Mr. Dooley Says | Page 3

nourishin' th' young, Hinnissy, while fine to read about,
isn't anny kind iv a beauty restorer, an' I've got to tell ye that th' lady
prob'bly looked diff'rent fr'm th' gazelle he use to whistle three times f'r
whin he wint by on Number Iliven. It's no aisy thing to rock th' cradle
with wan hand an' ondylate th' hair with another. Be th' time he was
gettin' into th' upper classes in New York she was slowin' down aven f'r
Mud Center. Their tastes was decidedly dissimilar, says th' pa-aper.
Time was whin he carrid th' wash pitcher down to th' corner f'r a quart
iv malt, while she dandled th' baby an' fried th' round steak at th' same
time. That day was past. She hadn't got to th' pint where she cud dhrink
champagne an' keep it out iv her nose. Th' passin' years had impaired

all possible foundations f'r a new crop iv hair. Sometimes conversation
lagged.
"Mud Center is a long way fr'm th' Casino. Th' last successful
exthravaganza that th' lady had seen was a lecture be Jawn B. Gough.
She got her Eyetalian opry out iv a music box. What was there f'r this
joynt intelleck an' this household tyrant to talk about? No wondher he
pined. Think iv this Light iv th' Tendherloin bein' compelled to set
down ivry month or two an' chat about a new tooth that Hiven had just
sint to a fam'ly up th' sthreet! Nor was that all. She give him no rest.
Time an' time again she asked him was he comin' home that night. She
tortured his proud spirit be recallin' th' time whin she used to flag him
fr'm th' window iv th' room where Papa had locked her in. She aven
wint so far as to dhraw on him th' last cow'rdly weapon iv brutal
wives--their tears. One time she thravelled to New York an' wan iv his
frinds seen her. Oh, it was crool, crool. Hinnissy, tell me, wud ye
condim this gr-reat man to such a slavery just because he'd made a rash
promise whin he didn't have a cent in th' wurruld? Th' law said no.
Whin th' Gr-reat Fi-nanceer cud stand it no longer he called upon th'
Judge to sthrike off th' chains an' make him a free man. He got a
divoorce.
"I dare ye to come down to my house an' say thim things," said Mr.
Hennessy.
"Oh, I know ye don't agree with me," said Mr. Dooley. "Nayether does
th' parish priest. He's got it into his head that whin a man's marrid he's
marrid, an' that's all there is to it. He puts his hand in th' grab-bag an'
pulls out a blank an' he don't get his money back.
"'Ill-mated couples?' says he. 'Ill-mated couples? What ar-re ye talkin'
about? Ar-re there anny other kinds? Ar-re there anny two people in th'
wurruld that ar-re perfectly mated?' he says. 'Was there iver a frindship
that was annything more thin a kind iv suspension bridge between
quarrels?' he says. 'In ivry branch iv life,' says he, 'we leap fr'm scrap to
scrap,' he says. 'I'm wan iv th' best-timpered men in th' wurruld, am I
not? ('Ye are not,' says I.) I'm wan iv th' kindest iv mortals,' he says,
'but put me in th' same house with Saint Jerome,' he says, 'an' there'd be

at laste wan day in th' month whin I'd answer his last wurrd be
slammin' th' dure behind me,' he says. 'Man is nachrally a fightin' an
quarrelin' animal with his wife. Th' soft answer don't always turn away
wrath. Sometimes it makes it worse,' he says. 'Th' throuble about
divoorce is it always lets out iv th' bad bargain th' wan that made it bad.
If I owned a half in a payin' business with ye, I'd niver let th' sun go
down on a quarrel,' he says. 'But if ye had a bad mouth I'd go into coort
an' wriggle out iv th' partnership because ye'ar a cantankerous old
villain that no wan cud get on with,' he says. 'If people knew they
cudden't get away fr'm each other they'd settle down to life, just as I
detarmined to like coal smoke whin I found th' collection wasn't big
enough to put a new chimbley in th' parish house. I've acchally got to
like it,' he says. 'There ain't anny condition iv human life that's not
endurable if ye make up ye'er mind that ye've got to endure it,' he says.
'Th' throuble with the rich,' he says, 'is this, that whin a rich man has a
perfectly nachral scrap with his beloved over breakfast, she stays at
home an' does nawthin' but think about it, an' he goes