Mr. Dooley: In the Hearts of His Countrymen | Page 3

down on
him, an' afther a while they're ready to hang him to get him out iv th'
way. As Hogan says, 'Th' las' thing that happens to a pathrite he's a
scoundhrel.'
"Las' summer there wasn't a warmer pathrite annywhere in our
imperyal dominions thin this same Aggynaldoo. I was with him mesilf.
Says I: 'They'se a good coon,' I says. 'He'll help us f'r to make th'
Ph'lippeens indepindint on us f'r support,' I says; 'an', whin th' blessin's
iv civilization has been extinded to his beloved counthry, an',' I says,
'they put up intarnal rivinue offices an' post-offices,' I says, 'we'll give

him a good job as a letter-carrier,' I says, 'where he won't have
annything to do,' I says, 'but walk,' I says.
"An' so th' consul at Ding Dong, th' man that r-runs that end iv th' war,
he says to Aggynaldoo: 'Go,' he says, 'where glory waits ye,' he says.
'Go an' sthrike a blow,' he says, 'f'r ye'er counthry,' he says. 'Go,' he
says. 'I'll stay, but you go,' he says. 'They's nawthin' in stayin', an' ye
might get hold iv a tyrannical watch or a pocket book down beyant,' he
says. An' off wint th' brave pathrite to do his jooty. He done it, too.
Whin Cousin George was pastin' th' former hated Castiles, who was it
stood on th' shore shootin' his bow-an-arrow into th' sky but
Aggynaldoo? Whin me frind Gin'ral Merritt was ladin' a gallant charge
again blank catredges, who was it ranged his noble ar-rmy iv pathrites
behind him f'r to see that no wan attackted him fr'm th' sea but
Aggynaldoo? He was a good man thin,--a good noisy man.
"Th' throuble was he didn't know whin to knock off. He didn't hear th'
wurruk bell callin' him to come in fr'm playin' ball an' get down to
business. Says me Cousin George: "Aggynaldoo, me buck,' he says, 'th'
war is over,' he says, 'an' we've settled down to th' ol' game,' he says.
'They're no more heroes. All iv thim has gone to wurruk f'r th'
magazines. They're no more pathrites,' he says. 'They've got jobs as
gov'nors or ar-re lookin' f'r thim or annything else,' he says. 'All th'
prom'nint saviors iv their counthry,' he says, 'but mesilf,' he says, 'is
busy preparin' their definse,' he says. 'I have no definse,' he says; 'but
I'm where they can't reach me,' he says. 'Th' spoort is all out iv th' job;
an', if ye don't come in an' jine th' tilin masses iv wage-wurrukers,' he
says, 'ye won't even have th' credit iv bein' licked in a gloryous victhry,'
he says. 'So to th' woodpile with ye!' he says; 'f'r ye can't go on
cillybratin' th' Foorth iv July without bein' took up f'r disordherly
conduct,' he says.
"An' Aggynaldoo doesn't undherstand it. An' he gathers his Archery
Club ar-round him, an' says he: 'Fellow-pathrites,' he says, 'we've been
betrayed,' he says. 'We've been sold out without,' he says, 'gettin' th'
usual commission,' he says. 'We're still heroes,' he says; 'an' our
pitchers is in th' pa-apers,' he says. 'Go in,' he says, 'an' sthrike a blow at

th' gay deceivers,' he says. 'I'll sell ye'er lives dearly,' he says. An' th'
Archery Club wint in. Th' pathrites wint up again a band iv Kansas
sojers, that was wanst heroes befure they larned th'
hay-foot-sthraw-foot, an' is now arnin' th' wages iv a good harvest hand
all th' year ar-round, an' 'd rather fight than ate th' ar-rmy beef, an' ye
know what happened. Some iv th' poor divvles iv heroes is liberated
fr'm th' cares iv life; an' th' r-rest iv thim is up in threes, an' wishin' they
was home, smokin' a good see-gar with mother.
"An' all this because Aggynaldoo didn't hear th' whistle blow. He
thought th' boom was still on in th' hero business. If he'd come in, ye'd
be hearin' that James Haitch Aggynaldoo 'd been appointed foorth-class
postmasther at Hootchey-Kootchey; but now th' nex' ye know iv him 'll
be on th' blotther at th' polis station: 'James Haitch Aggynaldoo, alias
Pompydoor Jim, charged with carryin' concealed weepins an' ray-sistin'
an officer.' Pathriteism always dies when ye establish a polis foorce."
"Well," said Mr. Hennessy, "I'm kind iv sorry f'r th' la-ads with th'
bows an' arrows. Maybe they think they're pathrites."
"Divvle th' bit iv difference it makes what they think, so long as we
don't think so," said Mr. Dooley. "It's what Father Kelly calls a case iv
mayhem et chew 'em. That's Latin, Hinnissy; an' it manes what's wan
man's food is another man's pizen."

RUDYARD KIPLING.
"I think," said Mr. Dooley, "th' finest pothry in th' wurruld is wrote be
that frind iv young Hogan's, a