Mr. Dooley's Philosophy, Finley Peter Dunne [great novels TXT] 📗

boss is aristocracy to him, an' so it goes, up to the czar of Rooshia. He's th' pick iv th' bunch, th' high man iv all, th' Pope not goin' in society. Well, Mrs. Cassidy was aristocracy to O'Leary. He niver see such a stylish woman as she was whin she turned out iv a Sundah afthernoon in her horse an' buggy. He'd think to himsilf, 'If I iver can win that I'm settled f'r life,' an' iv coorse he did. 'Twas a gran' weddin'; manny iv th' guests didn't show up at wurruk f'r weeks."

"O'Leary done well, an' she was a good wife to him. She made money an' kept him sthraight an' started him for constable. He won out, bein' a sthrong man. Thin she got him to r-run f'r aldher-man, an' ye shud've seen her th' night he was inaugurated! Be hivins, Hinnissy, she looked like a fire in a pawnshop, fair covered with dimons an' goold watches an' chains. She was cut out to be an aldherman's wife, and it was worth goin' miles to watch her leadin' th' gran' march at th' Ar-rchy Road Dimmycratic Fife an' Dhrum Corps ball."

"But there she stopped. A good woman an' a kind wan, she cudden't go th' distance. She had th' house an' th' childher to care f'r an' her eddy- cation was through with. They isn't much a woman can learn afther she begins to raise a fam'ly. But with O'Leary 'twas diffrent. I say 'twas diff'rent with O'Leary. Ye talk about ye'er colleges, Hinnissy, but pollytics is th' poor man's college. A la-ad without enough book larnin' to r-read a meal-ticket, if ye give him tin years iv polly-tical life, has th' air iv a statesman an' th' manner iv a jook, an' cud take anny job fr'm dalin' faro bank to r-runnin th' threasury iv th' United States. His business brings him up again' th' best men iv th' com- munity, an' their customs an' ways iv speakin' an' thinkin' an robbin' sticks to him. Th' good woman is at home all day. Th' on'y people she sees is th' childher an' th' neighbors. While th' good man in a swallow- tail coat is addhressin' th' Commercial club on what we shud do f'r to reform pollytics, she's discussin' th' price iv groceries with th' plumber's wife an' talkin' over th' back fince to the milkman. Thin O'Leary moves up on th' boolyvard. He knows he'll get along all r-right on th' boolyvard. Th' men'll say: 'They'se a good deal of rugged common sinse in that O'Leary. He may be a robber, but they's mighty little that escapes him.' But no wan speaks to Mrs. O'Leary. No wan asts her opinion about our foreign policy. She sets day in an' day out behind th' dhrawn curtains iv her three-story brownstone risidence prayin' that somewan'll come in an' see her, an if annywan comes she's frozen with fear. An' 'tis on'y whin she slips out to Ar-rchey r-road an' finds th' plumber's wife, an' sets in th' kitchen over a cup iv tay, that peace comes to her. By an' by they offer O'Leary th' nommynation f'r congress. He knows he's fit for it. He's sthronger thin th' young lawyer they have now. People'll listen to him in Wash'nton as they do in Chicago. He says: 'I'll take it.' An' thin he thinks iv th' wife an' they's no Wash'nton f'r him. His pollytical career is over. He wud niver have been constable if he hadn't marrid, but he might have been sinitor if he was a widower."

"Mrs. O'Leary was in to see th' Dargans th' other day. 'Ye mus' be very happy in ye'er gran' house, with Mr. O'Leary doin' so well,' says Mrs. Dargan. An' th' on'y answer th' foolish woman give was to break down an' weep on Mrs. Dargan's neck."

"Yet ye say a pollytician oughtn't to get marrid," said Mr. Hennessy.

"Up to a certain point," said Mr. Dooley, "he must be marrid. Afther that--well, I on'y say that, though pollytics is a gran' career f'r a man, 'tis a tough wan f'r his wife."


ALCOHOL AS FOOD

"If a man come into this saloon--" Mr. Hennessy was saying.

"This ain't no saloon," Mr. Dooley interrupted. "This is a resthrant."

"A what?" Mr. Hennessy exclaimed.

"A resthrant," said Mr. Dooley. "Ye don't know, Hinnissy, that liquor is food. It is though. Food--an' dhrink. That's what a doctor says in the pa-apers, an' another doctor wants th' gover'mint to sind tubs iv th' stuff down to th' Ph'lipeens. He says 'tis almost issintial that people shud dhrink in thim hot climates. Th' prespiration don't dhry on thim afther a hard pursoot iv Aggynaldoo an' th' capture iv Gin'ral Pantaloons de Garshy; they begin to think iv home an' mother sindin' down th' lawn-sprinkler to be filled with bock, an' they go off somewhere, an' not bein' able to dhry thimsilves with dhrink, they want to die. Th' disease is called nostalgia or home-sickness, or thirst."

"'What we want to do f'r our sojer boys in th' Ph'lipeens besides killin' thim,' says th' ar-rmy surgeon, 'is make th' place more homelike,' he says. 'Manny iv our heroes hasn't had th' deleeryum thremens since we first planted th' stars an' sthripes,' he says, 'an' th' bay'nits among th' people,' he says. 'I wud be in favor iv havin' th' rigimints get their feet round wanst a week, at laste,' he says. 'Lave us,' he says, 'reform th' reg'lations,' he says, 'an' insthruct our sojers to keep their powdher dhry an' their whistles wet,' he says."

"Th' idee ought to take, Hinnissy, f'r th' other doctor la-ad has discovered that liquor is food. 'A man,' says he, 'can live f'r months on a little booze taken fr'm time to time,' he says 'They'se a gr-reat dale iv nourishment in it,' he says. An' I believe him, f'r manny's th' man I know that don't think iv eatin' whin he can get a dhrink. I wondher if the time will iver come whin ye'll see a man sneakin' out iv th' fam'ly enthrance iv a lunch-room hurridly bitin' a clove! People may get so they'll carry a light dinner iv a pint iv rye down to their wurruk, an' a man'll tell ye he niver takes more thin a bottle iv beer f'r breakfast. Th' cook'll give way to th' bartinder and th' doctor 'll ordher people f'r to ate on'y at meals. Ye'll r-read in th' pa-apers that 'Anton Boozinski, while crazed with ham an' eggs thried to kill his wife an' childher.' On Pathrick's day ye'll see th' Dr. Tanner Anti-Food Fife an' Drum corpse out at th' head iv th' procession instead iv th' Father Macchews, an' they'll be places where a man can be took whin he gets th' monkeys fr'm immodhrate eatin'. Th' sojers 'll complain that th' liquor was unfit to dhrink an' they'll be inquiries to find out who sold embammin' flood to th' ar-rmy--Poor people 'll have simple meals-- p'raps a bucket iv beer an' a little crame de mint, an' ye'll r-read in th' pa-apers about a family found starvin' on th' North side, with nawthin' to sustain life but wan small bottle iv gin, while th' head iv th' family, a man well known to the polis, spinds his wages in a low doggery or bakeshop fuddlin' his brains with custars pie. Th' r-rich 'll inthrajoose novelties. P'raps they'll top off a fine dinner with a little hasheesh or proosic acid. Th' time'll come whin ye'll see me in a white cap fryin' a cocktail over a cooksthove, while a nigger hollers to me: 'Dhraw a stack iv Scotch,' an' I holler back: 'On th' fire.' Ye will not."

"That's what I thought," said Mr. Hennessy.

"No," said Mr. Dooley. "Whisky wudden't be so much iv a luxury if'twas more iv a necissity. I don't believe 'tis a food, though whin me frind Schwartzmeister makes a cocktail all it needs is a few noodles to look like a biled dinner. No, whisky ain't food. I think betther iv it thin that. I wudden't insult it be placin' it on th' same low plane as a lobster salad. Father Kelly puts it r-right, and years go by without him lookin' on it even at Hallowe'en. 'Whisky,' says he, 'is called the divvle, because,' he says, ''tis wan iv the fallen angels,' he says. 'It has its place,' he says, 'but its place is not in a man's head,' says he. 'It ought to be th' reward iv action, not th' cause iv it,' he says. 'It's f'r th' end iv th' day, not th' beginnin',' he says. 'Hot whisky is good f'r a cold heart, an' no whisky's good f'r a hot head,' he says. 'Th' minyit a man relies on it f'r a crutch he loses th' use iv his legs. 'Tis a bad thing to stand on, a good thing to sleep on, a good thing to talk on, a bad thing to think on. If it's in th' head in th' mornin' it ought not to be in th' mouth at night. If it laughs in ye, dhrink; if it weeps, swear off. It makes some men talk like good women, an' some women talk like bad men. It is a livin' f'r orators an' th' death iv bookkeepers. It doesn't sustain life, but, whin taken hot with wather, a lump iv sugar, a piece iv lemon peel, and just th' dustin' iv a nutmeg-grater, it makes life sustainable."

"D'ye think ye-ersilf it sustains life"? asked Mr. Hennessy.

"It has sustained mine f'r many years," said Mr. Dooley.


HIGH FINANCE

"I think," said Mr. Dooley, "I'll go down to th' stock yards an' buy a dhrove iv Steel an' Wire stock."

"Where wud ye keep it?" asked the unsuspecting Hennessy.

"I'll put it out on th' vacant lot," said Mr. Dooley, "an' lave it grow fat by atin' ol' bur-rd cages an' tin cans. I'll milk it hard, an' whin 'tis dhry I'll dispose iv it to th' widdies an' orphans iv th' Sixth Ward that need household pets. Be hivins, if they give me half a chanst, I'll be as gr-reat a fi-nanceer as anny man in Wall sthreet.

"Th' reason I'm so confident iv th' value iv Steel an' Wire stock, Hinnissy, is they're goin' to hur-rl th' chairman iv th' comity into jail. That's what th' pa-apers calls a ray iv hope in th' clouds iv dipression that've covered th' market so long. 'Tis always a bull argymint. 'Snowplows common was up two pints this mornin' on th' rumor that th' prisidint was undher ar-rest.' 'They was a gr-reat bulge in Lobster preferred caused be th' report that instead iv declarin' a dividend iv three hundhred per cint. th' comp'ny was preparin' to imprison th' boord iv directors.' 'We sthrongly ricommind th' purchase iv Con and Founder. This comp'ny is in ixcillint condition since th' hangin' iv th' comity on reorganization.'"

"What's th' la-ad been doin', Hinnissy? He's been lettin' his frinds in on th' groun' flure--an' dhroppin' thim into th' cellar. Ye know Cassidy, over in th' Fifth, him that was in th' ligislachure? Well, sir, he was a gr-reat frind iv this man. They met down in Springfield whin th' la-ad had something he wanted to get through that wud protect th' widdies an' orphans iv th' counthry again their own avarice, an' he must've handed Cassidy a good argymint, f'r Cassidy voted f'r th' bill, though threatened with lynchin' be stockholders iv th' rival comp'ny. He come back here so covered with dimons that wan night whin he was standin' on th' rollin' mill dock, th' captain iv th' Eliza Brown