Mr. Dooley in Peace and in War Page 4

  "An' I'm glad iv it. This war, Hinnissy, has been a gr-reat sthrain onme. To think iv th' suffrin' I've endured! F'r weeks I lay awake atnights fearin' that th' Spanish ar-rmadillo'd lave the Cape VerdeIslands, where it wasn't, an' take th' thrain out here, an' hur-rl deathan' desthruction into me little store. Day be day th' pitiless exthriescome out an' beat down on me. Ye hear iv Teddy Rosenfelt plungin' intoambus-cades an' Sicrity iv Wars; but d'ye hear iv Martin Dooley, th' manbehind th' guns, four thousan' miles behind thim, an' willin' to befurther? They ar-re no bokays f'r me. I'm what Hogan calls wan iv th'mute, ingloryous heroes iv th' war; an' not so dam mute, ayther. Someday, Hinnissy, justice'll be done me, an' th' likes iv me; an', whin th'story iv a gr-reat battle is written, they'll print th' kilt, th'wounded, th' missin', an' th' seryously disturbed. An' thim that havebore thimsilves well an' bravely an' paid th' taxes an' faced th' deadlynewspa-apers without flinchin' 'll be advanced six pints an' given achanst to tur-rn jack f'r th' game.

  "But me wurruk ain't over jus' because Mack has inded th' war an' TeddyRosenfelt is comin' home to bite th' Sicrety iv War. You an' me,Hinnissy, has got to bring on this here Anglo-Saxon 'lieance. AnAnglo-Saxon, Hinnissy, is a German that's forgot who was his parents.They're a lot iv thim in this counthry. There must be as manny as two inBoston: they'se wan up in Maine, an' another lives at Bogg's Ferry inNew York State, an' dhrives a milk wagon. Mack is an Anglo-Saxon. Hisfolks come fr'm th' County Armagh, an' their naytional Anglo-Saxon hymnis 'O'Donnell Aboo.' Teddy Rosenfelt is another Anglo-Saxon. An' I'm anAnglo-Saxon. I'm wan iv th' hottest Anglo-Saxons that iver come out ivAnglo-Saxony. Th' name iv Dooley has been th' proudest Anglo-Saxon namein th' County Roscommon f'r many years.

  "Schwartzmeister is an Anglo-Saxon, but he doesn't know it, an' won'ttill some wan tells him. Pether Bowbeen down be th' Frinch church isformin' th' Circle Francaize Anglo-Saxon club, an' me ol' frind Dominigothat used to boss th' Ar-rchey R-road wagon whin Callaghan had th'sthreet conthract will march at th' head iv th' Dago Anglo-Saxons whinth' time comes. There ar-re twinty thousan' Rooshian Jews at a quarthera vote in th' Sivinth Ward; an', ar-rmed with rag hooks, they'd be atur-rble thing f'r anny inimy iv th' Anglo-Saxon 'lieance to face. Th'Bohemians an' Pole Anglo-Saxons may be a little slow in wakin' up towhat th' pa-apers calls our common hurtage, but ye may be sure they'llbe all r-right whin they're called on. We've got together anAnglo-Saxon 'lieance in this wa-ard, an' we're goin' to ilict SarsfieldO'Brien prisidint, Hugh O'Neill Darsey vice-prisidint, Robert ImmittClancy sicrety, an' Wolfe Tone Malone three-asurer. O'Brien'll be a goodwan to have. He was in the Fenian r-raid, an' his father carrid a pikein forty-eight. An' he's in th' Clan. Besides, he has a sthrong pullwith th' Ancient Ordher iv Anglo-Saxon Hibernyans.

  "I tell ye, whin th' Clan an' th' Sons iv Sweden an' th' Banana Club an'th' Circle Francaize an' th' Pollacky Benivolent Society an' th'Rooshian Sons of Dinnymite an' th' Benny Brith an' th' Coffee Clutchthat Schwartzmeister r-runs an' th' Tur-rnd'ye-mind an' th' Hollandsociety an' th' Afro-Americans an' th' other Anglo-Saxons begin f'r toraise their Anglo-Saxon battle-cry, it'll be all day with th' eight ornine people in th' wurruld that has th' misfortune iv not bein' broughtup Anglo-Saxons."

  "They'se goin' to be a debate on th' 'lieance at th' ninety-eight picnicat Ogden's gr-rove," said Mr. Hennessy.

  "P'r'aps," said Mr. Dooley, sweetly, "ye might like to borry th' loan ivan ice-pick."

  ON A LETTER FROM THE FRONT.

  Mr. Dooley looked important, but affected indifference, as he mopped thebar. Mr. Hennessy, who had learned to study his friend in order toescape disagreeable complications, patiently waited for the philosopherto speak. Mr. Dooley rubbed the bar to the end, tossed the cloth into amysterious recess with a practised movement, moved a glass or two on theshelf, cleaned his spectacles, and drew a letter from his pocket.

  "Hm-m!" he said: "I have news fr'm th' fr-ront. Me nevvew, TerryDonahue, has sint me a letther tellin' me all about it."

  "How shud he know?" Mr. Hennessy asked.

  "How shud he know, is it?" Mr. Dooley demanded warmly. "How shudden't heknow? Isn't he a sojer in th' ar-rmy? Isn't it him that's down there inSandago fightin' f'r th' honor iv th' flag, while th' likes iv you isup here livin' like a prince, an' doin' nawthin' all th' livelong daybut shovel at th' rollin'-mills? Who are ye f'r to criticize th'dayfinders iv our counthry who ar-re lyin' in th' trinches, an' havin'th' clothes stole off their backs be th' pathriotic Cubians, I'd like toknow? F'r two pins, Hinnissy, you an' I'd quarrel."

  "I didn't mean nawthin'," Mr. Hennessy apologized. "I didn't know he wasdown there."

  "Nayether did I," said Mr. Dooley. "But I informed mesilf. I'll have nowan in this place speak again th' ar-rmy. Ye can have ye'er say aboutMack. He has a good job, an' 'tis r-right an' proper f'r to baste himfr'm time to time. It shows ye'er in good thrim, an' it don't hur-rthim. They'se no wan to stop his pay. He goes up to th' cashier an'dhraws his forty-wan-sixty-six jus' th' same whether he's sick or well,an' whether he's pulled th' box reg-lar or has been playin' forty-fivesin th' back room. But whin ye come to castin' aspersions on th' ar'rmy,be hivens, ye'll find that I can put me thumb on this showcase an' goover at wan lep."

  "I didn't say annything," said Mr. Hennessy. "I didn't know aboutTerry."

  "Iv coorse, ye didn't," said Mr. Dooley. "An' that's what I'm sayin'.Ye're here wallowin' in luxury, wheelin' pig ir'n fr'm morn till night;an' ye have no thought iv what's goin' on beyant. You an' Jawn D.Rockefeller an' Phil Ar-rmour an' Jay Pierpont Morgan an' th' r-rest ivye is settin' back at home figurin' how ye can make some wan else payye'er taxes f'r ye. What is it to ye that me nevvew Terry is sleepin' inditch wather an' atin' hard tacks an' coffee an' bein' r-robbed beleeber Cubians, an' catchin' yallow fever without a chanst iv givin' itto e'er a Spanyard. Ye think more iv a stamp thin ye do iv ye'ercounthry. Ye're like th' Sugar Thrust. F'r two cints ye'd refuse tosupport th' govermint. I know ye, ye bloated monno-polist."

  "I'm no such thing," said Mr. Hennessy, hotly. "I've been a Dimmycratf'r thirty year."

  "Well, annyhow," said Mr. Dooley, "don't speak disrayspictful iv th'ar-rmy. Lave me r-read you Terry's letter fr'm th' fr-ront. 'M--m: Inth' trinches, two miles fr'm Sandago, with a land crab as big as alobster crawlin' up me back be way iv Kingston, June 6, Dear UncleMartin.' That's th' way it begins. 'Dear Uncle Martin: We are all wellhere, except thim that is not, an' hope ye're injyin' th' same gr-reatblessin'. It's hotter down here thin Billy-be-dam'd. They'se arollin'-mill near here jus' th' same as at home, but all th' hands islaid off on account iv bad times. They used ol'-fashioned woodenwheelbahrs an' fired with wood. I don't think they cud handle th' pigth' way we done, bein' small la-ads. Th' coke has to be hauled up insacks be th' gang. Th' derrick hands got six a week, but hadn't annyunion. Helpers got four twinty. Puddlers was well paid. I wint throughth' plant befure we come up here, an' r-run a wagon up th' plank jus'to keep me hand in. Tell me frinds that wan gang iv good la-ads fr'm th'r-road cud wurruk anny three iv th' gangs down here. Th' mills is ownedbe Rockefellar, so no more at prisint fr'm yer affecshunate nevvew,Peter Casey, who's writin' this f'r me.'"

  "'Tis a good letter," said Mr. Hennessy. "I don't see how they cud getderrick hands f'r six a week."

  "Me frind Jawn D. knows how," said Mr. Dooley.

  ON OUR CUBAN ALLIES.

  "Well, sir," said Mr. Dooley, "dam thim Cubians! If I was Gin'ralShafter, I'd back up th' wagon in front iv th' dure, an' I'd say toGin'ral Garshy, I'd say, 'I want you'; an' I'd have thim all down at th'station an' dacently booked be th' desk sergeant befure th' fall ivnight. Th' impydince iv thim!"

  "What have they been doin'?" Mr. Hennessy asked.

  "Failin' to undherstand our civilization," said Mr. Dooley. "Ye see, itwas this way. This is th' way it was: Gin'ral Garshy with wan hundherdthousan' men's been fightin' bravely f'r two years f'r to liberyateCubia. F'r two years he's been marchin' his sivinty-five thousan' men upan' down th' island, desthroyin' th' haughty Spanyard be t
h' millyons.Whin war was declared, he offered his own sarvice an' th' sarvices ivhis ar-rmy iv fifty thousan' men to th' United States; an', whilewaitin' f'r ships to arrive, he marched at th' head iv his tin thousan'men down to Sandago de Cuba an' captured a cigar facthry, which theysoon rayjooced to smokin' ruins. They was holdin' this position--Gin'ralGarshy an' his gallant wan thousan' men--whin Gin'ral Shafter arrived.Gin'ral Garshy immedjitly offered th' sarvices iv himsilf an' his twohundherd men f'r th' capture iv Sandago; an', when Gin'ral Shafterarrived, there was Gin'ral Garshy with his gallant band iv fiftyCubians, r-ready to eat at a minyit's notice.

  "Gin'ral Shafter is a big, coorse, two-fisted man fr'm Mitchigan, an',whin he see Gin'ral Garshy an' his twinty-five gallant followers,'Fr-ront,' says he. 'This way,' he says, 'step lively,' he says, 'an'move some iv these things,' he says. 'Sir,' says Gin'ral Garshy, 'd'yetake me f'r a dhray?' he says. 'I'm a sojer,' he says, 'not a baggagecar,' he says. 'I'm a Cubian pathrite, an' I'd lay down me life an' thelives iv ivry wan iv th' eighteen brave men iv me devoted ar-rmy,' hesays; 'but I'll be dam'd if I carry a thrunk,' he says. 'I'll fightwhiniver 'tis cool,' he says, 'an' they ain't wan iv these twelve menhere that wudden't follow me to hell if they was awake at th' time,' hesays; 'but,' he says, 'if 'twas wurruk we were lookin' f'r, we cud havefound it long ago,' he says. 'They'se a lot iv it in this counthry thatnobody's usin',' he says. 'What we want,' he says, 'is freedom,' hesays; 'an', if ye think we have been in th' woods dodgin' th' savagecorryspondint f'r two year,' he says, 'f'r th' sake iv r-rushin' yerlaundhry home,' he says, ''tis no wondher,' he says, 'that th' r-roadsfr'm Marinette to Kalamazoo is paved with goold bricks bought be th'people iv ye'er native State,' he says.

  "So Shafter had to carry his own thrunk; an' well it was f'r him that itwasn't Gin'ral Miles', the weather bein' hot. An' Shafter was mad clearthrough; an', whin he took hold iv Sandago, an' was sendin' outinvitations, he scratched Garshy. Garshy took his gallant band iv sixback to th' woods; an' there th' three iv thim ar-re now, ar-rmed withforty r-rounds iv canned lobster, an' ready to raysist to th' death. Himan' th' other man has written to Gin'ral Shafter to tell him what theythink iv him, an' it don't take long."

  "Well," said Mr. Hennessy, "I think Shafter done wrong. He might'veasked Garshy in f'r to see th' show, seein' that he's been hangin'ar-round f'r a long time, doin' th' best he cud."

  "It isn't that," explained Mr. Dooley. "Th' throuble is th' Cubiansdon't undherstand our civilization. Over here freedom means hard wurruk.What is th' ambition iv all iv us, Hinnissy? 'Tis ayether to hold ourjob or to get wan. We want wurruk. We must have it. D'ye raymimber th'sign th' mob carrid in th' procession las' year? 'Give us wurruk, or weperish,' it said. They had their heads bate in be polismen because nophilan-thropist'd come along an' make thim shovel coal. Now, in Cubia,whin th' mobs turns out, they carry a banner with the wurruds, 'Give usnawthin' to do, or we perish.' Whin a Cubian comes home at night with ahappy smile on his face, he don't say to his wife an' childher, 'ThankGawd, I've got wurruk at last!' He says, 'Thank Gawd, I've been fired.'An' th' childher go out, and they say, 'Pah-pah has lost his job.' AndMrs. Cubian buys hersilf a new bonnet; and where wanst they was sorrowan' despair all is happiness an' a cottage organ.

  "Ye can't make people here undherstand that, an' ye can't make a Cubianundherstand that freedom means th' same thing as a pinitinchry sintince.Whin we thry to get him to wurruk, he'll say: 'Why shud I? I haven'tcommitted anny crime.' That's goin' to be th' throuble. Th' first thingwe know we'll have another war in Cubia whin we begin disthributin' goodjobs, twelve hours a day, wan sivinty-five. Th' Cubians ain't civilizedin our way. I sometimes think I've got a touch iv Cubian blood in me ownveins."

  ON THE DESTRUCTION OF CERVERA'S FLEET.

  [These comments were made by Mr. Dooley during a strike of the stereotypers, which caused the English newspapers of Chicago temporarily to suspend publication.]

  "I hear," said Mr. Hennessy, "that th' stereopticons on th' newspapershave sthruck."

  "I sh'd think they wud," said Mr. Dooley. "Th' las' time I was down townwas iliction night, whin Charter Haitch's big la-ad was ilicted, an'they was wurrukin' th' stereopticons till they was black in th' face.What's th' news?"

  "Th' What Cheer, Ioway, Lamp iv Freedom is on th' sthreets with atillygram that Shafter has captured Sandago de Cuba, an' is now settin'on Gin'ral Pando's chest with his hands in his hair. But this is deniedbe th' Palo Gazoot, the Macoupin County Raygisther, an' th' MeridyanSthreet Afro-American. I also see be th' Daily Scoor Card, th' WineList, th' Deef Mute's Spokesman, th' Morgue Life, the Bill iv Fare, th'Stock Yards Sthraight Steer, an' Jack's Tips on th' Races, the on'ydaily paper printed in Chicago, that Sampson's fleet is in th' SuezCanal bombarding Cades. Th' Northwestern Christyan Advycate says this isnot thrue, but that George Dixon was outpointed be an English boxer in atwinty-r-round go in New York."

  "Ye've got things mixed up," said Mr. Dooley. "I get th' news sthraight.'Twas this way. Th' Spanish fleet was bottled up in Sandago Harbor, an'they dhrew th' cork. That's a joke. I see it in th' pa-apers. Th'gallant boys iv th' navy was settin' out on th' deck, defindin' theircounthry an' dhrawin' three ca-ards apiece, whin th' Spanish admiralcon-cluded 'twud be better f'r him to be desthroyed on th' ragin' sea,him bein' a sailor, thin to have his fleet captured be cav'lry. Annyhow,he was willin' to take a chance; an' he says to his sailors:'Spanyards,' he says, 'Castiles,' he says, 'we have et th' las'bed-tick,' he says; 'an', if we stay here much longer,' he says, 'I'llhave to have a steak off th' armor plate fried f'r ye,' he says. 'Laveus go out where we can have a r-run f'r our money,' he says. An' awaythey wint. I'll say this much f'r him, he's a brave man, a dam braveman. I don't like a Spanyard no more than ye do, Hinnissy. I niver seewan. But, if this here man was a--was a Zulu, I'd say he was a braveman. If I was aboord wan iv thim yachts that was convarted, I'd go tothis here Cervera, an' I'd say: 'Manuel,' I'd say, 'ye're all right, meboy. Ye ought to go to a doctor an' have ye'er eyes re-set, but ye're agood fellow. Go downstairs,' I'd say, 'into th' basemint iv the ship,'I'd say, 'an' open th' cupboard jus' nex' to th' head iv th' bed, an'find th' bottle marked "Floridy Wather," an' threat ye'ersilf kindly.'That's what I'd say to Cervera. He's all right.

  "Well, whin our boys see th' Spanish fleet comin' out iv th' harbor,they gathered on th' deck an' sang th' naytional anthem, 'They'll be ahot time in th' ol' town to-night.' A liftnant come up to where AdmiralSampson was settin' playin' sivin up with Admiral Schley. 'Bill,' hesays, 'th' Spanish fleet is comin' out,' he says. 'What talk have ye?'says Sampson. 'Sind out some row-boats an' a yacht, an' desthroy thim.Clubs is thrumps,' he says, and he wint on playin'. Th' Spanish fleetwas attackted on all sides be our br-rave la-ads, nobly assisted be th'dispatch boats iv the newspapers. Wan by wan they was desthroyed. Threebattle-ships attackted th' convarted yacht Gloucester. Th' Gloucesterused to be owned be Pierpont Morgan; but 'twas convarted, an' is nowleadin' a dacint life. Th' Gloucester sunk thim all, th' ChristobellComma, the Viscera, an' th' Admiral O'Quinn. It thin wint up to twoSpanish torpedo boats an' giv thim wan punch, an' away they wint. Bethis time th' sojers had heerd of the victhry, an' they gathered on th'shore, singin' th' naytional anthem, 'They'll be a hot time in th' ol'town to-night, me babby.' Th' gloryous ol' chune, to which Washingtonan' Grant an' Lincoln marched, was took up be th' sailors on th' ships,an' Admiral Cervera r-run wan iv his boats ashore, an' jumped into th'sea. At last accounts th' followin' dispatches had been received: 'ToWillum McKinley: Congratulations on ye'er noble victhry. (Signed) WillumMcKinley.' 'To Russell A. Alger: Ye done splendid. (Signed) Russell A.Alger.' 'To James Wilson, Sicrety iv Agriculture: This is a gr-reat dayf'r Ioway. Ar-re ye much hur-rted? (Signed) James Wilson.'"

  "Where did ye hear all this?" asked Mr. Hennessy, in great amazement.

  "I r-read it," said Mr. Dooley, impressively, "in the Staats Zeitung."

  ON A LETTER TO MR. DEPEW.

  "I usen't to know," said Mr. Dooley, "what me frind Gin'ral Sherman
meant whin he said that thing about war. I've been through two iv thim,not to speak iv convintions an' prim'ries, an' divvle th' bit iv har-rmcome to me no more thin if I was settin' on a roof playin' an accorjeen.But I know now what th' ol' la-ad meant. He meant war was hell whin'twas over.

  "I ain't heerd anny noise fr'm th' fellows that wint into threnches an'plugged th' villyanious Spanyard. Most iv thim is too weak to kick. Butth' proud an' fearless pathrites who restrained thimsilves, an' didn'tgo to th' fr-ront, th' la-ads that sthruggled hard with their warliketindincies, an' fin'lly downed thim an' stayed at home an' practised upupon th' typewriter, they're ragin' an' tearin' an' desthroyin' theirfoes.

  "Did ye see what me frind Alger wrote to Chansy Depoo? Well, sir, Algerhas been misthreated. There's a good man. I say he's a good man. An' heis, too. At anny thrick fr'm shingles to two-be-fours he's as good asth' best. But no wan apprechated Alger. No wan undherstud him. No waneven thried to. Day be day he published th' private letters iv otherpeople, an' that didn't throw anny light on his charackter. Day be dayhe had his pitchers took, an' still th' people didn't get onto th'cur-rves iv him. Day be day he chatted iv th' turrors iv war, an' stillpeople on'y said: 'An' Alger also r-ran.' But th' time come whin Algercud contain himsilf no longer, an' he set down an' wrote to ChansyDepoo.

  "'Mr. Chansy Depot, care iv Grand Cintral Depew, New York, N.Y.,Esquire. Dear Chanse: I've been expectin' a letter fr'm ye f'r three orfour days. In reply to same will say: Oh, Chanse, ye don't know how Isuffer. I'm that low in me mind I feel like a bunch iv lathes. Oh, dear,to think iv what I've gone through. I wint into th' war onprepared. Ihad on'y so many r-rounds iv catridges an' a cross-cut saw, an' Ifailed to provide mesilf with th' ord'nary necessities iv life. But, inspite iv me deficiencies, I wint bravely ahead. Th' sthrain wassomething tur-r'ble on me. Me mind give out repeatedly. I cud not thinkat times, but I niver faltered. In two months I had enough suppliespiled up in Maine to feed ivry sojer in Cubia. They were thousands ivr-rounds iv catridges f'r ivry rig'mint, and all th' rig'mints had to dowas to write f'r thim. Th' navy had taken Manila an' Cervera's fleet,an' th' ar-rmy had taken Sandago an' th' yellow fever. Th' war is over,an' peace wanst more wags her wings over th' counthry. Pine scantlingsis quoted sthrong. Ivrywhere is peace an' contint. Me photographs are onsale at all first-class newsdealers. Yet there is no ca'm f'r me.Onthinkin' wans insult me. They tell me a sojer can't ate gin'ralordhers. They want me to raysign an' go back to me humble home inMitchigan. Disgustin' men that've done nawthin' but get thimsilvesshot, ask f'r milk an' quinine. They'll be askin' me to carry foodto thim nex'. Oh, Chanse, oh, hivens, ye can't know how grieved Iam! Rather wud I have perished in a logjam thin to've indured thisingratichood. But, in lookin' back over me past life, I can thinkiv no wrong I've done. If me mim'ry is at fault, please note. Mecar-eer is an open book. I've held nawthin' back fr'm th' public,not even whin 'twas mar-rked private. I can say with th' pote thatI done me jooty. But, oh, Chanse! don't iver aspire to my job. Besicrety of war, if ye will; but niver be sicrety iv A war. Do notoffer this letter to th' newspapers. Make thim take it. How'sthings goin' with ye, ol' pal? I hope to see ye at th' seaside.Till thin, I'm yours, sick at heart, but atin' reg'lar. RUSS.'"