Observations By Mr. Dooley - Part 10
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Part 10

his repartee with th' right is said to be very stingin'. He's inthrajooced th' sthrangle holt be means iv which th' debate can be suddenly cut off. He's me ideel leader.

"I want a leader who's got a good grip on public affairs an' men, who can take hold iv anny question or anny raypublican an' choke it or him till they're black in th' face. Bailey's th' boy. I followed Tillman f'r awhile, but he's gone back. He belongs to th' ol' school iv parlymintaryans, th' same that Jawn L. Sullivan belongs to. He's clever f'r an old 'un an' I'd be willin' to back him again anny raypublican in New England at catch-weights. His reply to Sinitor McLaurin was said to be wan iv th' quickest iver heerd since th' days iv Dan'l Webster. It laid open th' scalp.

But they tell me Tillman's speeches is not what Hogan calls impromptchu. He rehea.r.s.es thim ivry mornin' with a punchin'-bag.

Bailey is more iv a nachral debater. No holds barred with him.

Hand or fut, 'tis all th' same.

"What was it all about, says ye? Well, ye see this sinitor fr'm Injyanny, me frind Jeremiah Biv'ridge made a mos' insultin' remark to Misther Bailey. What did he say? I mustn't tell ye. No, no, 'tis too horrible. Well, if ye must hear it, close th' dure an'

pull down th' blinds. Whisper! There! There ye have it. I blush to raypeat th' wurruds. To think that anny man shud so demean himsilf as to imagine such a thing, lave alone say it. But he did--right out in th' Sinit befure Hinnery Cabin Lodge. Oh, it was turr'ble. Here it is in th' pa-apers: 'Misther Biv'ridge said th' st-t-m-nts iv th' hon'rable sinitor fr'm Texas was unw-r-nted.'

Modesty where was thy blush? as Shakespere says. Now, th' sinitors iv th' United States is not aisily shocked. That's not th' way ye get into th' Sinit. Th' bright blush iv shame hasn't been used there more thin twice since th' war. Ye can say almost annything ye like to a sinitor. Ye can say he wanst stole a horse, that he's livin' undher an a.s.sumed name, that he was made be a thrust, that his on'y nourishment is beets, or that he belongs to New York s'ciety, an' th' Sinit will on'y yawn. But wanst even hint that his such-an'-such is so-an'-so (I will not repeat th' heejous wurruds) an' ye mus' hurry an' slip on th' bra.s.s knuckles, f'r they'se a slap comin' to ye.

"Here's what happened: 'Sinitor Bailey stepped quickly over Sinitors h.o.a.r, Mason, Quay, an' others an' made f'r where Sinitor Biv'ridge was quitely smokin' a cigar an' talkin' to himsilf. Sinitor Bailey says: "Hon'rable sir, ye must withdraw that loathsome insinooation again' me good name," he says. "I have not led a pure life. No man has. I don't claim to be anny betther thin others. But no wan befure has iver said about me such things as these, an' if ye don't take thim back at wanst, I'll kill ye, I'll choke ye, I'll give ye a poke in th' eye," he says. "I cannot consint," says th'

bold sinitor fr'm Injyanny, "I cannot consint to haul back me epithet. It wud not be sinitoryal courtesy," he says. "Thin,"

says Sinitor Bailey, "here goes f'r an a.s.sault an' batthry." An'

with a gesture iv th' thrue orator, he seized him be th' throat.

Th' debate become gin'ral. Sinitor Spooner iv Wisconsin led f'r th' raypublicans an' Sinitor Morgan iv Alabama counthered f'r th'

dimmycrats. Sinitor Platt made a very happy retort with a chair, to which Sinitor Gorman replied with a sintintious cuspidor. Owin'

to th' excitin' nature iv th' debate on'y a few iv th' best remarks reached th' gall'ry, wan iv thim, a piece iv hard coal, layin' out a riprisintative iv th' Sultan iv Zulu. At th' hospital he declared himsilf much imprissed. Durin' th' proceedin's Biv'ridge acted in th' mos' gintlemanly an' even ladylike manner. His face wore a smile iv complete sang fraud or pain, an' he niver took his cigar fr'm his mouth wanst. Indeed, it was siv'ral hours befure th'

Havana cud be exthracted be th' surgeon who was called in. While th' debate was in progress, a pitcher iv Thomas Jefferson was obsarved to give a slight moan an' turn its face to th' wall. Th'

Sinit thin took up routine business an' th' janitor swept up th'

hair an' neckties. Sinitor Biv'ridge was not much hurt. Th'

tinder outside iv th' wind-pipe was somewhat bruised, but th'

wurrukin' inside is still intact.'

"'Twas a pretty scene, Hinnissy, an' wan that makes me proud iv Bailey f'r his courage in pouncin' on his collague; iv Biv'ridge f'r th' manly self resthraint an' rayspict f'r th' dignity iv th'

Sinit that par'lyzes a man's hands whin his wind is cut off; iv our n.o.ble counthry that projooces such st.u.r.dy sons, iv th' Sinit that brings thim together in a clinch an' iv mesilf because I wasn't there. I'm with Bailey. Bailey f'r prisidint! Bailey or bust or choke!

"I'm not sure that if I was in th' same place I'd do th' same thing. But I'm no statesman. Who am I to say that what wudden't be manners in a bar-room is not all right in th' Sinit? Diff'rent men has diff'rent raisons f'r fightin'. Ivry man will fight. Ye can bet on that. A brave man will fight because he is brave an'

a cow'rd because he is a cow'rd. All men will fight an' all men will run. Some will fight befure they'll run, but they'll run; some men will run befure they'll fight, but they'll fight. They'se a pretty good fight an' a pretty fast run in ivry man I know. Th'

debate in th' Sinit don't prove annything about th' merits iv ayether pug. In some other circ.u.mstances, Biv'ridge might have hunted Bailey up a three. It happened to be Bailey's day.

"As I get on in years, I believe less in fightin'. 'Tis a turr'ble thing to see th' aged an' infirm swingin' away at each other.

'Tis so unscientific. I hate to think iv a man with one leg in th' grave usin' th' other to thrip th' free foot iv a fellow aged.

I'm glad Bailey an' Biv'ridge ar-re young men. What a scandal if Sinitor Cullom an' Sinitor Morgan shud mix it up! Wan iv th' things a man larns as he grows old is to dislike fightin'. He dislikes annything he can't do as well as he cud. I'm that way. But I wasn't always so. No, sir. They was a time whin I'd fight at th'

dhrop iv a hat, f'r money or marbles or pool checks, f'r th' good name iv women or th' reva.r.s.e, f'r political principles or unprincipled politics, f'r th' gate receipts, f'r me relligion, f'r th' look iv th' thing, because th' barkeeper heard what he said, because he whispered to her, f'r th' sacred theery that th' buildin's is higher in Chicago thin in New York, f'r th' fun iv th' thing, an' f'r th'

Fight. That last's th' best iv all. A man that won't fight f'r th' fight itsilf is no rale fighter. I don't know what wud make me fight nowadays. I know lots iv things that wud make me want to fight, but I've larned to repress me desires. Me heart is full iv song but I've lost me voice. In me dhreams I'm always punchin'

somebody's head. I shall niver f'rget th' night whin I put Jeffries out iv th' business with wan well-directed punch an' me in me bare feet, too. I can niver f'rget it f'r I fell out iv bed and b.u.mped me head again' th' rocker iv a chair. But in me wakin' hours, I'm a man iv vi'lent impulses an' peaceful raysults. In a fight I'd be like a deef-mute in a debatin' s'ciety. But as I said, Hinnissy, they was a day whin th' lightest wurrud was an insult. Nowadays I say to mesilf: 'Considher th' soorce. How can such a low blaggard as that insult me? Jus' because some dhrunken wretch chooses to apply a foul epitaph to me, am I goin' to dignify him be knockin'

him down in th' public sthreet an' p'raps not, an' gettin' th'

head beat off me? No, sir. I will raymimber me position in th'

community. I will pa.s.s on with a smile iv bitter contempt. Maybe I'd betther run a little.'

"Th' las' throuble I got into I begun to think iv th' new suit I had on an' I knew me warryor days was over. Whin a man raymimbers his clothes or his appearance in battle, 'tis high time f'r him to retire fr'm th' ring. Th' ca'm, almost deathlike smile that rests upon a man's face whin another man is cloutin' him about is on'y th' outward exprission iv something about two numbers up th'

chest fr'm sea sickness. That's all I've got to say about fightin'.

Ye can't lay down anny rules about it."

"Ye niver will go to th' Sinit with thim views," said Mr. Hennessy.

"I don't want to," said Mr. Dooley. "Some day th' Sinit will be pulled."

Home Life of Geniuses

"A woman ought to be careful who she marries," said Mr. Dooley.

"So ought a man," said Mr. Hennessy, with feeling.

"It don't make so much diff'rence about him," said Mr. Dooley.

"Whin a man's marrid, he's a marrid man. That's all ye can say about him. Iv coorse, he thinks marredge is goin' to change th'

whole current iv his bein', as Hogan says. But it doesn't. Afther he's been hooked up f'r a few months, he finds he was marrid befure, even if he wasn't, which is often th' case, d'ye mind. Th' first bride iv his bosom was th' Day's Wurruk, an' it can't be put off.

They'se no groun's f'r dissolvin' that marredge, Hinnissy. Ye can't say to th' Day's Wurruk: 'Here, take this bunch iv alimony an' go on th' stage.' It turns up at breakfast about th' fourth month afther th' weddin' an' creates a scandal. Th' unforchnit man thries to shoo it off but it fixes him with its eye an' hauls him away fr'm the bacon an' eggs, while the lady opposite weeps and wondhers what he can see in annything so old an' homely. It says, 'Come with me, aroon,' an' he goes. An' afther that he spinds most iv his time an' often a good deal iv his money with th' enchantress. I tell ye what, Hinnissy, th' Day's Wurruk has broke up more happy homes thin comic opry. If th' coorts wud allow it, manny a woman cud get a divorce on th' groun's that her husband cared more f'r his Day's Wurruk thin he did f'r her.

'Hinnissy varsus Hinnissy; corryspondint, th' Day's Wurruk.' They'd be ividince that th' defindant was seen ridin' in a cab with th'

corryspondint, that he took it to a picnic, that he wint to th'

theaytre with it, that he talked about it in his sleep, an' that, lost to all sinse iv shame, he even escoorted it home with him an'

inthrajooced it to his varchoos wife an' innocint childher. So it don't make much diff'rence who a man marries. If he has a job, he's safe.

"But with a woman 'tis diff'rent. Th' man puts down on'y part iv th' bet. Whin he's had enough iv th' convarsation that in Union Park undher th' threes med him think he was talkin' with an intellechool joyntess, all he has to do is to put on his coat, grab up his dinner pail an' go down to th' shops, to be happy though marrid. But a woman, I tell ye, bets all she has. A man don't have to marry but a woman does. Ol' maids an' clargymen do th' most good in th' wurruld an' we love thim f'r th' good they do. But people, especially women, don't want to be loved that way. They want to be loved because people can't help lovin' thim no matther how bad they are. Th' story books that ye give ye'er daughter Honoria all tell her 'tis just as good not to be marrid.

She reads about how kind Dorothy was to Lulu's childher an' she knows Dorothy was th' betther woman, but she wants to be Lulu.

Her heart, an' a cold look in th' eye iv th' wurruld an' her Ma tell her to hurry up. Arly in life she looks f'r th' man iv her choice in th' tennis records; later she reads th' news fr'm th'

militia encampmint; thin she studies th' socyal raygisther; further on she makes hersilf familyar with Bradsthreets' rayports, an'

fin'lly she watches th' place where life presarvers are hangin'.

"Now, what kind iv a man ought a woman to marry? She oughtn't to marry a young man because she'll grow old quicker thin he will; she oughtn't to marry an old man because he'll be much older befure he's younger; she oughtn't to marry a poor man because he may become rich an' lose her; she oughtn't to marry a rich man because if he becomes poor, she can't lose him; she oughtn't to marry a man that knows more thin she does, because he'll niver fail to show it, an' she oughtn't to marry a man that knows less because he may niver catch up. But above all things she mustn't marry a janius. A flure-walker, perhaps; a janius niver.

"I tell ye this because I've been r-readin' a book Hogan give me, about th' divvle's own time a janius had with his fam'ly. A cap iv industhry may have throuble in his fam'ly till there isn't a whole piece iv chiny in th' cupboard, an' no wan will be the wiser f'r it but th' hired girl an' th' doctor that paints th'

black eye. But ivrybody knows what happens in a janius' house.

Th' janius always tells th' bartinder. Besides he has other janiuses callin' on him, an' 'tis th' business iv a janius to write about th' domestic throubles iv other janiuses so posterity'll know what a hard thing it is to be a janius. I've been readin'

this book iv Hogan's an' as I tell ye, 'tis about th' misery a wretched woman inflicted on a pote's life.

"'Our hayro,' says th' author,' at this peeryod conthracted an unforchnit alliance that was destined to cast a deep gloom over his career. At th' age iv fifty, afther a life devoted to th'

pursoot iv such gayety as janiuses have always found niciss'ry to solace their avenin's, he marrid a young an' beautiful girl some thirty-two years his junior. This wretched crather had no appreciation iv lithrachoor or lithry men. She was frivolous an'

light-minded an' ividintly considhered that nawthin' was rally lithrachoor that cudden't be thranslated into groceries. Niver shall I f'rget th' expression iv despair on th' face iv this G.o.dlike man as he came into Casey's saloon wan starry July avenin' an'

staggered into his familyar seat, holdin' in his hand a bit iv soiled paper which he tore into fragmints an' hurled into th' coal scuttle. On that crumpled parchmint findin' a sombre grave among th' disinterred relics iv an age long past, to wit, th' cariboniferious or coal age, was written th' iver-mim'rable pome: "Ode to Gin."

Our frind had scribbled it hastily at th' dinner iv th'

Betther-thin-Shakespere Club, an' had attimpted to read it to his wife through th' keyhole iv her bedroom dure an' met no response fr'm th' fillystein but a pitcher iv wather through th' thransom.

Forchnitly he had presarved a copy on his cuff an' th' gem was not lost to posterity. But such was th' home life iv wan iv th'

gr-reatest iv lithry masters, a man indowed be nachure with all that shud make a woman adore him as is proved be his tindher va.r.s.es: 'To Carrie,' 'To Maude,' 'To Flossie,' 'To Angehel,' 'To Queenie,' an' so foorth. De Bonipoort in his cillybrated 'Mimores,'

in which he tells ivrything unpleasant he see or heerd in his frinds' houses, gives a sthrikin' pitcher iv a scene that happened befure his eyes. 'Afther a few basins iv absceenthe in th' reev gosh,' says he, 'Parna.s.sy invited us home to dinner. Sivral iv th' b.u.m vivonts was hard to wake up, but fin'lly we arrived at th'

handsome cellar where our gr-reat frind had installed his unworthy fam'ly. Ivrything pinted to th' admirable taste iv th' thrue artist. Th' tub, th' washboard, th' biler singin' on th' fire, th' neighbor's washin' dancin' on the clothes rack, were all in keepin' with th' best ideels iv what a pote's home shud be. Th'

wife, a faded but still pretty woman, welcomed us more or less, an' with th' a.s.sistance iv sivral bottles iv paint we had brought with us, we was soon launched on a feast iv raison an' a flow iv soul. Unhappily befure th' raypast was con-cluded a mis'rable scene took place. Amid cries iv approval, Parna.s.sy read his mim'rable pome int.i.tled: 'I wisht I nivir got marrid.' Afther finishin' in a perfect roar of applause, he happened to look up an' see his wife callously rockin' th' baby. With th' impetchosity so charackteristic iv th' man, he broke a soup plate over her head an' burst into tears on th' flure, where gentle sleep soon soothed th' pangs iv a weary heart. We left as quitely as we cud, considherin' th' way th' chairs was placed, an' wanst undher th'

stars comminted on th' ir'ny iv fate that condimned so great a man to so milancholy a distiny.

"'This,' says our author, 'was th' daily life iv th' hayro f'r tin years. In what purgatory will that infamous woman suffer if Hiven thinks as much iv janiuses as we think iv oursilves. Forchnitly th' pote was soon to be marcifully relieved. He left her an' she marrid a boorjawce with whom she led a life iv coa.r.s.e happiness.

It is sad to relate that some years aftherward th' great pote, havin' called to make a short touch on th' woman f'r whom he had sacryficed so much, was unfeelingly kicked out iv th' boorjawce's plumbin' shop.'

"So, ye see, Hinnissy, why a woman oughtn't to marry a janius.

She can't be cross or peevish or angry or jealous or frivolous or annything else a woman ought to be at times f'r fear it will get into th' ditchn'ry iv bio-graphy, an' she'll go down to histhry as a termygant. A termygant, Hinnissy, is a woman who's heerd talkin' to her husband after they've been marrid a year. Hogan says all janiuses was unhappily marrid. I guess that's thrue iv their wives, too. He says if ye hear iv a pote who got on with his fam'ly, scratch him fr'm ye'er public lib'ry list. An' there ye ar-re."