Observations By Mr. Dooley eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 209 pages of information about Observations By Mr. Dooley.

“‘Th’ autymobill season has opened in deadly earnest.  Manny new machines is seen daily an’ wan iv th’ delights iv th’ summer colony is to go out iv an avenin’ an’ see th’ farmers iv th’ neighborhood pluckin’ their horses fr’m th’ top branches iv threes.  Th’ younger Hankerbilt has atthracted much attintion be his acc’rate ridin’.  Th’ other day he made a scoor iv eight fr’m a runnin’ start in tin minyits an’ this in spite iv th’ fact that he was obliged to come back to th’ last wan, a Swede named Olson, an’ bump him over again.

“‘Misther Graball, th’ Muskegon millionaire who got into s’ciety las’ year be dyin’ his hair green an’ givin’ a dinner at which all th’ guests rayceived a lumber mill as sooveneers, has returned suddenly fr’m th’ West an’ his house party is over.’

“’Little Aigrette Vandycooker has a tooth, her elder sister a markess, an’ her mother a siparation.’

“‘Misther an’ Mrs. Roger Smitherson an’ frind ar-re spindin’ th’ summer at frind’s house.’

“Gin’rally we lade a life iv quite an’ iligant luxury.  Wud ye like a line on me daily routine?  Well, in th’ mornin’ a little spin in me fifty-horse power ‘Suffer-little-childher,’ in th’ afthernoon a whirl over th’ green wathers iv th’ bay in me goold-an’-ivory yacht, in th’ avenin’ dinner with a monkey or something akelly as good, at night a few leads out iv th’ wrong hand, some hasty wurruds an’ so to bed.  Such is th’ spoortin’ life in Rhode Island, th’ home iv Roger Williams an’ others not so much.  It grows tiresome afther awhile.  I confess to ye, Algernon Hinnissy, that befure th’ monkey was inthrajooced, I was sufferin’ fr’m what Hogan calls onwee, which is th’ same thing as ingrowin’ money.  I had got tired iv puttin’ new storeys on me cottage an’ ridin’ up in th’ ilivator fr’m th’ settin’ room on th’ eighth flure to th’ dinin’ room on th’ twinty-ninth, I didn’t care about ayether thrap-shootin’ or autymobillin’, I felt like givin’ a cawrnation dinner to th’ poor iv th’ village an’ feedin’ thim me polo ponies, I didn’t care whether th’ champagne bar’ls was kept iced, whether th’ yacht was as long as th’ wan ownded be th’ Ginger Snap king nex’ dure, whether I had three or tin millyon dollars in me pants pocket in th’ mornin’ or whether th’ Poles in th’ coal mine was sthrikin’ f’r wan dollar an’ forty-siven or wan dollar an’ forty-eight cints a day.  I was tired iv ivrything.  Life had me be th’ throat, th’ black dog was on me back.  I felt like suicide or wurruk.  Thin come th’ bright idee iv me young frind an’ th’ monkey saved me.  He give me something to live f’r.  Perhaps we too may be monkeys some day an’ be amusin’.  We don’t talk half as loud or look half as foolish or get dhrunk half as quick, but give us a chanst.  We’re a young people an’ th’ monkeys is an old, old race.  They’ve been Newportin’ f’r cinchries.  Sure that ol’ la-ad who said man was descinded fr’m monkeys knew what he was talkin’ about.  Descinded, but how far?

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Observations By Mr. Dooley from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
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