Books: Observations by Mr. Dooley
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Finley Peter Dunne >> Observations by Mr. Dooley
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"A lady down east woke her husband up to tell him there was a
burglar in th' house. Th' foolish woman. They'se always burglars
in th' house. That's what burglars are f'r, an' houses. Instead
iv argyin' th' pint in a loud voice, coughin' an' givin' th' burglar
a chance to lave with dignity, this man got up an' was kilt. Now
th' pa-apers with th' assistance iv th' officers iv th' law has
discovered that th' lady took a boat ride with a gintleman frind
in th' summer iv sixty-two, that she wanst quarreled with her
husband about th' price iv a hat, that wan iv her lower teeth is
plugged, that she wears a switch an' that she weeps whin she sees
her childher. They'se a moral in this. It's ayether don't wake
a man up out iv a sound sleep, or don't get out iv bed till ye
have to, or don't bother a burglar whin ye see he's busy, or kill
th' iditor. I don't know which it is.
"Willum Jennings Bryan is readin' me frind Grover Cleveland out
iv th' party. He's usin' the Commoner to read him out. That's a
sure way.
"Mary MeLane has been in town. I didn't see her, me place not
bein' a raysort f'r th' young an' yearnin', an' especially me
duckin' all lithry ladies iv whativer sex. Mary McLane is th'
author iv a book called: 'Whin I am older I'll know betther.' Ye
ought to read it, Hinnissy.
"Th' Newport season is opened with gr-reat gayety an' th' aim
iv rayturnin' husbands is much more sure.
"Gin'ral Bragg fr'm up in Wisconsin has been gettin' into throuble
with our haughty allies, th' Cubians, he writin' home to his wife
that ye might as well thry to make a whistle out iv a pig's tail
as a dacint man out iv a Cubian. Gin'ral Bragg will be bounced
an' he ought to be. He don't belong in pollytics. His place is
iditor iv a losin' newspaper.
"Gov'nor Taft has been in Rome showin' th' wurruld how succissful,
sthraightforward, downright, outspoken, manly, frank, fourteen
ounces to th' pound American business dalings can be again' th'
worn-out di-plomacy iv th' papal coort. Whin last heerd fr'm
this astoot an' able man, backed up be th' advice iv Elihoo Root
iv York state, was makin' his way tow'rd Manila on foot, an' siv'ral
mimbers iv th' colledge iv cardinals was heerd to regret that
American statesmen were so thin they cudden't find anything to
fit thim in his thrunk.
"Cholera is ragin' in th' Ph'lippeens vice Gin'ral Jake Smith,
raymoved.
"Th' stock market is boomin' an' business has become so dull
elsewhere that some iv th' best known outside operators ar-re
obliged to increase th' depth iv th' goold coatin' on th' brick
to nearly an inch.
"Th' capital iv th' nation has raymoved to Eyesther Bay, a city
on th' north shore iv Long Island, with a popylation iv three
millyion clams, an' a number iv mosquitos with pianola attachments
an' steel rams. There day be day th' head iv th' nation thransacts
th' nation's business as follows: four A.M., a plunge into th'
salt, salt sea an' a swim iv twenty miles; five A.M., horse-back
ride, th' prisidint insthructin' his two sons, aged two and four
rayspictively, to jump th' first Methodist church without knockin'
off th' shingles; six A.M., wrestles with a thrained grizzly bear;
sivin A.M., breakfast; eight A.M., Indyan clubs; nine A.M., boxes
with Sharkey; tin A.M., bates th' tinnis champeen; iliven A.M.,
rayceives a band iv rough riders an' person'lly supervises th'
sindin' iv th' ambylance to look afther th' injured in th' village;
noon, dinner with Sharkey, Oscar Featherstone, th' champeen
roller-skater iv Harvard, '98, Pro-fissor McGlue, th' archyologist,
Lord Dum de Dum, Mike Kehoe, Immanuel Kant Gumbo, th' naygro pote,
Horrible Hank, t' bad lands scout, Sinitor Lodge, Lucy Emerson
Tick, th' writer on female sufferage, Mud-in-the-Eye, th' chief
iv th' Ogallas, Gin'ral Powell Clayton, th' Mexican mine expert,
four rough riders with their spurs on, th' Ambassadure iv France
an' th' Cinquovasti fam'ly, jugglers. Th' conversation, we larn
fr'm wan iv th' guests who's our spoortin' iditor, was jined in
be th' prisidint an' dealt with art, boxin', lithrachoor,
horse-breakin', science, shootin', pollytics, how to kill a mountain
line, di-plomacy, lobbing, pothry, th' pivot blow, rayform, an'
th' campaign in Cubia. Whin our rayporther was dhriven off th'
premises be wan iv th' rough riders, th' head iv th' nation was
tachin' Lord Dum de Dum an' Sicrety Hay how to do a hand-spring,
an' th' other guests was scattered about th' lawn, boxin', rasslin',
swingin' on th' thrapeze, ridin' th' buckin' bronco an' shootin'
at th' naygro pote f'r th' dhrinks--in short enjyin' an ideel day
in th' counthry.
"An' that's all th' news," said Mr. Dooley. "There ye ar-re jus'
as if ye cud read. That's all that's happened. Ain't I a good
newspaper? Not a dull line in me. Sind in ye'er small ads."
"Sure, all that's no news," said Mr. Hennessy, discontentedly.
"Hasn't there annything happened? Hasn't anny wan been--been
kilt?"
"There ye ar-re," said Mr. Dooley. "Be news ye mane misfortune.
I suppose near ivry wan does. What's wan man's news is another
man's throubles. In these hot days, I'd like to see a pa-aper
with nawthin' in it but affectionate wives an' loyal husbands an'
prosp'rous, smilin' people an' money in th' bank an' three a day.
That's what I'm lookin' f'r in th' hot weather."
"Th' newspapers have got to print what happens," said Mr. Hennessy.
"No," said Mr. Dooley, "they've got to print what's diff'rent.
Whiniver they begin to put headlines on happiness, contint, varchoo,
an' charity, I'll know things is goin' as wrong with this counthry
as I think they ar-re ivry naytional campaign."
The End of the War
"Why did th' Boers quit fightin'?" asked Mr. Hennessy.
"Th' supply iv British gin'rals give out," said Mr. Dooley. "They
were fin'lly crushed be th' surrindher iv Gin'ral Lord Mechoon.
"Up to that time th' British had niver gained anny important
advantage. They'd surrindhered ninety or a hundherd thousan'
private sojery, thirty or forty colonels, near all th' officers
iv th' guards, th' Northumberland Fusileers over an' over again,
an' Winston Churchill; they'd hurled gr-reat masses iv th' Impeeryal
Yeomanry into th' prison camps iv th' Boers; they'd surrindhered
rifles, an' ammunition an' pompons an' mules, but nary a British
gin'ral among thim. Although a smaller foorce, Hinnissy, th' Boers
had th' advantage iv knowin' ivry foot iv th' ground they were
fightin' on. Manny iv thim had just gone there, while th' British
had been on th' ground f'r three years with an opporchunity to
f'rget something ivry hour. Th' crafty Dutch, marchin' almost as
well be bright moonlight as in th' day time, proceedin' without
rest f'r hours at a time, always placin' th' catridge in th' gun
befure firm', hardy, vigorous an' accustomed to th' veldt, had
eluded all attempts to hand thim th' roast beef iv Merry England
in th' shape iv a gin'ral.
"But whin Gin'ral, me Lord Kitchener, th' Great Coon Conqueror,
wint to South Africa, like th' stern an' remorseless warryor that
he is, he detarmined to niver rest till he had desthroyed th'
inimy. In less thin two years, he had evolved his sthrategy. I
will tell ye what it was, because ye're inthrested in military
plans. He spread his magnificent army iv gallant Britons out in
a long line that sthretched clane acrost th' counthry, wan yeoman
deep. Thin, accompanied be his sub-gin'rals, he moved out in th'
followin' ordher. I'll dhraw it f'r ye, as I see it in th' pa-aper.
Here ye ar-re:
"The band,
"Gin'ral Lord Kitchener, K.C.B., K.N., K.L.K., G.K.R. (with medals),
"The other gin'rals,
"Pianos, Pianolas, Cottage Organs, Ping Pong Sets, Tennis Bats,
Bridge Scores, Cricket Stumps, War Corryspondints,
"Th' Avingin' Line,
"Their horses,
"Their ammunition,
"Their Food, and
"Their Rifles.
"As th' dhread formation moved off in th' bright sunlight iv that
fair day in March, with th' band playin' a quick shtep an' th'
colors flyin' in th' air, it was a sight to make ivry Englishman
proud iv th' fact that he had to be an Englishman. Detarmination
was written in ivry face--th' detarmination to go on at anny risk
till tea time. No flinchin', no hisitation, ivry man with his
head erect an' th' feelin' in his heart that on him rested th'
security iv th' impire if so. On, an' iver on they marched, fr'm
Spimfontein, past th' gleamin' spires iv Wa-aberneck, till they
saw in th' distance th' long, low line iv purple light that marked
th' walls iv Boobenastofein. It was thin four o'clock P.M., an'
th' column halted while th' bugles blew th' cheery call to tea.
Eager hands unshipped th' marmalade an' opened th' caddies, bread
was toasted on th' small stoves carrid be ivry officer's valet,
th' pickets an' scouts were dispatched f'r plum cake an' f'rgettin'
f'r a moment th' thriles iv th' campaign, th' rough warryors
indulged in that repast that has done so much to make Englishmen
what they are. At siven, havin' taken all precautions, havin'
placed th' powdher in a cool runnin' brook an' tethered th' mules
to th' rifles, th' vast army slept. It was breakfast time whin
th' God iv Slumber was dhriven off be th' other British God iv
Appetite. Such, Hinnissy, is th' brief story iv Gin'ral Kitchener's
cillybrated dhrive, as I read it in th' pa-apers.
"To some extint it was succissful an' to some other extints not.
Th' bands were good. Th' tea was fine, though some prefer Oolong.
Rifles, pompons, mules, fusileers, etcethry had been lost. But
not wan British gin'ral had been captured. Not wan. They were
all at breakfast an' th' great heart iv th' British nation was
sad. Th' great heart begun to grumble, which is a way th' great
heart iv a nation has. It ast what was th' use iv this costly
manoover--if they was as manny gin'rals left afther it as befure.
While in this mood, it was ilicthryfied be a piece iv startlin'
intilligince. Th' whisper ran round, grew to be a murmur, increased
to a roar, mounted to a shriek that Mechoon was captured.
"It seemed too good to be thrue. No wan cud believe it at first.
But fin'lly it was officially announced in Parlymint be that hot
headed ol' pathrite, Lord Salsberry himsilf. In a voice choked
be emotion he arose an' give three cheers. Afther which he read
Gin'ral Kitchener's dispatch: 'I have th' pleasure to rayport that
yisterdah at nine o'clock Lord Mechoon be a superb sthrategy had
himsilf surrounded be an infeeryor foorce iv Boers undher Gin'ral
Delaney or some such name. Our cust'mary precaution iv dhrawin'
in th' pickets afther nightfall an' buryin' our rifles, which had
repeatedly failed in th' past owin' to th' caution iv th' Boers,
wurruked admirably. Gin'ral Delaney was completely taken be
surprise an' befure he cud recover, Lord Mechoon had thrown himsilf
around his neck an' given him his cigreet case in token iv submission.
Th' command behaved with gr-reat gallantry. In wan case, a
whole comp'ny surrindhered to wan Boer. I am sindin' ricommindations
f'r th' Victorya cross be freight. Unforchunitly our casulties
were very heavy. Mesilf an' nearly all th' other gin'rals escaped
capture. But betther luck nex' time. Gin'ral Dewet is about a
mile fr'm here, if in Africa at all, or indeed, livin'. Gin'ral
Botha is said to be in Ioway, though ye can't believe ivrything
ye see in th' pa-apers. Wan or th' other may be enthrapped into
kidnapin' me. In th' manetime I am plannin' right along. I sleep
constantly in clothes becomin' me station, an' th' impire may rely
on me not makin' a show iv mesilf whin I am took. Ye'ers hopefully,
Kitchener.'
"Th' Boers niver raycovered fr'm th' tur'ble blow. Their spirits
was crushed. Their hopes had fled. Th' kindergartens had opened
an' manny iv their bravest warryors had been carried off be their
mothers. Anny moment they might be surrounded an' surrindhered
to. So wan mornin' th' entire mighty army, th' whole thirty-two
iv them, histed th' white flag an' presinted their bill."
"An' so th' war is over?" asked Mr. Hennessy.
"On'y part iv it," said Mr. Dooley. "Th' part that ye see in th'
pitcher pa-apers is over, but th' tax collector will continyoo
his part iv th' war with relentless fury. Cav'lry charges are not
th' on'y wars in a rale war."
Newport
"About this time ivry year," said Mr. Dooley, "I go to Newport f'r
th' summer."
"Ye go where?" asked Mr. Hennessy.
"I go to Newport," said Mr. Dooley, calmly, "in th' pa-apers.
Newport's always there. I may not find annything about th' fire
at th' yards or th' war in th' Ph'lippeens, but if Mrs. Rasther
opens a can iv salmon or pounds th' top off an egg, it's down in
black an' white be th' fearless hands iv th' iditor. 'Tis a
gr-reat joy bein' lithry an' knowin' how to read. Th' air is
hot in Ar-rchey Road; ye can see it. It looks an' feels like
hot soup with people floatin' around in it like viggytables. Th'
smoke poors fr'm th' chimbly iv th' rollin' mills an' comes right
down on th' sthreet an' jines us. People ar-re lyin' out iv
doors with their mouths open. They'se a gr-reat dale iv cholery
infantum an' a few deleeryam thremens. If I cudden't read I'd be
hot about th' weather an' things. But whin th' day is darkest an'
I don't want to see me best cukkin' frind, I takes me yacht at th'
top iv page eight an' goes sailin' off to Newport in me shirt
sleeves with twelve inches iv malt in th' hook iv me thumb, an'
there I stay till I want to come back an' rest.
"'Th' autymobill season has opened in deadly earnest. Manny new
machines is seen daily an' wan iv th' delights iv th' summer colony
is to go out iv an avenin' an' see th' farmers iv th' neighborhood
pluckin' their horses fr'm th' top branches iv threes. Th' younger
Hankerbilt has atthracted much attintion be his acc'rate ridin'.
Th' other day he made a scoor iv eight fr'm a runnin' start in
tin minyits an' this in spite iv th' fact that he was obliged to
come back to th' last wan, a Swede named Olson, an' bump him over
again.
"'Misther Graball, th' Muskegon millionaire who got into s'ciety
las' year be dyin' his hair green an' givin' a dinner at which all
th' guests rayceived a lumber mill as sooveneers, has returned
suddenly fr'm th' West an' his house party is over.'
"'Little Aigrette Vandycooker has a tooth, her elder sister a
markess, an' her mother a siparation.'
"'Misther an' Mrs. Roger Smitherson an' frind ar-re spindin' th'
summer at frind's house.'
"Gin'rally we lade a life iv quite an' iligant luxury. Wud ye
like a line on me daily routine? Well, in th' mornin' a little
spin in me fifty-horse power 'Suffer-little-childher,' in th'
afthernoon a whirl over th' green wathers iv th' bay in me
goold-an'-ivory yacht, in th' avenin' dinner with a monkey or
something akelly as good, at night a few leads out iv th' wrong
hand, some hasty wurruds an' so to bed. Such is th' spoortin'
life in Rhode Island, th' home iv Roger Williams an' others not
so much. It grows tiresome afther awhile. I confess to ye,
Algernon Hinnissy, that befure th' monkey was inthrajooced, I was
sufferin' fr'm what Hogan calls onwee, which is th' same thing as
ingrowin' money. I had got tired iv puttin' new storeys on me
cottage an' ridin' up in th' ilivator fr'm th' settin' room on
th' eighth flure to th' dinin' room on th' twinty-ninth, I didn't
care about ayether thrap-shootin' or autymobillin', I felt like
givin' a cawrnation dinner to th' poor iv th' village an' feedin'
thim me polo ponies, I didn't care whether th' champagne bar'ls
was kept iced, whether th' yacht was as long as th' wan ownded be
th' Ginger Snap king nex' dure, whether I had three or tin millyon
dollars in me pants pocket in th' mornin' or whether th' Poles in
th' coal mine was sthrikin' f'r wan dollar an' forty-siven or wan
dollar an' forty-eight cints a day. I was tired iv ivrything.
Life had me be th' throat, th' black dog was on me back. I felt
like suicide or wurruk. Thin come th' bright idee iv me young
frind an' th' monkey saved me. He give me something to live f'r.
Perhaps we too may be monkeys some day an' be amusin'. We don't
talk half as loud or look half as foolish or get dhrunk half as
quick, but give us a chanst. We're a young people an' th' monkeys
is an old, old race. They've been Newportin' f'r cinchries. Sure
that ol' la-ad who said man was descinded fr'm monkeys knew what
he was talkin' about. Descinded, but how far?
"Now, don't go gettin' cross about th' rich, Hinnissy. Put up
that dinnymite. Don't excite ye'ersilf about us folks in Newport.
It's always been th' same way, Father Kelly tells me. Says he:
'If a man is wise, he gets rich an' if he gets rich, he gets
foolish, or his wife does. That's what keeps th' money movin'
around. What comes in at th' ticker goes out at th' wine agent.
F'river an' iver people have been growin' rich, goin' down to some
kind iv a Newport, makin' monkeys iv thimsilves an' goin' back to
th' jungle. 'Tis a steady pro-cission. Aisy come, lazy go. In
ivry little hamlet in this broad land, there's some man with a
broad jaw an' th' encouragement iv a good woman, makin' ready to
shove some other man off his steam yacht. At this very minyit
whin I speak, me frind Jawn Grates has his eye on Hankerbilk's
house. He wud swing a hammock in th' woodshed this year, but nex'
he may have his feet up on th' bannister iv th' front stoop. Whin
a captain iv industhry stops dhrinkin' at th' bar, he's near his
finish. If he ain't caught in his own person, th' constable will
get to his fam'ly. Ye read about th' union iv two gr-reat
fortunes. A dollar meets another dollar, they are conganial, have
sim'lar tastes, an' manny mutual frinds. They are marrid an' bring
up a fam'ly iv pennies, dimes, thirty-cintses an' countherfeits.
An' afther awhile, th' fam'ly passes out iv circylation. That's
th' histhry iv it,' says Father Kelly. 'An',' says he,' I'm glad
there is a Newport,' he says. 'It's th' exhaust pipe,' he says.
'Without it we might blow up,' he says. 'It's th' hole in th' top
iv th' kettle,' he says. 'I wish it was bigger,' he says."
"Oh, well," said Mr. Hennessy, "we are as th' Lord made us."
"No," said Mr. Dooley, "lave us be fair. Lave us take some iv th'
blame oursilves."
Arctic Exploration
"This here business iv Artic exploration's th' gran' pursoot,"
said Mr. Dooley. "A gran', comfortable, fightin', quarrelin'
business."
"What's it all about?" asked Mr. Hennessy. "Why shud annywan want
to go to th' North Pole? Ain't it cold enough here?"
"I niver cud quite make it out," said Mr. Dooley. "I've heerd
tell that years ago, befure th' fire or th' war, some wan had an
idee in his foolish head that they was a gran' sea up there with
blue wather dimplin' in th' moonlight an' cocynut threes growin'
on th' shore an' if a man cud on'y get in with his boat, he cud
sail around th' wurruld an' fetch up in Chiny. That idee blew up
an' thin some wan said 'twud be a fine thing f'r science if a white
man cud get to th' North Pole. What he'd do if he got there no
wan has anny thought. Accordin' to what I hear, th' North Pole
ain't like a tillygraft pole, a barber pole, a fishin' pole, a
clothes pole, a poll-tax, a Maypole, a Russhyan Pole, or annything
that ye can see, smell or ate. Whin ye get to it, it is no diff'rent
fr'm bein' annywhere on th' ice. Th' on'y way ye know ye're there
is be consultin' a pocket arithmetic, a watch an' a compass. Don't
get it into ye'er head that if me frind Baldwin or Peary iver wint
north iv Milwaukee an' come acrost th' North Pole they'd carve
their names on it or hist a flag over it or bring it home with
thim on a thruck an' set it up on th' lake front. Th' north pole
is a gigantic column iv cold air, some says hot, an' an enthusyastic
explorer that wasn't lookin' where he wint might pass right through
it without knowin'.
"In th' arly days whin an explorer wint off to find th' Pole, he
bought himsilf a sheepskin coat, a couple iv dogs, a pair iv skates,
an' a bottle iv pickled onions an' set out bravely, an' th' people
watched th' fam'ly to see what other form th' lunacy wud take.
Afther awhile he ayether come back or he didn't. Sometimes th'
Esqueemo lady didn't care to lave her pleasant home in th' land
iv perpetchool blubber an' in that case th' hardy mariner remained
in th' frozen north. I niver cud see th' advantages iv life in
th' Artic regions. 'Tis thrue th' nights is six months long an'
sleep is wan iv th' spoorts that age hasn't deprived me iv. It
mus' be a gr-reat counthry f'r burglars. But f'r a plain wurrukin'
man it's very thryin'. Think iv a six months' wurrukin' day. Ye
get ye'er breakfast at sun-up in March an' ye don't set down to
dinner till th' first iv June. Thin comes a long afthernoon an'
I tell ye whin th' whistle blows at six o'clock October, it's a
welcome sound it sinds to ye'er ears. Ye go home an' all th'
childher has growed up an' th' news in th' mornin' pa-per is six
months' old. Ye lie around readin' an' playin' cards f'r a month
or two an' thin ye yawn an' set th' alarm clock f'r March an' says:
'Mah, it's th' fifteenth iv Novimber an' time th' childher was
abed,' an' go to sleep. About Christmas th' good woman wakes ye
up to look f'r th' burglar an' afther ye've paddled around in th'
ice floe f'r a week, ye climb back into bed grumblin' an' go to
sleep again. Afther awhile ye snore an' th' wife iv ye'er bosom
punches ye. 'What time is it?' says ye. 'It's a quarther past
th' fifteenth iv Janooary,' says she, 'an' that siren iv ye'ers
has been goin' since New Year's day.' At March ye ar-re aroused
be th' alarm clock an' ye go out to feed th' seals an' I tell ye,
ye need a shave. It mus' be a quare sinsation to wake up in th'
mornin' an' find that th' kid ye tucked into bed th' night befure
has grown side-whiskers in his sleep an' his feet has pushed out
th' foot iv th' cradle. Not f'r my money, Hinnissy. Th' Artic
regions f'r thim that likes thim but give me a land where ye don't
tell th' time iv day be th' almynac.
"But other people is diff'rent. Th' boldest Artic explorer is a
man that's made his money out iv sellin' base-burnin' stoves an'
has chillblains in July. Such a man is niver continted till he's
started somebody off f'r th' northest north. An' he has no throuble
to find a man. Nex' to bein' invited on a private yacht to sail
in th' Middyteranyan, th' nicest thing a millyonaire can do f'r
ye is to make an Artic explorer iv ye. Th' prelim'naries is great
spoort. F'r two years ye go round th' counthry letchrin' on 'What
I will see in th' Artic regions whin I get there if at all.' Fin'lly
ye set off with th' fleet, consistin' iv a ship f'r ye'ersilf,
three f'r th' provisions, two f'r th' clothes an' wan f'r th'
diaries. They'se also a convoy. Th' business iv th' convoy is
to dhrop in at Thromsoe in Norway an' ast f'r news iv ye. Thromsoe
is wan iv th' farthest north places that anny explorer has been.
But it well repays a visit, bein' a thrivin', bustlin' Swede city
with a good club. Afther th' long sthruggle with th' pitiliss ice
machine it is very pleasant to dhrop in on this hospital community
an' come back that night be thrain. Well, as I was sayin', wan
explorer starts off in a fur suit an' has th' time iv his life an'
th' other explorer stays at home an' suffers th' crool hardships
an' bitther disapp'intments iv life in Brooklyn. Lashed to his
rockin' chair, he shivers ivry time th' wind blows an' he thinks
iv his hardy partner facin' th' purls iv that far-off region iv
ice an' snow an' funny little Esqueemo women in union garments iv
fur. 'He's in Greenland now; he's battlin' with th' deadly ice
floe; now he's rasslin' with a Polar bear; he's up; he's away;
he's reached th' Pole; he's pullin' it up be th' roots; bravo
Baldy!' An' so he goes till his hands is all chapped fr'm thinkin'
iv th' cold an' his leg is lame fr'm th' encounther with a Polar
bear an' his rockin' chair is in danger iv bein' dashed to pieces
again' th' threacherous pianny. An' wan day a message comes fr'm
th' other explorer: 'Rio Janeiro. We have rayturned, baffled but
not defeated. Th' pickled walnuts give out befure we reached th'
West Indies. As far as we've gone we've had excellent raysults.
Th' cap'n, th' mate, th' cook, th' stewart an' eighty per cint iv
th' crew is in ir'ns an' as soon as I've got this tillygram off
I'm goin' in to punch th' surgeon. I congratylate ye. Ye'er name
will stand high among th' binnyfactors iv science. We have
demonsthrated beyond fear iv conthrydiction that th' gulf sthream
is jus' where it was an' that volcanoes ain't what they are cracked
up to be. Our motto is: "Niver give up th' ship. It's too
comfortable." Who's ye'er banker here?' Whin th' millyionaire dies
iv exposure, a victim to science, th' mariner rayturns an' letchers
on th' subject: 'Quarrels I have had in th' frozen north.' Talk
about th' terrors, iv Artic exploration, Hinnissy! There's where
ye get thim. Did ye iver go to an Artic exploration letcher? I
did wanst. They was wan down at th' brothers' school las' winther.
I've been lame iver since.
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