Mr. Dooley: In the Hearts of His Countrymen eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 221 pages of information about Mr. Dooley.

Mr. Dooley: In the Hearts of His Countrymen eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 221 pages of information about Mr. Dooley.

“Wirra, ’tis hard.  Ye’d sa-ay off hand, ’Why don’t they do as much for their own counthry?’ Light-spoken are thim that suggests th’ like iv that.  ’Tis asier said than done.  Ye can’t grow flowers in a granite block, Jawn dear, much less whin th’ first shoot ’d be thrampled under foot without pity.  ’Tis aisy f’r us over here, with our bellies full, to talk iv th’ cowardice iv th’ Irish; but what would ye have wan man iv thim do again a rig’mint?  ‘Tis little fightin’ th’ lad will want that will have to be up before sunrise to keep th’ smoke curlin’ fr’m th’ chimbley or to patch th’ rush roof to keep out th’ March rain.  No, faith, Jawn, there’s no soil in Ireland f’r th’ greatness iv th’ race; an’ there has been none since th’ wild geese wint across th’ say to France, hangin’ like flies to th’ side iv th’ Fr-rinch ship.  ’Tis only f’r women an’ childher now, an’ thim that can’t get away.  Will th’ good days ever come again? says ye.  Who knows!”

THE SERENADE.

“By dad, if it wasn’t f’r that there Molly Donahue,” said Mr. Dooley to Mr. McKenna, “half th’ life ’d be gone out iv Bridgeport.”  “What has Molly Donahue been doin’?” asked Mr. McKenna.

“She have been causin’ Felix Pindergasht to be sint to th’ Sisters iv Mercy Hospital with inflammathry rhoomatism.  Ye know Felix.  He is a musical janius.  Before he was tin year old he had me mind disthracted be playin’ wan iv thim little mouth organs on th’ corner near me bedroom window.  Thin he larned to play th’ ack-car-jeen, an’ cud swing it between his legs an’ give an imitation iv th’ cathedral bell that ’d make ye dig in ye’er pocket to see iv ye had a dime f’r a seat.  Thin he used to sit in his window in his shirt-sleeves, blowin’ ‘Th’ Vale iv Avoca’ on a cornet.  He was wan whole month before he cud get th’ ‘shall fade fr’m me heart’ right.  Half th’ neighborhood ’d be out on th’ sidewalk yellin’ ‘Lift it, Felix,—­lift an’ scatther it.  Shall fade fr’m me ha-a-rt,—­lift it, ye clumsy piper.’

“A few months back th’ stupid gawk begun to be attintive to Molly Donahue, an’, like th’ wild wan she is, she dhrew him on.  Did ye iver see th’ wan that wudden’t?  Faith, they’re all alike.  If it ain’t a sthraight stick, it’s a crooked wan; an’ th’ man was niver yet born, if he had a hump on his back as big as coal-scuttle an’ had a face like th’ back iv a hack, that cudden’t get th’ wink iv th’ eye fr’m some woman.  They’re all alike, all alike.  Not that I’ve annything again thim:  ‘tis thim that divides our sorrows an’ doubles our joys, an’ sews chiny buttons on our pa-ants an’ mends our shirts with blue yarn.  But they’ll lead a man to desthruction an’ back again, thim same women.

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Mr. Dooley: In the Hearts of His Countrymen from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.