I wint there I was sthrongly prejudiced again' England. I thought
it was th' noblest counthry on which, as Dan'l Webster says, th'
sun niver set without hatchin' out a new colony. But I did it a
great injustice. It is betther thin what I thought. It does not
care f'r chaff or gush such as goes down in this counthry. All an
English gintleman demands is that ye shall be ye'ersilf, frank,
manly an' sincere. A little cry on th' shouldher, a firm grasp
iv th' hand, a brief acknowledgment that we owe our language an'
are payin' it back, our lithrachoor an' our boots to him, an' his
heart opens. He cannot conceal his admiration f'r ye. He goes
away. Ah, niver will I f'rget th' day I peeked out iv me bed-room
window at Windsor Castle an' see manny iv th' sturdy lielists here
befure me bein' received in th' back yard be th' king. I mind
well th' wurruds that fell fr'm his lips whin ye left to take lunch
in th' rile woodshed. "Chote," he says, "thim were a fine lot iv
Americans," he says. "What thribe did ye say they belonged to?
Soos?" he says.'
"So th' avenin' proceeded until it was time to go home, whin th'
chairman proposed th' customary toast. 'Me lords an' gintlemen,
charge ye'er glasses an' jine me in a toast,' he says. 'His majesty
Edward th' Sivinth, iv Gr-reat Britain an' possibly Ireland, iv
Inja, Egypt, iv Austhralya, iv South Africa in a sinse, an' iv th'
Dominions beyant th' sea, includin' New York, King, Definder iv
th' Faith. I hope I got it all in.' 'Ye did,' said th' ambassadure.
An' th' toast was dhrunk with enthusyasm. Other toasts was dhrunk
to th' rile fam'ly an' th' Protestant Succession, to th' Jook iv
Argyle who used to own Andhrew Carnaygie, an' in manny cases th'
rile merchants carrid th' glasses away in their pockets. Jus' as
th' comp'ny was breakin' up a man whose gaiters creaked rose an'
said: 'Isn't there wan more toast?' 'Good hivins have I f'rgotten
somewan?' said Lord Cheeseshop. 'That was all there was in th'
book. Who d'ye mane?' he says. 'I mane th' prisidint iv th'
United States,' says th' man, who comes fr'm Baraboo. 'Oh him,'
says th' chairman in a relieved tone. 'Well, annywan that wants
to can dhrink his health at th' bar,' he says.
"As th' comp'ny filed out a band was playin' in th' adjinin' room
where they was a meetin' iv th' Amalgamated Stove-polish men fr'm
th' neighborhood iv Terry Hut. 'What's that outlandish chune?'
says Lord Cheeseshop. ''Tis th' naytional air, west iv Hoboken,'
says th' man fr'm Baraboo. 'What's it called?' says Lord Cheeseshop.
'Th' Star Spangled Banner,' says th' man. 'Well,' says Lord
Cheeseshop, ''tis very intherestin',' he says. ''Tis th' on'y
Indyan music I iver heerd,' he says."
"Ah well," said Mr. Hennessy, " who cares?"
"Faith I think ye're right," said Mr. Dooley. "A man will swallow
annything with a dinner. What is good f'r what Hogan calls th'
iliminthry canal has nawthin' to do with th' Nicaragoon Canal an'
I'd be more afraid iv Lord Cheeseshop if he thought th' toast an'
didn't say it. Our Anglo-Saxon relations is always a give-away
--on some wan."
Art Patronage
"I see in this pa-aper," said Mr. Dooley, "they'se a fellow kickin'
because an American painther ain't got anny chanst again' foreign
compytition."
"Sure," said Mr. Hennessy; "he's aisy displazed. I niver knew th'
business to be betther. Wages is high an' 'tis a comfortable
thrade barrin' colic."
"I don't mane that kind iv painthers," said Mr. Dooley. "I don't
mane th' wans that paint ye'er barn, but th' wans that paints a
pitcher iv ye'er barn an' wants to sell it to ye f'r more thin th'
barn is worth. This man says no matther how industhrees an American
painther is, no matther if he puts on his overalls arly in th'
mornin' an' goes out with a laddher an' whales away all day long,
he can hardly arn a livin', while th' pauper artists iv Europe is
fairly rowlin' in th' lap iv luxury. Manny a la-ad that started
in life with th' intintion iv makin' th' wurruld f'rget that what's
his name--Hogan's frind--ye know who I mane--Michael Angelo--ever
lived, is now glad to get a job decoratin' mountain scenery with
th' latest news about th' little liver pills.
"Ye see, Hinnissy, whin a man gets hold iv a large hatful iv money,
wan iv th' first things he does is to buy some art. Up to th'
time whin th' top blew off th' stock market, he bought his art
out iv th' front window iv a news an' station'ry shop or had it
put in be th' paperhanger. He took th' Sundah pa-apers that ar-re
a gr-reat help if ye're collectin' art, an' he had some pitchers
iv fruit that looks nachral enough to ate, d'ye mind, a paintin'
iv a deer like th' wan he shot at in th' Manotowish counthry in
Eighty-eight, an' a livin' likeness iv a Lake Supeeryor white fish
on a silver plate. That was th' peeryod, mind ye, whin th' iron
dogs howled on his lawn an' people come miles an' miles f'r to see
a grotto made out iv relics iv th' Chicago fire.
"Manetime his daughter was illustratin' suspinders an' illuminatin'
china plates an' becomin' artistic, an' afther awhile whin th'
time come that he had to keep a man at th' dure to sweep out th'
small bills, she give him a good push to'rd betther things.
Besides, his pardner down th' sthreet had begun collectin' pitchers,
an' ivry time he wint abroad th' mannyfacthrers iv pitcher frames
bought new autymobills f'r th' Champs All Easy. So 'twas a soft
matther f'r our frind Higbie to be persuaded that he ought to be
a pathron iv art, an' he wint abroad detarmined to buy a bunch iv
chromos that'd make people come out iv th' gallery iv his pardner
down th' sthreet stiflin' their laughter in their hands.
"Now ye'd think seein' that he made his money in this counthry,
he'd pathronize American art. Ye'd believe he'd sind wurrud down
to his agent f'r to secure forty feet iv Evansville be moonlight
an' be con-tint. But he don't.
"Ye don't catch Higbie changin' iv anny iv his dividends on
domestic finished art. He jumps on a boat an' goes sthraight
acrost to th' centhral deepo. The first thing he gets is a
porthrait iv himsilf be wan iv th' gr-reat modhren masthers,
Sargent be name. This here Sargent, Hogan tells me, used to live
in this counthry, an' faith, if he'd stayed here ye might see him
to-day on a stagin'. But he had a mind in his head an' he tore
off f'r Europe th' way a duck hunter goes f'r a rice swamp. Afther
awhile, Higbie shows up, an' says he: 'I'm Higbie iv th' Non-Adhesive
Consolidated Glue Company,' he says. 'Can ye do me?' 'I can an'
will,' says Sargent. 'I'll do ye good. How much have ye got?'
he says. 'Get some more an' come around,' he says. An' Higbie
puts on his Prince Albert coat an' laves it open so that ye can
see his watch charm--th' crown iv Poland with th' Kohinoor in th'
top iv it--an' me frind Sargent does him brown an' red. He don't
give him th' pitcher iv coorse. If ye have ye'er porthrait painted
be a gr-reat painther, it's ye'er porthrait but 'tis his pitcher,
an' he keeps it till ye don't look that way anny more. So Higbie's
porthrait is hung up in a gallery an' th' doctors brings people
to see it that ar-re sufferin' fr'm narvous dyspepsia to cheer
thim up. Th' pa-apers says 'tis fine. 'Number 108 shows Sargent
at his best. There is the same marvellous ticknick that th' great
master displayed in his cillybrated take-off on Mrs. Maenheimer
in last year's gallery. Th' skill an' ease with which th' painther
has made a monkey iv his victim are beyond praise. Sargent has
torn th' sordid heart out iv th' wretched crather an' exposed it
to th' wurruld. Th' wicked, ugly little eyes, th' crooked nose,
th' huge graspin' hands, tell th' story iv this miscreant's
character as completely as if they were written in so manny wurruds,
while th' artist, with wondherful malice, has painted onto th'
face a smile iv sickenin' silf-complacency that is positively
disgustin'. No artist iv our day has succeeded so well in showin'
up th' maneness iv th' people he has mugged. We ondershtand that
th' atrocious Higbie paid wan hundherd thousan' dollars f'r this
comic valentine. It is worth th' money to ivrybody but him.'
"But Higbie don't see th' pa-aper. He's over in Paris. Th' chimes
are rung, bonefires are lighted in th' sthreets an' th' Pannyma
Comp'ny declares a dividend whin he enters th' city. They'se such
a demand f'r paint that th' supply runs out an' manny gr-reat
imprishonist pitcher facthries is foorced to use bluein'. Higbie
ordhers paintin's be th' ton, th' r-runnin' foot, th' foot pound,
th' car load. He insthructs th' pitcher facthries to wurruk night
an' day till his artistic sowl is satisfied. We follow his coorse
in th' pa-apers. 'Th' cillybrated Gainsborough that niver wud be
missed has been captured be Misther Higbie, th' American millyionaire.
Th' price paid is said to be wan hundherd thousan' dollars. Th'
pitcher riprisints a lady in a large hat fondlin' a cow. It is
wan iv th' finest Gainsboroughs painted be th' Gainsborough
Mannyfacthrin' comp'ny iv Manchester. At th' las' public sale,
it was sold f'r thirty dollars. Misther Higbie has also purchased
th' cillybrated Schmartzmeister Boogooroo, wan iv th' mos' horrible
examples iv this delightful painther's style. He is now negotyatin'
with th' well-known dealer Moosoo Mortheimer f'r th' intire output
iv th' Barabazah School. Yisterdah in a call on th' janial dealer,
th' name iv th' cillybrated painther Mooney was mintioned. "How
manny pitchers has he painted?" "Four hundherd and forty-three
thousan' at ilivin o'clock to-day," says th' dealer. "But four
hundherd thousan' iv thim ar-re in America." "Get th' r-rest iv
thim f'r me," says th' connysoor. "What did ye say th' gintleman's
name was?" We ondershtand that Misther Mooney has had to put in
two new four-deck machines to meet th' ordhers, which include
thirty green an' mauve haystacks, forty blue barns or childher at
play, an' no less thin ninety riprisintations iv mornin' at sea,
moonlight avenin', flock iv sheep, or whativer ye may call thim.'
"An' whin he comes home, he hangs thim in his house, so that his
frinds can't turn around without takin' off a pasthral scene on
their coats, an' he pastes th' price on th' frame, an' whin he
dies, he laves his pitcher to some definceless art museem. An'
there ye ar-re.
"So I tell ye, Hinnissy, if I was a young an' ambitious American
painther, I'd go to Europe. Whin Hannigan was over there, he met
a young man that painted that fine head iv Murphy that looks so
much like Casey that hangs in Schwartzmeister's back room. 'Ar-re
ye still at th' art?' says Hannigan. 'I am,' says th' young man.
'How does it go?' asks Hannigan. 'I've more thin I can do,' says
th' young man. 'Since steel rails got so high, I've had to hire
an assistant. Ye see, I didn't get on in Chicago. Me "Bridgepoort
in a Fog" was th' on'y pitcher I sold, an' a sausage mannyfacthrer
bought that because his facthry was in it. I come over here, an'
so's me pitchers will have a fair show, I sign annywan's name ye
want to thim. Ye've heerd iv Michael Angelo? That's me. Ye've
heerd iv Gainsborough? That's me. Ye've heerd iv Millet, th' boy
that painted th' pitcher give away with th' colored supplimint iv
th' Sundah Howl? That's me. Yis, sir, th' rale name iv near ivry
distinguished painther iv modhren times is Remsen K. Smith. Whin
ye go home, if ye see a good painther an' glazier that'd like a
job as assistant Rimbrandt f'r th' American thrade, sind him to
me. F'r,' he says, 'th' on'y place an American artist can make a
livin' is here. Charity f'r artists,' he says, 'begins abroad,'
he says."
"Well," said Mr. Hennessy, "perhaps a bum Europeen pitcher is
betther thin a good American pitcher."
"Perhaps so," said Mr. Dooley. "I think it is so. Annyhow, no
matther how bad a painther he is, annywan that can get money out
iv an American millyionaire is an artist an' desarves it. There's
th' rale art. I wish it was taught in th' schools. I'd like to
see an exhibition at th' Museem with 'Check iv American Gintleman,
dhrawn fr'm life,' hung on th' wall."
Immigration
"Well, I see Congress has got to wurruk again," said Mr. Dooley.
"The Lord save us fr'm harm," said Mr. Hennessy.
"Yes, sir," said Mr. Dooley, "Congress has got to wurruk again,
an' manny things that seems important to a Congressman 'll be
brought up befure thim. 'Tis sthrange that what's a big thing to
a man in Wash'nton, Hinnissy, don't seem much account to me.
Divvle a bit do I care whether they dig th' Nicaragoon Canal or
cross th' Isthmus in a balloon; or whether th' Monroe docthrine
is enfoorced or whether it ain't; or whether th' thrusts is abolished
as Teddy Rosenfelt wud like to have thim or encouraged to go on
with their neefaryous but magnificent entherprises as th' Prisidint
wud like; or whether th' water is poured into th' ditches to reclaim
th' arid lands iv th' West or th' money f'r thim to fertilize th'
arid pocket-books iv th' conthractors; or whether th' Injun is
threated like a depindant an' miserable thribesman or like a free
an' indepindant dog; or whether we restore th' merchant marine to
th' ocean or whether we lave it to restore itsilf. None iv these
here questions inthrests me, an' be me I mane you an' be you I
mane ivrybody. What we want to know is, ar-re we goin' to have
coal enough in th' hod whin th' cold snap comes; will th' plumbin'
hold out, an' will th' job last.
"But they'se wan question that Congress is goin' to take up that
you an' me are intherested in. As a pilgrim father that missed
th' first boats, I must raise me claryon voice again' th' invasion
iv this fair land be th' paupers an' arnychists iv effete Europe.
Ye bet I must--because I'm here first. 'Twas diff'rent whin I
was dashed high on th' stern an' rockbound coast. In thim days
America was th' refuge iv th' oppressed iv all th' wurruld. They
cud come over here an' do a good job iv oppressin' thimsilves.
As I told ye I come a little late. Th' Rosenfelts an' th' Lodges
bate me be at laste a boat lenth, an' be th' time I got here they
was stern an' rockbound thimsilves. So I got a gloryous rayciption
as soon as I was towed off th' rocks. Th' stars an' sthripes
whispered a welcome in th' breeze an' a shovel was thrust into me
hand an' I was pushed into a sthreet excyvatin' as though I'd been
born here. Th' pilgrim father who bossed th' job was a fine ol'
puritan be th' name iv Doherty, who come over in th' Mayflower
about th' time iv th' potato rot in Wexford, an' he made me think
they was a hole in th' breakwather iv th' haven iv refuge an' some
iv th' wash iv th' seas iv opprission had got through. He was a
stern an' rockbound la-ad himsilf, but I was a good hand at loose
stones an' wan day--but I'll tell ye about that another time.
"Annyhow, I was rayceived with open arms that sometimes ended in
a clinch. I was afraid I wasn't goin' to assimilate with th'
airlyer pilgrim fathers an' th' instichoochions iv th' counthry,
but I soon found that a long swing iv th' pick made me as good
as another man an' it didn't require a gr-reat intellect, or
sometimes anny at all, to vote th' dimmycrat ticket, an' befure
I was here a month, I felt enough like a native born American to
burn a witch. Wanst in a while a mob iv intilligint collajeens,
whose grandfathers had bate me to th' dock, wud take a shy at me
Pathrick's Day procission or burn down wan iv me churches, but
they got tired iv that befure long; 'twas too much like wurruk.
"But as I tell ye, Hinnissy, 'tis diff'rent now. I don't know why
'tis diff'rent but 'tis diff'rent. 'Tis time we put our back
again' th' open dure an' keep out th' savage horde. If that cousin
iv ye'ers expects to cross, he'd betther tear f'r th' ship. In a
few minyits th' gates 'll be down an' whin th' oppressed wurruld
comes hikin' acrost to th' haven iv refuge, they'll do well to put
a couplin' pin undher their hats, f'r th' Goddess iv Liberty 'll
meet thim at th' dock with an axe in her hand. Congress is goin'
to fix it. Me frind Shaughnessy says so. He was in yisterdah an'
says he: ''Tis time we done something to make th' immigration laws
sthronger,' says he. 'Thrue f'r ye, Miles Standish,' says I; 'but
what wud ye do?' 'I'd keep out th' offscourin's iv Europe,' says
he. 'Wud ye go back?' says I. 'Have ye'er joke,' says he. ''Tis
not so seeryus as it was befure ye come,' says I. 'But what ar-re
th' immygrants doin' that's roonous to us?' I says.
'Well,' says he, 'they're arnychists,' he says; 'they don't
assymilate with th' counthry,' he says. 'Maybe th' counthry's
digestion has gone wrong fr'm too much rich food,' says I; 'perhaps
now if we'd lave off thryin' to digest Rockyfellar an' thry a
simple diet like Schwartzmeister, we wudden't feel th' effects iv
our vittels,' I says. 'Maybe if we'd season th' immygrants a
little or cook thim thurly, they'd go down betther,' I says.
"'They're arnychists, like Parsons,' he says. 'He wud've been an
immygrant if Texas hadn't been admitted to th' Union,' I says.
'Or Snolgosh,' he says. 'Has Mitchigan seceded?' I says. 'Or
Gittoo,' he says. 'Who come fr'm th' effete monarchies iv Chicago,
west iv Ashland Av'noo,' I says. 'Or what's-his-name, Wilkes
Booth,' he says. 'I don't know what he was--maybe a Boolgharyen,'
says I. 'Well, annyhow,' says he, 'they're th' scum iv th' earth.'
'They may be that,' says I; 'but we used to think they was th'
cream iv civilization,' I says. 'They're off th' top annyhow. I
wanst believed 'twas th' best men iv Europe come here, th' la-ads
that was too sthrong and indepindant to be kicked around be a
boorgomasther at home an' wanted to dig out f'r a place where they
cud get a chanst to make their way to th' money. I see their sons
fightin' into politics an' their daughters tachin' young American
idee how to shoot too high in th' public school, an' I thought
they was all right. But I see I was wrong. Thim boys out there
towin' wan heavy foot afther th' other to th' rowlin' mills is all
arnychists. There's warrants out f'r all names endin' in 'inski,
an' I think I'll board up me windows, f'r,' I says, 'if immygrants
is as dangerous to this counthry as ye an' I an' other pilgrim
fathers believe they are, they'se enough iv thim sneaked in already
to make us aborigines about as infloointial as the prohibition
vote in th' Twinty-ninth Ward. They'll dash again' our stern an'
rock-bound coast till they bust it,' says I.
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