Mr. Dooley's Philosophy Part 1

Mr. Dooley's Philosophy.

by Finley Peter Dunne.

PREFACE

The reporter of these monologues would apologize for the frequent reappearances of Mr. Dooley, if he felt the old gentleman would appreciate an apology in his behalf. But Mr. Dooley has none of the modesty that has been described as "an invention for protection against envy," because unlike that one of his distinguished predecessors who discovered this theory to excuse his own imperfect but boastful egotism, he recognizes no such human failing as envy. Most of the papers in the present collection of the sayings of this great and learned man have appeared in the press of America and England. This will account for the fact that they deal with subjects that have pressed hard upon the minds of newspaper readers, statesmen, and tax-payers during the year. To these utterances have been added a number of obiter dicta by the philosopher, which, perhaps, will be found to have the reminiscent flavor that appertains to the observations of all learned judges when they are off the bench.

In some cases the sketches have been remodeled and care has been taken to correct typographical blunders, except where they seemed to improve the text. In this connection the writer must offer his profound grat.i.tude to the industrious typographer, who often makes two jokes grow where only one grew before, and has added generously to the distress of amateur elocutionists.

F. P. D.

A BOOK REVIEW

"Well sir," said Mr. Dooley, "I jus' got hold iv a book, Hinnissy, that suits me up to th' handle, a gran' book, th' grandest iver seen. Ye know I'm not much throubled be lithrachoor, havin' manny worries iv me own, but I'm not prejudiced again' books. I am not. Whin a rale good book comes along I'm as quick as anny wan to say it isn't so bad, an' this here book is fine. I tell ye 'tis fine."

"What is it?" Mr. Hennessy asked languidly.

"'Tis 'Th' Biography iv a Hero be Wan who Knows.' 'Tis 'Th' Darin'

Exploits iv a Brave Man be an Actual Eye Witness.' 'Tis 'Th' Account iv th' Desthruction iv Spanish Power in th' Ant Hills,' as it fell fr'm th'

lips iv Tiddy Rosenfelt an' was took down be his own hands. Ye see 'twas this way, Hinnissy, as I r-read th' book. Whin Tiddy was blowed up in th' harbor iv Havana he instantly con-cluded they must be war. He debated th' question long an' earnestly an' fin'lly pa.s.sed a jint resolution declarin' war. So far so good. But there was no wan to carry it on. What shud he do? I will lave th' janial author tell th' story in his own wurruds.

"'Th' sicrety iv war had offered me,' he says, 'th' command of a rig'mint,' he says, 'but I cud not consint to remain in Tampa while perhaps less audacious heroes was at th' front,' he says. 'Besides,' he says, 'I felt I was incompetent f'r to command a rig'mint raised be another,' he says. 'I detarmined to raise wan iv me own,' he says. 'I selected fr'm me acquaintances in th' West,' he says, 'men that had thravelled with me acrost th' desert an' th' storm-wreathed mountain,'

he says, 'sharin' me burdens an' at times confrontin' perils almost as gr-reat as anny that beset me path,' he says. 'Together we had faced th'

turrors iv th' large but vilent West,' he says, 'an' these brave men had seen me with me trusty rifle shootin' down th' buffalo, th' elk, th'

moose, th' grizzly bear, th' mountain goat,' he says, 'th' silver man, an' other ferocious beasts iv thim parts,' he says. 'An' they niver flinched,' he says. 'In a few days I had thim perfectly tamed,' he says, 'an' ready to go annywhere I led,' he says. 'On th' thransport goi'n to Cubia,' he says, 'I wud stand beside wan iv these r-rough men threatin'

him as a akel, which he was in ivrything but birth, education, rank an'

courage, an' together we wud look up at th' admirable stars iv that tolerable southern sky an' quote th' bible fr'm Walt Whitman,' he says.

'Honest, loyal, thrue-hearted la-ads, how kind I was to thim,' he says."

[Ill.u.s.tration: Read the articles by Roosevelt and Davis in the Car Fare Magazine]

"'We had no sooner landed in Cubia than it become nicessry f'r me to take command iv th' ar-rmy which I did at wanst. A number of days was spint be me in reconnoitring, attinded on'y be me brave an' fluent body guard, Richard Harding Davis. I discovered that th' inimy was heavily inthrenched on th' top iv San Juon hill immejiately in front iv me. At this time it become apparent that I was handicapped be th' prisence iv th' ar-rmy,' he says. 'Wan day whin I was about to charge a block house st.u.r.dily definded be an ar-rmy corps undher Gin'ral Tamale, th' brave Castile that I aftherwards killed with a small ink-eraser that I always carry, I r-ran into th' entire military force iv th' United States lying on its stomach. 'If ye won't fight,' says I, 'let me go through, 'I says. 'Who ar-re ye?' says they. 'Colonel Rosenfelt,' says I. 'Oh, excuse me,' says the gin'ral in command (if me mimry serves me thrue it was Miles) r-risin' to his knees an' salutin'. This showed me 'twud be impossible f'r to carry th' war to a successful con-clusion unless I was free, so I sint th' ar-rmy home an' attackted San Juon hill. Ar-rmed on'y with a small thirty-two which I used in th' West to shoot th' fleet prairie dog, I climbed that precipitous ascent in th' face iv th' most gallin' fire I iver knew or heerd iv. But I had a few r-rounds iv gall mesilf an' what cared I? I dashed madly on cheerin' as I wint. Th'

Spanish throops was dhrawn up in a long line in th' formation known among military men as a long line. I fired at th' man nearest to me an'

I knew be th' expression iv his face that th' trusty bullet wint home.

It pa.s.sed through his frame, he fell, an' wan little home in far-off Catalonia was made happy be th' thought that their riprisintative had been kilt be th' future governor iv New York. Th' bullet sped on its mad flight an' pa.s.sed through th' intire line fin'lly imbeddin' itself in th' abdomen iv th' Ar-rch-bishop iv Santiago eight miles away. This ended th' war.'

"'They has been some discussion as to who was th' first man to r-reach th' summit iv San Juon hill. I will not attempt to dispute th' merits iv th' manny gallant sojers, statesmen, corryspondints an' kinetoscope men who claim th' distinction. They ar-re all brave men an' if they wish to wear my laurels they may. I have so manny annyhow that it keeps me broke havin' thim blocked an' irned. But I will say f'r th' binifit iv Posterity that I was th' on'y man I see. An I had a tillyscope.'"

"I have thried, Hinnissy," Mr. Dooley continued, "to give you a fair idee iv th' contints iv this remarkable book, but what I've tol' ye is on'y what Hogan calls an outline iv th' princ.i.p.al pints. Ye'll have to r-read th' book ye'ersilf to get a thrue conciption. I haven't time f'r to tell ye th' wurruk Tiddy did in ar-rmin' an' equippin' himself, how he fed himsilf, how he steadied himsilf in battle an' encouraged himsilf with a few well-chosen wurruds whin th' sky was darkest. Ye'll have to take a squint into th' book ye'ersilf to l'arn thim things."

"I won't do it," said Mr. Hennessy. "I think Tiddy Rosenfelt is all r- right an' if he wants to blow his hor-rn lave him do it."

"Thrue f'r ye," said Mr. Dooley, "an' if his valliant deeds didn't get into this book 'twud be a long time befure they appeared in Shafter's histhry iv th' war. No man that bears a gredge again' himsilf 'll iver be governor iv a state. An' if Tiddy done it all he ought to say so an'

relieve th' suspinse. But if I was him I'd call th' book 'Alone in Cubia.'"

AMERICANS ABROAD

"I wondher," said Mr. Dooley, "what me Dutch frind Oom Paul'll think whin he hears that Willum Waldorf Asthor has given four thousan' pounds or twinty thousan' iv our money as a conthribution to th' British governmint?"

"Who's Willum Waldorf Asthor?" Mr. Hennessy asked. "I niver heerd iv him."

"Ye wudden't," said Mr. Dooley. "He don't thravel in ye'er set. Willum Waldorf Asthor is a gintleman that wanst committed th' sin iv bein'

bor-rn in this counthry. Ye know what orig-inal sin is, Hinnissy. Ye was bor-rn with wan an' I was bor-rn with wan an' ivrybody was bor-rn with wan. 'Twas took out iv me be Father Tuomy with holy wather first an' be me father aftherward with a sthrap. But I niver cud find out what it was. Th' sins I've committed since, I'm sure iv. They're painted red an'

carry a bell an' whin I'm awake in bed they stan' out on th' wall like th' ilicthric signs they have down be State sthreet in front iv th'

clothin' stores. But I'll go to th' grave without knowin' exactly what th' black orig-inal sin was I committed. All I know is I done wrong. But with Willum Waldorf Asthor 'tis dif'rent. I say 'tis diff'rent with Willum Waldorf Asthor. His orig-inal sin was bein' bor-rn in New York.

He cudden't do anything about it. Nawthin' in this counthry wud wipe it out. He built a hotel intinded f'r jooks who had no sins but thim iv their own makin', but even th' sight iv their haughty bills cud not efface th' stain. He thried to live down his crime without success an'

he thried to live down to it be runnin' f'r congress, but it was no go.

No matther where he wint among his counthrymen in England some wan wud find out he was bor-rn in New York an' th' man that ownded th' house where he was spindin' th' night wud ast him if he was a cannibal an' had he anny Indyan blood in his veins. 'Twas like seein' a fine lookin' man with an intel-lecjal forehead an' handsome, dar-rk brown eyes an'

admirin' him, an' thin larnin' his name is Mudd J. Higgins. His accint was proper an' his clothes didn't fit him right, but he was not bor-rn in th' home iv his dayscindants, an' whin he walked th' sthreets iv London he knew ivry polisman was sayin': 'There goes a man that pretinds to be happy, but a dark sorrow is gnawin' at his bosom. He looks as if he was at home, but he was bor-rn in New York, Gawd help him.'

[Ill.u.s.tration]

"So this poor way-worn sowl, afther thryin' ivry other rimidy fr'm dhrivin' a coach to failin' to vote, at las' sought out th' rile high clark iv th' coort an' says he: 'Behold,' he says, 'an onhappy man,' he says. 'With millyons in me pocket, two hotels an' onlimited credit, 'he says, 'me hear-rt is gray,' he says. 'Poor sowl,' says th' clark iv th'

coort, 'What's ailin' ye'?' he says. 'Have ye committed some gr-reat crime?' he says. 'Partly,' says Willum Waldorf Asthor. 'It was partly me an' partly me folks,' he says. 'I was,' he says, in a voice broken be tears, 'I was,' he says, 'bor-rn in New York,' he says. Th' clark made th' sign iv th' cross an' says he: 'Ye shudden't have come here,' he says. 'Poor afflicted wretch,' he says, 'ye need a clargyman,' he says.

'Why did ye seek me out?' he says. 'Because,' says Willum Waldorf Asthor, 'I wish,' he says, 'f'r to renounce me sinful life,' he says. 'I wish to be bor-rn anew,' he says. An' th' clark bein' a kind man helps him out. An' Willum Waldorf Asthor renounced fealty to all foreign sovereigns, princes an' potentates an' especially Mack th' Wanst, or Twict, iv th' United States an' Sulu an' all his wur-ruks an' he come out iv th' coort with his hat c.o.c.ked over his eye, with a step jaunty and high, afther years iv servile freedom a bondman at last!

"So he's a citizen iv Gr-reat Britain now an' a lile subject iv th'

Queen like you was Hinnissy befure ye was r-run out."

"I niver was," said Mr. Hennessy. "Sure th' Queen iv England was renounced f'r me long befure I did it f'r mesilf--to vote."

"Well, niver mind," Mr. Dooley continued, "he's a citizen iv England an'

he has a castle that's as big as a hotel, on'y n.o.body goes there excipt thim that's ast, an' not all of those, an' he owns a newspaper an' th'

editor iv it's the Prince iv Wales an' th' rayporthers is all jooks an'

th' Archbishop iv Canterbury r-runs th' ilivator, an' slug wan in th'

printin' office is th' Impror iv Germany in disgeese. 'Tis a pa-per I'd like to see. I'd like to know how th' Jook iv Marlbro'd do th' McGovern fight. An' some day Willum Waldorf Asthor'll be able to wurruk f'r his own pa-aper, f'r he's goin' to be a earl or a markess or a jook or somethin' gran'. Ye can't be anny iv these things without money, Hinnissy, an' he has slathers iv it."

"Where does he get it?" demanded Mr. Hennessy.

"F'rm this counthry," said Mr. Dooley.

"I shud think," Mr. Hennessy protested stoutly, "if he's ashamed iv this counthry he wudden't want to take money f'rm it."

"That's where ye're wrong," Mr. Dooley replied. "Take money annywhere ye find it. I'd take money f'rm England, much as I despise that formerly haughty but now dejected land, if I cud get anny from there. An' whin ye come down to it, I dinnaw as I blame Willum Waldorf Asthor f'r s.h.i.+ftin'

his allegiance. Ivry wan to his taste as th' man said whin he dhrank out iv th' fire extinguisher. It depinds on how ye feel. If ye ar-re a tired la-ad an' wan without much fight in ye, livin' in this counthry is like thryin' to read th' Lives iv the Saints at a meetin' iv th' Clan-na- Gael. They'se no quiet f'r annybody. They's a fight on ivry minyit iv th' time. Ye may say to ye'ersilf: 'I'll lave these la-ads roll each other as much as they plaze, but I'll set here in th' shade an' dhrink me milk punch, but ye can't do it. Some wan 'll say, 'Look at that gazabo settin' out there alone. He's too proud f'r to jine in our simple dimmycratic festivities. Lave us go over an' bate him on th' eye.' An'

they do it. Now if ye have fightin' blood in ye'er veins ye hastily gulp down yeer dhrink an' hand ye'er a.s.sailant wan that does him no kind iv good, an' th' first thing ye know ye're in th thick iv it an' its sc.r.a.p, sc.r.a.p, sc.r.a.p till th' undhertaker calls f'r to measure ye. An' 'tis tin to wan they'se somethin' doin' at th' fun'ral that ye're sorry ye missed. That's life in America. Tis a gloryous big fight, a rough an'

tumble fight, a Donnybrook fair three thousan' miles wide an' a ruction in ivry block. Head an' ban's an' feet an' th' pitchers on th' wall. No holds barred. Fight fair but don't f'rget th' other la-ad may not know where th' belt line is. No polisman in sight. A man's down with twinty on top iv him wan minyit. Th' next he's settin' on th' pile usin' a base-ball bat on th' neighbor next below him. 'Come on, boys, f'r 'tis growin' late, an' no wan's been kilt yet. Glory be, but this is th'