Humor
Read books online » Humor » Mr. Dooley's Philosophy by Finley Peter Dunne (parable of the sower read online TXT) 📖

Book online «Mr. Dooley's Philosophy by Finley Peter Dunne (parable of the sower read online TXT) 📖». Author Finley Peter Dunne



1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 ... 37
Go to page:
with siveral iv our own,' he says. 'Th' Irish rig'mints,' he says, 'th' Kerry Rifles, th' Land Leaguers' Own, an' th' Dublin Pets, commanded be th' Pop'lar Irish sojer Gin'ral Sir Ponsonby Tompkins wint into battle singin' their well-known naytional anthem: “Mrs. Innery Awkins is a fust-class name!” Th' Boers retreated,' he says, 'pursued be th' Davitt Terrors who cut their way through th' fugitives with awful slaughter,' he says. 'They have now,' he says, 'pinethrated as far us Pretoria,' he says, 'th' officers arrivin' in first-class carredges an' th' men in thrucks,' he says, 'an' ar-re camped in th' bettin' shed where they ar-re afforded ivry attintion be th' vanquished inimy,' he says. 'As f'r us,' he says, 'we decided afther th' victhry to light out f'r Ladysmith.' he says, 'Th' inimy had similar intintions,' he says, 'but their skill has been vastly overrated,' he says. 'We bate thim,' he says 'we bate thim be thirty miles,' he says. That's where we're sthrong, Hinnissy. We may get licked on th' battle field, we may be climbin' threes in th' Ph'lippeens with arrows stickin' in us like quills, as Hogan says, into th' fretful porcupine or we may be doin' a mile in five minyits flat down th' pike that leads to Cape Town pursued be th' less fleet but more ignorant Boers peltin' us with guns full iv goold an' bibles, but in th' pages iv histhry that our childhren read we niver turned back on e'er an inimy. We make our own gloryous pages on th' battlefield, in th' camp an' in th' cab'net meetin'.”

“Well, 't is all r-right f'r ye to be jokin',” said Mr. Hennessy, “but there's manny a brave fellow down there that it's no joke to.”

“Thrue f'r ye,” said Mr. Dooley, “an' that's why I wisht it cud be fixed up so's th' men that starts th' wars could do th' fightin'. Th' throuble is that all th' prelimin'ries is arranged be matchmakers an' all they'se left f'r fighters is to do th' murdherin'. A man's got a good job at home an' he wants to make it sthronger. How can he do it? Be throwin' out some one that's got an akelly good job down th' sthreet. Now he don't go over as I wud an' say, 'Here Schwartzmeister (or Kruger as th' case may be) I don't like ye'er appearance, ye made a monkey iv me in argymint befure th' neighborhood an' if ye continyue in business ye'll hurt me thrade, so here goes to move ye into th' sthreet!' Not that la-ad. He gets a crowd around him an' says he: 'Kruger (or Schwartzmeister as th' case may be) is no good. To begin with he's a Dutchman. If that ain't enough he's a cantin', hymn singin' murdhrous wretch that wuddent lave wan iv our counthrymen ate a square meal if he had his way. I'll give ye all two dollars a week if ye'll go over an' desthroy him.' An' th' other la-ad, what does he do? He calls in th' neighbors an' says he: 'Dooley is sindin' down a gang iv savages to murdher me. Do ye lave ye'er wurruk an' ye'er families an' rally ar-round me an' where ye see me plug hat wave do ye go in th' other direction,' he says, 'an' slay th' brutal inimy,' he says. An' off goes th' sojers an' they meet a lot iv la-ads that looks like thimsilves an' makes sounds that's more or less human an' ates out iv plates an' they swap smokin' tobacco an' sings songs together an' th' next day they're up early jabbing holes in each other with baynits. An' whin its all over they'se me an' Chamberlain at home victoryous an' Kruger an' Schwartzmeister at home akelly victoryous. An' they make me prime minister or aldherman but whin I want a man to put in me coal I don't take wan with a wooden leg.

“I'll niver go down again to see sojers off to th' war. But ye'll see me at th' depot with a brass band whin th' men that causes wars starts f'r th' scene iv carnage. Whin Congress goes forth to th' sun-kissed an' rain jooled isles iv th' Passyfic no more heartier cheer will be beard thin th' wan or two that rises fr'm th' bosom iv Martin Dooley. Says I, give thim th' chanst to make histhry an' lave th' young men come home an' make car wheels. If Chamberlain likes war so much 'tis him that ought to be down there in South Africa peltin' over th' road with ol' Kruger chasin' him with a hoe. Th' man that likes fightin' ought to be willin' to turn in an' spell his fellow-counthrymen himsilf. An' I'd even go this far an' say that if Mack wants to subjoo th' dam Ph'lippeens——”

“Ye're a thraitor,” said Mr. Hennessy.

“I know it,” said Mr. Dooley, complacently.

“Ye're an anti-expansionist.”

“If ye say that again,” cried Mr. Dooley, angrily, “I'll smash in ye'er head.”







UNDERESTIMATING THE ENEMY

“What d'ye think iv th' war?” Mr. Hennessy asked.

“I think I want to go out an' apologize to Shafter,” said Mr. Dooley.

“I'm like ivrybody else, be hivins, I thought war was like shootin' glass balls. I niver thought iv th' glass balls thrainin' a dinnymite gun on me. 'Tis a thrait iv us Anglo-Saxons that we look on an inimy as a target. If ye hit him ye get three good see-gars. We're like people that dhreams iv fights. In me dhreams I niver lost wan fight. A man I niver saw befure comes up an' says something mane to me, that I can't raymimber, an' I climb into him an' 'tis all over in a minyit. He niver hits me, or if he does I don't feel it. I put him on his back an' bate him to death. An' thin I help mesilf to his watch an' chain an' me frinds come down an' say, 'Martin, ye haven't a scratch,' an' con-grathlate me, an' I wandher ar-roun' th' sthreets with a chip on me shoulder till I look down an' see that I haven't a stitch on me but a short shirt. An' thin I wake up. Th' list iv knock-outs to me credit in dhreams wud make Fitzsimmons feel poor. But ne'er a wan iv thim was printed in th' pa-apers.”

“'Tis so with me frinds, th' hands acrost th' sea. They wint to sleep an' had a dhream. An' says they: 'We will sind down to South Africa thim gallant throops that have won so manny hard-fought reviews,' they says, 'captained,' they says, 'be th' flower iv our aristocracy,' they says. 'An' whin th' Boers come out ar-rmed with rollin' pins an' bibles,' they says, 'We'll just go at thim,' they says, 'an' walk through thim an' that night we'll have a cotillyon at Pretoria to which all frinds is invited,' they says. An' so they deposit their intellects in th' bank at home, an' th' absent-minded beggars goes out in thransports iv pathreetism an' pothry. An' they'se a meetin' iv th' cabinet an' 'tis decided that as th' war will on'y las' wan week 'twill be well f'r to begin renamin' th' cities iv th' Thransvaal afther pop'lar English statesmen—Joechamberlainville an' Rhodesdorp an' Beitfontein. F'r they have put their hands to th' plough an' th' sponge is squeezed dhry, an' th' sands iv th' glass have r-run out an' th' account is wiped clean.”

“An' what's th' Boer doin' all this time? What's me frind th' Boer doin'. Not sleepin', Hinnissy, mind ye. He hasn't anny dhreams iv conquest. But whin a man with long whiskers comes r-ridin' up th' r-road an' says: 'Jan Schmidt or Pat O'Toole or whativer his name is, ye're wanted at th' front,' he goes home

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 ... 37
Go to page:

Free ebook «Mr. Dooley's Philosophy by Finley Peter Dunne (parable of the sower read online TXT) 📖» - read online now

Comments (0)

There are no comments yet. You can be the first!
Add a comment