Observations By Mr. Dooley, Finley Peter Dunne [ebook voice reader .TXT] 📗

too. Di-plomacy has become a philanthropic pursoot like shop-keepin', but politics, me lords, is still th' same ol' spoort iv highway robb'ry. But I done what I cud to protict th' intherests iv th' mother, father an' brother-in-law counthry, an' between you an' me if I don't desarve th' Victorya cross f'r presintin' that threaty to th' Sinit nobody does. I will on'y say that hinceforth th' policy iv this gover'mint will be as befure not to bully a sthrong power or wrong a weak, but will remain thrue to th' principle iv wrongin' th' sthrong an' bullyin' th' weak.'

"Th' sicrety iv state was followed be th' ambassadure. 'I wish to tell ye,' said he, 'what a good time I had in England. Befure I wint there I was sthrongly prejudiced again' England. I thought it was th' noblest counthry on which, as Dan'l Webster says, th' sun niver set without hatchin' out a new colony. But I did it a great injustice. It is betther thin what I thought. It does not care f'r chaff or gush such as goes down in this counthry. All an English gintleman demands is that ye shall be ye'ersilf, frank, manly an' sincere. A little cry on th' shouldher, a firm grasp iv th' hand, a brief acknowledgment that we owe our language an' are payin' it back, our lithrachoor an' our boots to him, an' his heart opens. He cannot conceal his admiration f'r ye. He goes away. Ah, niver will I f'rget th' day I peeked out iv me bed-room window at Windsor Castle an' see manny iv th' sturdy lielists here befure me bein' received in th' back yard be th' king. I mind well th' wurruds that fell fr'm his lips whin ye left to take lunch in th' rile woodshed. "Chote," he says, "thim were a fine lot iv Americans," he says. "What thribe did ye say they belonged to? Soos?" he says.'

"So th' avenin' proceeded until it was time to go home, whin th' chairman proposed th' customary toast. 'Me lords an' gintlemen, charge ye'er glasses an' jine me in a toast,' he says. 'His majesty Edward th' Sivinth, iv Gr-reat Britain an' possibly Ireland, iv Inja, Egypt, iv Austhralya, iv South Africa in a sinse, an' iv th' Dominions beyant th' sea, includin' New York, King, Definder iv th' Faith. I hope I got it all in.' 'Ye did,' said th' ambassadure. An' th' toast was dhrunk with enthusyasm. Other toasts was dhrunk to th' rile fam'ly an' th' Protestant Succession, to th' Jook iv Argyle who used to own Andhrew Carnaygie, an' in manny cases th' rile merchants carrid th' glasses away in their pockets. Jus' as th' comp'ny was breakin' up a man whose gaiters creaked rose an' said: 'Isn't there wan more toast?' 'Good hivins have I f'rgotten somewan?' said Lord Cheeseshop. 'That was all there was in th' book. Who d'ye mane?' he says. 'I mane th' prisidint iv th' United States,' says th' man, who comes fr'm Baraboo. 'Oh him,' says th' chairman in a relieved tone. 'Well, annywan that wants to can dhrink his health at th' bar,' he says.

"As th' comp'ny filed out a band was playin' in th' adjinin' room where they was a meetin' iv th' Amalgamated Stove-polish men fr'm th' neighborhood iv Terry Hut. 'What's that outlandish chune?' says Lord Cheeseshop. ''Tis th' naytional air, west iv Hoboken,' says th' man fr'm Baraboo. 'What's it called?' says Lord Cheeseshop. 'Th' Star Spangled Banner,' says th' man. 'Well,' says Lord Cheeseshop, ''tis very intherestin',' he says. ''Tis th' on'y Indyan music I iver heerd,' he says."

"Ah well," said Mr. Hennessy, "who cares?"

"Faith I think ye're right," said Mr. Dooley. "A man will swallow annything with a dinner. What is good f'r what Hogan calls th' iliminthry canal has nawthin' to do with th' Nicaragoon Canal an' I'd be more afraid iv Lord Cheeseshop if he thought th' toast an' didn't say it. Our Anglo-Saxon relations is always a give-away—on some wan."

Art Patronage

"I see in this pa-aper," said Mr. Dooley, "they'se a fellow kickin' because an American painther ain't got anny chanst again' foreign compytition."

"Sure," said Mr. Hennessy; "he's aisy displazed. I niver knew th' business to be betther. Wages is high an' 'tis a comfortable thrade barrin' colic."

"I don't mane that kind iv painthers," said Mr. Dooley. "I don't mane th' wans that paint ye'er barn, but th' wans that paints a pitcher iv ye'er barn an' wants to sell it to ye f'r more thin th' barn is worth. This man says no matther how industhrees an American painther is, no matther if he puts on his overalls arly in th' mornin' an' goes out with a laddher an' whales away all day long, he can hardly arn a livin', while th' pauper artists iv Europe is fairly rowlin' in th' lap iv luxury. Manny a la-ad that started in life with th' intintion iv makin' th' wurruld f'rget that what's his name—Hogan's frind—ye know who I mane—Michael Angelo—ever lived, is now glad to get a job decoratin' mountain scenery with th' latest news about th' little liver pills.

"Ye see, Hinnissy, whin a man gets hold iv a large hatful iv money, wan iv th' first things he does is to buy some art. Up to th' time whin th' top blew off th' stock market, he bought his art out iv th' front window iv a news an' station'ry shop or had it put in be th' paperhanger. He took th' Sundah pa-apers that ar-re a gr-reat help if ye're collectin' art, an' he had some pitchers iv fruit that looks nachral enough to ate, d'ye mind, a paintin' iv a deer like th' wan he shot at in th' Manotowish counthry in Eighty-eight, an' a livin' likeness iv a Lake Supeeryor white fish on a silver plate. That was th' peeryod, mind ye, whin th' iron dogs howled on his lawn an' people come miles an' miles f'r to see a grotto made out iv relics iv th' Chicago fire.

"Manetime his daughter was illustratin' suspinders an' illuminatin' china plates an' becomin' artistic, an' afther awhile whin th' time come that he had to keep a man at th' dure to sweep out th' small bills, she give him a good push to'rd betther things. Besides, his pardner down th' sthreet had begun collectin' pitchers, an' ivry time he wint abroad th' mannyfacthrers iv pitcher frames bought new autymobills f'r th' Champs All Easy. So 'twas a soft matther f'r our frind Higbie to be persuaded that he ought to be a pathron iv art, an' he wint abroad detarmined to buy a bunch iv chromos that'd make people come out iv th' gallery iv his pardner down th' sthreet stiflin' their laughter in their hands.

"Now ye'd think seein' that he made his money in this counthry, he'd pathronize American art. Ye'd believe he'd sind wurrud down to his agent f'r to secure forty feet iv Evansville be moonlight an' be con-tint. But he don't.

"Ye don't catch Higbie changin' iv anny iv his dividends on domestic finished art. He jumps on a boat an' goes sthraight acrost to th' centhral deepo. The first thing he gets is a porthrait iv himsilf be wan iv th' gr-reat modhren masthers, Sargent be name. This here Sargent, Hogan tells me, used to live in this counthry, an' faith, if he'd stayed here ye might see him to-day on a stagin'. But he had a mind in his head an' he tore off f'r Europe th' way a duck hunter goes f'r a rice swamp. Afther awhile, Higbie shows up, an' says he: 'I'm Higbie iv th' Non-Adhesive Consolidated Glue Company,' he says. 'Can ye do me?' 'I can an' will,' says Sargent. 'I'll do ye good. How much have ye got?' he says. 'Get some more an' come around,' he says. An' Higbie puts on his Prince Albert coat an' laves it open so that ye can see his watch charm—th' crown iv Poland with th' Kohinoor in th' top iv it—an' me frind Sargent does him brown an' red. He don't give him th' pitcher iv coorse. If ye have ye'er porthrait painted be a gr-reat painther, it's ye'er porthrait but 'tis his pitcher, an' he keeps it till ye don't look that way anny more. So Higbie's porthrait is hung up in a gallery an' th' doctors brings people to see it that ar-re sufferin' fr'm narvous dyspepsia to cheer thim up. Th' pa-apers says 'tis fine. 'Number 108 shows Sargent at his best. There is the same marvellous ticknick that th' great master displayed in his cillybrated take-off on Mrs. Maenheimer in last year's gallery. Th' skill an' ease with which th' painther has made a monkey iv his victim are beyond praise. Sargent has torn th' sordid heart out iv th' wretched crather an' exposed it to th' wurruld. Th' wicked, ugly little eyes, th' crooked nose, th' huge graspin' hands, tell th' story iv this miscreant's character as completely as if they were written in so manny wurruds, while th' artist, with wondherful malice, has painted onto th' face a smile iv sickenin' silf-complacency that is positively disgustin'. No artist iv our day has succeeded so well in showin' up th' maneness iv th' people he has mugged. We ondershtand that th' atrocious Higbie paid wan hundherd thousan' dollars f'r this comic valentine. It is worth th' money to ivrybody but him.'

"But Higbie don't see th' pa-aper. He's over in Paris. Th' chimes are rung, bonefires are lighted in th' sthreets an' th' Pannyma Comp'ny declares a dividend whin he enters th' city. They'se such a demand f'r paint that th' supply runs out an' manny gr-reat imprishonist pitcher facthries is foorced to use bluein'. Higbie ordhers paintin's be th' ton, th' r-runnin' foot, th' foot pound, th' car load. He insthructs th' pitcher facthries to wurruk night an' day till his artistic sowl is satisfied. We follow his coorse in th' pa-apers. 'Th' cillybrated Gainsborough that niver wud be missed has been captured be Misther Higbie, th' American millyionaire. Th' price paid is said to be wan hundherd thousan' dollars. Th' pitcher riprisints a lady in a large hat fondlin' a cow. It is wan iv th' finest Gainsboroughs painted be th' Gainsborough Mannyfacthrin' comp'ny iv Manchester. At th' las' public sale, it was sold f'r thirty dollars. Misther Higbie has also purchased th' cillybrated Schmartzmeister Boogooroo, wan iv th' mos' horrible examples iv this delightful painther's style. He is now negotyatin' with th' well-known dealer Moosoo Mortheimer f'r th' intire output iv th' Barabazah School. Yisterdah in a call on th' janial dealer, th' name iv th' cillybrated painther Mooney was mintioned. "How manny pitchers has he painted?" "Four hundherd and forty-three thousan' at ilivin o'clock to-day," says th' dealer. "But four hundherd thousan' iv thim ar-re in America." "Get th' r-rest iv thim f'r me," says th' connysoor. "What did ye say th' gintleman's name was?" We ondershtand that Misther Mooney has had to put in two new four-deck machines to meet th' ordhers, which include thirty green an' mauve haystacks, forty blue barns or childher at play, an' no less thin ninety riprisintations iv mornin' at sea, moonlight avenin', flock iv sheep, or whativer ye may call thim.'

"An' whin he comes home, he hangs thim in his house, so that his frinds can't turn around without takin' off a pasthral scene on their coats, an' he pastes th' price on th' frame, an' whin he dies, he laves his pitcher to some definceless art museem. An' there ye ar-re.

"So I tell ye, Hinnissy, if I was a young an' ambitious American painther, I'd go to Europe. Whin Hannigan was over there, he met a young man that painted that fine head iv Murphy that looks so much like Casey that hangs in Schwartzmeister's back room. 'Ar-re ye still at th' art?' says Hannigan. 'I am,' says th' young man. 'How does it go?' asks Hannigan. 'I've more thin I can do,' says th' young man. 'Since steel rails got so high, I've had to hire an assistant. Ye see, I didn't get on in Chicago. Me "Bridgepoort in a Fog" was th' on'y pitcher I sold, an' a sausage mannyfacthrer bought that because his facthry was in it. I come over here, an' so's