th’ other quarther iv th’ pa-aper.  Ye read about people ye niver heerd iv, an’ happenin’s ye didn’t undhersthand—­th’ fashion notes, th’ theatrical gossip, th’ s’ciety news fr’m Peoria, th’ quotations on oats, th’ curb market, th’ rale-estate transfers, th’ marredge licenses, th’ death notices, th’ want ads., th’ dhrygoods bargains, an’ even th’ iditoryals.  Thin ye r-read thim over again, with a faint idee ye’d read thim befure.  Thin ye yawned, studied th’ design iv th’ carpet, an’ settled down to wurruk.  Was ye exercisin’ ye-er joynt intelleck while ye was readin’?  No more thin if ye’d been whistlin’ or writin’ ye-er name on a pa-aper.  If anny wan else but me come along they might say:  ’What a mind Hinnissy has!  He’s always readin’.’  But I wud kick th’ book or pa-aper out iv ye-er hand, an’ grab ye be th’ collar, an’ cry ‘Up, Hinnissy, an’ to wurruk!’ f’r I’d know ye were loafin’.  Believe me, Hinnissy, readin’ is not thinkin’.  It seems like it, an’ whin it comes out in talk sometimes, it sounds like it.  It’s a kind iv nearthought that looks ginooine to th’ thoughtless, but ye can’t get annything on it.  Manny a man I’ve knowed has so doped himsilf with books that he’d stumble over a carpet-tack.

“Am I again’ all books, says ye?  I’m not.  If I had money, I’d have all th’ good lithrachoor iv th’ wurruld on me table at this minyit.  I mightn’t read it, but there it’d be so that anny iv me frinds cud dhrop in an’ help thimsilves if they didn’t care f’r other stimylants.  I have no taste f’r readin’, but I won’t deny it’s a good thing f’r thim that’s addicted to it.  In modheration, mind ye.  In modheration, an’ afther th’ chores is done.  F’r as a frind iv Hogan’s says, ‘Much readin’ makes a full man,’ an’ he knew what he was talkin’ about.  An’ do I object to th’ pursuit iv lithrachoor?  Oh, faith, no.  As a pursuit ’tis fine, but it may be bad f’r anny wan that catches it.”

The Law’s Delays

“If I had me job to pick out,” said Mr. Dooley, “I’d be a judge.  I’ve looked over all th’ others an’ that’s th’ on’y wan that suits.  I have th’ judicyal timperamint.  I hate wurruk.

“Ivrybody else is pushed an’ hurrid in this tumulchuse age.  Th’ business man has to get to th’ bank befure it closes an’ th’ banker has to get there befure th’ business man escapes, an’ th’ high-priced actor has to kill off more gradyates iv th’ school iv actin’ thin iver he did, an’ th’ night editions iv th’ pa-apers comes out arlier ivry mornin’.  All is rush an’ worry.  Kings an’ imprors duck about their jooties like bell-hops, th’ pampered son iv luxury at Newport is thryin’ f’r a mile a minyit in his autymobill an’ th’ on’y leisure class left in th’ wurruld is th’ judicyary.  Mind ye, Hinnissy, I’m not sayin’ annything again’ thim.  I won’t dhrag th’ joodicyal ermine in th’ mud though I haven’t noticed that manny iv thim lift it immodestly whin they takes th’ pollytical crossing.  I have th’ high rayspict f’r th’ job that’s th’ alternative iv sixty days in jail.  Besides, me boy, I invy thim.