Observations by Mr Dooley | Page 6

forgin' a check in th' full knowledge that some day he'll get him f'r th'
right thing. No, sir; he's an injanyous man that can put two an' two
together an' make eight iv thim. He applies his brain to crime, d'ye
mind, an' divvle th' crime, no matther how cunnin' it is, will escape him.
We'll suppose, Hinnissy, that I'm Sherlock Holmes. I'm settin' here in
me little parlor wearin' a dhressin' gown an' now an' thin pokin' mesilf
full iv morpheen. Here we are. Ye come in. 'Good-mornin', Watson.'"
"I ain't Watson," said Mr. Hennessy. "I'm Hinnissy."
"Ah," said Mr. Dooley; "I thought I'd wring it fr'm ye. Perhaps ye'd like
to know how I guessed ye had come in. 'Tis very simple. On'y a
matther iv observation. I heerd ye'er step; I seen ye'er refliction in th'
lookin' glass; ye spoke to me. I put these things together with me
thrained faculty f'r observation an' deduction, d'ye mind. Says I to
mesilf: 'This must be Hinnissy.' But mind ye, th' chain iv circumstances
is not complete. It might be some wan disguised as ye. So says I to
mesilf: 'I will throw this newcome, whoiver he is, off his guard, be
callin' him be a sthrange name!' Ye wudden't feel complimented,
Hinnissy, if ye knew who Watson is. Watson knows even less than ye
do. He don't know annything, an' annything he knows is wrong. He has
to look up his name in th' parish raygisther befure he can speak to
himsilf. He's a gr-reat frind iv Sherlock Holmes an' if Sherlock Holmes
iver loses him, he'll find him in th' nearest asylum f'r th' feeble-minded.
But I surprised ye'er secret out iv ye. Thrown off ye'er guard be me

innocent question, ye popped out 'I'm Hinnissy,' an' in a flash I guessed
who ye were. Be th' same process iv raisonin' be deduction, I can tell ye
that ye were home las' night in bed, that ye're on ye'er way to wurruk,
an' that ye'er salary is two dollars a day. I know ye were at home las'
night because ye ar-re always at home between iliven an' sivin, bar
Pathrick's night, an' ye'er wife hasn't been in lookin' f'r ye. I know ye're
on ye'er way to wurruk because I heerd ye'er dinner pail jingle as ye
stepped softly in. I know ye get two dollars a day because ye tol' me ye
get three an' I deducted thirty-three an' wan third per cint f'r poetic
license. 'Tis very simple. Ar-re those shoes ye have on ye'er feet? Be
hivins, I thought so."
Simple," said Mr. Hennessy, scornfully; "'tis foolish."
"Niver mind," said Mr. Dooley. "Pass th' dope, Watson. Now bein' full
iv th' cillybrated Chow Sooey brand, I addhress me keen mind to th'
discussion iv th' case iv Dorsey's dog. Watson, look out iv th' window
an' see if that's a cab goin' by ringin' a gong. A throlley car? So much
th' betther. Me observation tol' me it was not a balloon or a comet or a
reindeer. Ye ar-re a gr-reat help to me, Watson. Pass th' dope. Was
there a dog on th' car? No? That simplifies th' thing. I had an idee th'
dog might have gone to wurruk. He was a bull-tarryer, ye say. D'ye
know annything about his parents? Be Mulligan's Sloppy Weather out
iv O'Hannigan's Diana iv th' Slough? Iv coorse. Was ayether iv thim
seen in th' neighborhood th' night iv th' plant? No? Thin it is not, as
manny might suppose, a case iv abduction. What were th' habits iv
Dorsey's coyote? Was he a dog that dhrank? Did he go out iv nights?
Was he payin' anny particular attintions to anny iv th' neighbors? Was
he baffled in love? Ar-re his accounts sthraight? Had Dorsey said
annything to him that wud 've made him despondent? Ye say no. He led
a dog's life but seemed to be happy. Thin 'tis plainly not a case iv
suicide.
"I'm gettin' up close to th' criminals. Another shot iv th' mad mixture.
Wait till I can find a place in th' ar-rm. There ye ar-re. Well, Watson,
what d'ye make iv it?"
"If ye mane me, Dugan stole th' dog."

"Not so fast," said Mr. Dooley. "Like all men iv small minds ye make
ye'ers up readily. Th' smaller th' mind, th' aisier 'tis made up. Ye'ers is
like a blanket on th' flure befure th' fire. All ye have to do to make it up
is to lave it. Mine is like a large double bed, an' afther I've been tossin'
in it, 'tis no aisy job to make it up. I will puncture me tire with th'
fav'rite flower iv Chinnytown an' go on. We know