Mr. Dooley Says | Page 4

out an' does
nawthin but think about it, an' that afthernoon they're in their lawyers'
office,' he says. 'But whin a poor gintleman an' a poor lady fall out, the
poor lady puts all her anger into rubbin' th' zinc off th' wash-boord an'
th' poor gintleman aises his be murdhrin' a slag pile with a shovel, an'
be th' time night comes ar-round he says to himself: Well, I've got to go
home annyhow, an' it's no use I shud be onhappy because I'm
misjudged, an' he puts a pound iv candy into his coat pocket an' goes
home an' finds her standin' at th' dure with a white apron on an' some
new ruching ar-round her neck,' he says.
"An' there ye ar-re. Two opinions."
"I see on'y wan," said Mr. Hennessy. "What do ye raaly think?"
"I think," said Mr. Dooley, "if people wanted to be divoorced I'd let
thim, but I'd give th' parents into th' custody iv th' childher. They'd larn
thim to behave."

GLORY

"Hogan has been in here this afthernoon, an' I've heerd more scandal
talked thin I iver thought was in the wurrld."
"Hogan had betther keep quiet," said Mr. Hennessy. "If he goes
circulatin' anny stories about me I'll--"
"Ye needn't worry," said Mr. Dooley. "We didn't condiscend to talk
about annywan iv ye'er infeeryor station. If ye want to be th' subjick iv
our scand'lous discoorse ye'd betther go out an' make a repytation. No,
sir, our talk was entirely about th' gr-reat an' illusthrees an' it ran all th'
way fr'm Julius Cayzar to Ulysses Grant.
"Dear, oh dear, but they were th' bad lot. Thank th' Lord nobody knows
about me. Thank th' Lord I had th' good sinse to retire f'rm pollyticks
whin me repytation had spread as far as Halsted Sthreet. If I'd let it go a
block farther I'd've been sorry f'r it th' rest iv me life an' some years
afther me death.
"I wanted to be famous in thim days, whin I was young an' foolish.
'Twas th' dhream iv me life to have people say as I wint by: 'There goes
Dooley, th' gr-reatest statesman iv his age,' an' have thim name babies,
sthreets, schools, canal boats, an' five-cent seegars afther me, an' whin I
died to have it put in th' books that 'at this critical peeryod in th' history
of America there was need iv a man who combined strenth iv
charackter with love iv counthry. Such a man was found in Martin
Dooley, a prom'nent retail liquor dealer in Ar-rchey Road.'
"That's what I wanted, an' I'm glad I didn't get me wish. If I had, 'tis
little attintion to me charackter that th' books iv what Hogan calls
bi-ography wud pay, but a good deal to me debts. Though they
mintioned th' fact that I resked death f'r me adopted fatherland, they'd
make th' more intherestin' story about th' time I almost met it be fallin'
down stairs while runnin' away fr'm a polisman. F'r wan page they'd
print about me love iv counthry, they'd print fifty about me love iv
dhrink.
"Th' things thim gr-reat men done wud give thim a place in Byrnes's
book. If Julius Caysar was alive to-day he'd be doin' a lockstep down in

Joliet. He was a corner loafer in his youth an' a robber in his old age.
He busted into churches, fooled ar-round with other men's wives,
curled his hair with a poker an' smelled iv perfumery like a Saturday
night car. An' his wife was a suspicyous charackter an' he turned her
away.
"Napolyon Bonypart, impror iv th' Fr-rinch, was far too gay aven f'r
thim friv'lous people, an' had fits. His first wife was no betther than she
shud be, an' his second wife didn't care f'r him. Willum Shakespeare is
well known as an author of plays that no wan can play, but he was
betther known as a two-handed dhrinker, a bad actor, an' a thief. His
wife was a common scold an' led him th' life he desarved. They niver
leave th' ladies out iv these stories iv th' gr-reat. A woman that marries
a janius has a fine chance iv her false hair becomin' more immortal thin
his gr-reatest deed. It don't make anny difference if all she knew about
her marital hero was that he was a consistent feeder, a sleepy husband,
an' indulgent to his childher an' sometimes to himsilf, an' that she had
to darn his socks. Nearly all th' gr-reat men had something th' matther
with their wives. I always thought Mrs. Wash'nton, who was th' wife iv
th' father iv our counthry, though childless hersilf, was about right. She
looks good in th' pitchers, with a shawl ar-round her neck