Mr. Dooley's Philosophy Part 4

THE CHINESE SITUATION

"Well, sir," said Mr. Hennessy, "to think iv th' audacity iv thim Chinymen! It do bate all."

"It do that," said Mr. Dooley. "It bates th' wurruld. An' what's it comin' to? You an' me looks at a Chinyman as though he wasn't good f'r annything but was.h.i.+n' s.h.i.+rts, an' not very good at that. Tis wan iv th'

spoorts iv th' youth iv our gr-reat cities to rowl an impty beer keg down th' steps iv a Chinee laundhry, an' if e'er a Chinyman come out to resint it they'd take him be th' pigtail an' do th' joynt swing with him. But th' Chinyman at home's a diff'rent la-ad. He's with his frinds an' they're manny iv thim an' he's rowlin' th' beer kegs himsilf an'

Westhren Civilization is down in th' laundhry wondhrin' whin th'

police'll come along."

"Th' Lord f'rgive f'r sayin' it, Hinnissy, but if I was a Chinyman, which I will fight anny man f'r sayin,' an' was livin' at home, I'd tuck me s.h.i.+rt into me pants, put me braid up in a net, an' go out an' take a fall out iv th' in-vader if it cost me me life. Here am I, Hop Lung Dooley, r-runnin' me little liquor store an' p'rhaps raisin' a family in th' town iv Koochoo. I don't like foreigners there anny more thin I do here. Along comes a bald-headed man with chin whiskers from Baraboo, Wisconsin, an' says he: 'Benighted an' haythen Dooley,' says he, 'ye have no G.o.d,' he says. 'I have,' says I. 'I have a lot iv thim,' says I.

'Ye ar-re an oncultivated an' foul crather,' he says. 'I have come six thousan' miles f'r to hist ye fr'm th' mire iv ignorance an' irrellijon in which ye live to th' lofty plane iv Baraboo,' he says. An' he sets down on an aisy chair, an' his wife an' her friends come in an' they inthrojooce Mrs. Dooley to th' modhren improvements iv th' corset an'

th' hat with th' blue bur-rd onto it, an' put shame into her because she hasn't let her feet grow, while th' head mission'ry reads me a pome out iv th' _Northwesthren Christyan Advocate_. 'Well,' says I, 'look here, me good fellow,' I says. 'Me an' me people has occypied these here primises f'r manny years,' I says, 'an' here we mean to stay,' I says.

'We're doin' th' best we can in th' matther iv G.o.ds,' says I. 'We have thim cast at a first-rate foundhry,' I says, 'an' we sandpa-aper thim ivry week,' says I. 'As f'r knowin' things,' I says, 'me people wrote pomes with a markin' brush whin th' likes iv ye was r-runnin' ar-round wearin' a short pelisse iv sheepskins an' batin' each other to death with stone hammers,' says I. An' I'm f'r firin' him out, but bein' a quite man I lave him stay."

"Th' nex' day in comes a man with a suit iv clothes that looks like a tablecloth in a section house, an' says he: 'Poor ignorant haythen,' he says, 'what manner iv food d'ye ate?' he says. 'Rice,' says I, 'an' rats is me fav'rite dish,' I says. 'Deluded wretch,' says he. 'I riprisint Armour an' Company, an' I'm here to make ye change ye'er dite,' he says.

'Hinceforth ye'll ate th' canned roast beef iv merry ol' stock yards or I'll have a file iv sojers in to fill ye full iv ondygistible lead,' he says. An' afther him comes th' man with Aunt Miranda's Pan Cakes an'

Flaked Bran an' Ye'll-perish-if-ye-don't-eat-a-biscuit an' other riprisintatives iv Westhern Civilization, an' I'm to be shot if I don't take thim all."

"Thin a la-ad runs down with a chain an' a small gla.s.s on three sticks an' a gang iv section men that answers to th' name iv Casey, an' pro- ceeds f'r to put down a railroad. 'What's this f'r?' says I. 'We ar-re th' advance guard iv Westhren Civilization,' he says, 'an we're goin' to give ye a railroad so ye can go swiftly to places that ye don't want to see,' he says. 'A counthry that has no railroads is beneath contimpt,'

he says. 'Casey,' he says,'sthretch th' chain acrost yon graveyard,' he says. 'I aim f'r to put th' thrack just befure that large tombstone marked Riquiescat in Pace, James H. Chung-a-lung,' he says. 'But,' says I, 'ye will disturb pah's bones,' says I, 'if ye go to layin' ties,' I says. 'Ye'll be mixin' up me ol' man with th' Ca.s.sidy's in th' nex' lot that,' I says, 'he niver spoke to save in anger in his life,' I says.

'Ye're an ancestor wors.h.i.+per, heathen,' says the la-ad, an' he goes on to tamp th' mounds in th' cimitry an ballast th' thrack with th' remains iv th' deceased. An' afther he's got through along comes a Fr-rinchman, an' an Englishman, an' a Rooshan, an' a Dutchman, an' says wan iv them: 'This is a comfortable lookin' saloon,' he says. 'I'll take th' bar, ye take th' ice-box an' th' r-rest iv th' fixtures.' 'What f'r?' says I.

'I've paid th' rent an' th' license,' says I. 'Niver mind,' says he.

'We're th' riprisintatives iv Westhren Civilization,' he says, 'an' 'tis th' business iv Westhren Civilization to cut up th' belongings iv Easthren Civilization,' he says. 'Be off,' he says, 'or I'll pull ye'er hair,' he says. 'Well,' says I, 'this thing has gone far enough,' I says. 'I've heerd me good ol' cast-iron G.o.ds or josses abused,' I says, 'an' I've been packed full iv canned goods, an' th' Peking Lightnin'

Express is r-runnin' sthraight through th' lot where th' bones iv me ancesthors lies,' I says. 'I've shtud it all,' I says, 'but whin ye come here to bounce me off iv me own primises,' I says, 'I'll have to take th' leg iv th' chair to ye,' I says. An' we're to th' flure."

"That's th' way it stands in Chiny, Hinnissy, an' it looks to me as though Westhren Civilization was in f'r a b.u.mp. I mind wanst whin a dhrunk prize fighter come up th' r-road and wint to sleep on Slavin's steps. Some iv th' good sthrong la-ads happened along an' they were near bein' at blows over who shud have his watch an' who shud take his hat.

While they were debatin' he woke up an' begin cuttin' loose with hands an' feet, an' whin he got through he made a collection iv th' things they dhropped in escapin' an' marched ca'mly down th' sthreet. Mebbe 'twill tur-rn out so in Chiny, Hinnissy. I see be th' pa-apers that they'se four hundherd millyons iv thim boys an' be hivins! 'twuddent surprise me if whin they got through batin' us at home, they might say to thimsilves: 'Well, here goes f'r a jaunt ar-roun' the wurruld.' Th'

time may come, Hinnissey, whin ye'll be squirtin' wather over Hop Lee's s.h.i.+rt while a man named Chow Fung kicks down ye'er sign an' heaves rocks through ye'er windy. The time may come, Hinnissy. Who knows?"

"End ye'er blather," said Mr. Hennessy. "They won't be anny Chinymen left whin Imp'ror Willum gets through."

"Mebbe not," says Mr. Dooley. "He's a sthrong man. But th' Chinymen have been on earth a long time, an' I don't see how we can push so manny iv thim off iv it. Annyhow, 'tis a good thing f'r us they ain't Christyans an' haven't larned properly to sight a gun."

MINISTER WU

"Well, sir, me little Chinee frind Woo must be havin' th' time iv his life in Wash'nton these warm days," said Mr. Dooley.

"Who's he?" asked Mr. Hennessy.

"He's th' Chinee ministher," said Mr. Dooley, "an' his business is f'r to supply fresh hand-laundhried misinformation to the sicrety iv state.

Th' sicrety iv state is settin' in his office feelin' blue because he's just heerd be a specyal corryspondint iv th' London Daily Pail at Sydney, Austhreelya, who had it fr'm a slatewriter in Duluth that an ar- rmy iv four hundherd an' eight thousan' millyon an' sivinty-five bloodthirsty Chinee, ar-rmed with flatirnes an' cryin', 'Bung Loo!'

which means, Hinnissy, 'Kill th' foreign divvles, dhrive out th'

missionries, an' set up in Chiny a gover'mint f'r the Chinee,' is marchin' on Vladivostook in Siberyia, not far fr'm Tinsin."

A knock comes at th' dure an' Woo enthers. 'Well,' says he, with a happy smile, "tis all right.' 'What's all right?' says the sicrety iv state.

'Ivrything,' says Woo. 'I have just found a letter sewed in a s.h.i.+rt fr'm me frind Lie Much, th' viceroy iv b.u.mbang. It is dated th' fourth hour iv th' third day iv th' eighth or green-cheese moon,' he says. 'What day is that?' says the sicrety iv state. 'It's Choosdah, th' fourth iv July; Winsdah, th' eighth iv October, an' Thursdah, the sivinteenth iv March,'

he says. 'Pathrick's day,' says th' sicrety iv state. 'Thrue f'r ye,'

says Woo. 'What year?' says Jawn Hay. 'The year iv th' big wind,' says Woo. 'Good,' says John Hay, 'proceed with ye'er story.' 'Here's th'

letther,' says Woo. 'I know 'tis genooyine because it is an ol' dhress patthern used be th' impress. It says: 'Oscar Woo, care iv himsilf, annywhere: Dear Woo, brother iv th' moon, uncle iv th' sun, an' roommate iv th' stars, dear sir: Yours iv th' eighth day iv th' property moon rayceived out iv th' air yesterdah afthernoon or to-morrow, an' was glad to note ye ar-re feelin' well. Ivrything over here is th' same ol' pair iv boots. Nawthin' doin'. Peking is as quiet as th' gr-rave. Her majesty, th' impress, is sufferin' slightly fr'm death be poison, but is still able to do th' cookin' f'r the Rooshan amba.s.sadure. Th' impror was beheaded las' week an' feels so much betther f'r the op'ration that he expicts to be quarthered nex' Sundah. He's always wanted to rayjooce his weight. Some iv th' Boxers called on th' foreigners at Tinsin las' week an' met a warrum rayciption. Th' foreigners aftherward paid a visit to thim through a hole in th' wall, an' a jolly day concluded with a foot race, at which our people are becomin' expert. Some iv th' boys expicts to come up to Peking nex' week, an' th' people along th' line iv th'

railroad are gettin' ready f'r thim. This is really all the news I have, excipt that cherries ar-re ripe. Me pin is poor, me ink is dhry, me love f'r you can niver die. Give me regards to Sicrety Hay whin he wakes up.

I remain, ill.u.s.thrus cousin iv th' risin' dawn, thruly ye'ers, Li.

P. S.--If ye need anny more information take a longer dhraw.'

"'That,' says Woo, 'is wan way iv r-readin' it. Read upside down it says that the impress has become a Swedenboorjan. I will r-read it standin'

on me head whin I get home where I can pin down me overskirt; thin I'll r-read it in a lookin' gla.s.s; thin I'll saw it into sthrips an' r-run it through a wringer an' lave it stand in a tub iv bluein', an' whin its properly starched I'll find out what it says. Fin'lly I'll cut it into small pieces an' cook with rice an' lave it to rest in a cool place, an'

thin 'twill r-read even betther. I hope ye're satisfied,' he says. 'I am,' says Jawn Hay. 'I'll tillygraft to Mark that ivrything is all r- right,' he says, 'an' that our relations with his majesty or her majesty or their Boxers.h.i.+ps or th' Down-with-th'-foreign-divvlers or whoiver's runnin' th' shop over beyant are as they ought to be or worse or betther, as th' case may be,' he says. 'Good,' says Woo, 'ye're a man afther me own heart,' he says. 'I'll sind ye a little book wrote be a frind iv mine in Peking,' he says. "Tis called "Heart to Heart Lies I Have Had," he says. 'Ye'll like it,' he says. 'In the manetime,' he says, 'I must write a secret message to go out be to-night's hot-air express to me corryspondint in Meriden, Connecticut, urgin' him to sind more im-peeryal ed.i.c.ks iv a fav'r-able nature,' he says. 'I've on'y had twinty so far, an' I'm gettin' scrivener's palsy,' he says. 'But befure I go,' he says, 'I bet ye eight millyon yens, or three dollars an'

eighty-four cints iv ye'er money, that ye can't pick out th' sh.e.l.l this here pea is undher,' he says. An' they set down to a game iv what is known at Peking as diplomacy, Hinnissy, but on Randolph sthreet viadock is called the double dirty."

"I don't believe wan wurrud iv what's in th' pa-apers about Chiny," said Mr. Hennessy.

"Well," said Mr. Dooley, "if ye believe annything ye'll believe ivrything. 'Tis a grand contist that's goin' on between Westhren an'

Easthren civilliezation. 'Tis a joke iv me own, Hinnissy, an' ye'd undherstand it if ye knew spellin. Th' Westhren civilization, Hinnissy --that's us--is a pretty good liar, but he's a kind iv rough-an'-tumble at it. He goes in head down, an' ivry lie he tells looks like all th'

others. Ye niver see an Englishman that had anny judgment in lyin'. Th'

corryspondint iv th' Daily Pail is out iv his cla.s.s. He's carryin' lies to Lieville. How in th' wurruld can we compete with a counthry where ivry lab'rer's cottage projooces lies so delicate that th' workmen iv th' West can't undherstand thim? We make our lies be machinery; they tur-rn out theirs be hand. They imitate th' best iv our canned lies to deceive people that likes that kind, but f'r artists they have lies that appeals to a more refined taste. Sure I'd like to live among thim an'

find out th' kind iv bouncers they tell each other. They must be gr- rand. I on'y know their export lies now--th' surplus lies they can't use at home. An' th' kind they sind out ar-re betther thin our best. Our lies is no more thin a conthradiction iv th' thruth; their lies appeals to th' since iv honesty iv anny civilized man."

"They can't hurt us with their lies," said Mr. Hennessy of our Western civilization. "We have th' guns an' we'll bate thim yet"

"Yes," said Mr. Dooley, "an' 'twill be like a man who's had his house desthroyed be a cyclone gettin' up an' kickin' at th' air."

THE FUTURE OF CHINA

"Be th' time th' Chinese gets through with this here job o' theirs,"

said Mr. Dooley, "they'll know a thing or two about good manners an'

Christyan idees."

"They need thim," said Mr. Hennessy.

"They do so," said Mr. Dooley. "An' they'll get thim. By an' by th'

allied foorces will proceed to Peking. It may not be in ye'er life time or in mine, or in th' life time iv th' ministhers, Hinnissy. They ar-re in no hurry. Th' ministhers ar-re as comfortable as they can be on a dite iv polo ponies an' bamboo, an' they have exercise enough dodgin'

cannon b.a.l.l.s to have no fear iv indygisthion. They'se no need of haste.

Th' allied foorces must take no step forward while wan ar-rmed foe survives. It was rayported last week that th' advance had begun, but on sindin' out scouts 'twas discovered that th' asphalt road to th' capital was not r-ready an' th' gallant sojer boys was afraid to risk their beecycles on a defictive pavement. Thin th' parlor cars ordhered be th'

Rooshan admiral has not arrived an' wan iv th' Frinch gin'rals lost an omelette, or whativer 'tis they wear on their shouldhers, an' he won't budge till it can be replaced fr'm Pahrs. A sthrong corps iv miners an'

sappers has gone ahead f'r to lo-cate good resthrants on th' line iv march, but th' weather is cloudy an' th' silk umbrellys haven't arrived, an' they'se supposed to be four hundhred millyon Chiny-men with pinwheels an' Roman candles blockin' th' way, so th' advance has been postponed indifinitely. Th' American foorces is r-ready f'r to start immejately, but they ar-re not there yet. Th' British gin'ral is waitin'

f'r th' Victorya cross befure he does annything, an' th' j.a.panese an'

th' Rooshan is dancin' up an' down sayin' 'Afther you, me boy.'"

"But afther awhile, whin th' frost is on th' pumpkin an' th' corn is in th' shock, whin th' roads has been repaired, an' ivry gin'ral's lookin'