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

are loaded like a docthor's bag an' have all kinds iv things in thim that won't do a bit iv good to man or beast. If a sojer has a weak back there's something in th' shell that removes a weak back; if his head throubles him, he can lose it; if th' odher iv vilets is distasteful to him th' shell smothers him in vilet powdher. They have guns that anny boy or girl who knows th' typewriter can wurruk, an' they have other guns on th' music box plan, that ye wind up an' go away an' lave, an' they annoy anny wan that comes along. They have guns that bounces up out iv a hole in th' groun', fires a millyon shells a minyit an' dhrops back f'r another load. They have guns that fire dinnymite an' guns that fire th' hateful, sickly green lyddite that makes th' inimy look like fiat money, an' guns that fire canned beef f'r th' inimy an' distimper powdher for th' inimy's horses. An' they have some guns that shoot straight.”

“Well, thin,” Mr. Hennessy grumbled, “it's a wondher to me that with all thim things they ain't more people kilt. Sure, Gin'ral Grant lost more men in wan day thin th' British have lost in four months, an' all he had to keep tab on was ol' fashioned bullets an' big, bouncin' iron balls.”

“Thrue,” said Mr. Dooley. “I don't know th' reason, but it mus' be that th' betther gun a man has th' more he thrusts th' gun an' th' less he thrusts himsilf. He stays away an' shoots. He says to himsilf, he says: 'They'se nawthin' f'r me to do,' he says, 'but load up me little lyddite cannon with th' green goods,' he says, 'an' set here at the organ,' he says, 'pull out th' stops an' paint th' town iv Pretoria green,' he says. 'But,' he says, 'on sicond thought, suppose th' inimy shud hand it back to me,' he says. 'Twud be oncomfortable,' he says. 'So,' he says, 'I'll jus' move me music back a mile,' he says, 'an' peg away, an' th' longest gun takes th' persimmons,' he says. 'Tis this way: If ye an' I fall out an' take rifles to each other, 'tis tin to wan nayether iv us gets clost enough to hit. If we take pistols th' odds is rayjooced. If we take swords I may get a hack at ye, but if we take a half-nelson lock 'tis even money I have ye'er back broke befure th' polis comes.”

“I can see in me mind th' day whin explosives'll be so explosive an' guns'll shoot so far that on'y th' folks that stay at home'll be kilt, an' life insurance agents'll be advisin' people to go into th' ar-rmy. I can so. 'Tis thrue what Hogan says about it.”

“What's that?” Mr. Hennessy asked.

“Th' nation,” said Mr. Dooley, “that fights with a couplin' pin extinds its bordhers at th' cost iv th' nation that fights with a clothes pole.”

“Well, sir,” said Mr. Dooley, “tis a fine rayciption th' Boer dillygates is havin' in this counthry.”

“They'll be out here nex' week,” said Mr. Hennessy.

“They will that,” Mr. Dooley replied, “an' we'll show thim that our inthrest in small raypublics fightin' f'r their liberty ain't disappeared since we become an impeeryal nation. No, sir. We have as much inthrest as iver, but we have more inthrests elsewhere.”

“Oom Paul, he says to th' la-ads: 'Go,' he says, 'to me good an' great frind, Mack th' Wanst, an' lay th' case befure him,' he says. 'Tell him,' he says, 'that th' situation is just th' same as it was durin' Wash'nton's time,' he says, 'on'y Wash'nton won, an' we're rapidly losin' kopjes till we soon won't have wan to sthrike a match on,' he says. An' off goes th' good men. Whin they started the Boers was doin' pretty well, Hinnissy. They were fightin' Englishmen, an' that's a lawn tinnis to a rale fightin' man. But afther awhile the murdherin' English gover'mint put in a few recreent but gallant la-ads fr'm th' ol' dart—we ought to be proud iv thim, curse thim—Pat O'Roberts, an' Mike McKitchener, an' Terrence O'Fr-rinch—an' they give th' view—halloo an' wint through th' Dutch like a party comin' home fr'm a fifteenth iv August picnic might go through a singerbund. So be th' time th' dillygates got to Europe it was: 'James, if thim br-rave but misguided Dutch appears, squirt th' garden hose on thim. I'll see th' British embassadure this afthernoon.' Ye see, Hinnissy, 'twas ol' Kruger's play to keep on winnin' battles till th' dillygates had their say. Th' amount iv sympathy that goes out f'r a sthrugglin' people is reg'lated, Hinnissy, be th' amount iv sthrugglin' th' people can do. Th' wurruld, me la-ad, is with th' undher dog on'y as long as he has a good hold an' a chanst to tur-rn over.”

“Well, sir, whin th' dillygates see they cudden't do business in Europe, says they to thimsilves: 'We'll pike acrost th' ragin' sea,' they says, 'an in th' home iv Wash'nton, Lincoln, an' Willum J. Bryan, ye bet we'll have a hearin',' an' they got wan. Ivrybody's listenin' to thim. But no wan replies. If they'd come here three months ago, befure Crownjoy was suffocated out iv his hole in th' groun', they'd be smokin' their pipes in rockin' chairs on th' veranda iv th' white house an' passin' th' bucket between thim an' Mack. But 'tis diff'rent now. 'Tis diff'rent now. Says Willum J. Bryan: 'I can't see thim mesilf, f'r it may not be long befure I'll have to dale with these inthricate problems, I hope an' pray, but Congressman Squirtwather, do ye disguise ye'ersilf as a private citizen an' go down to th' hotel an' tell these la-ads that I'm with thim quietly if public opinyon justifies it an' Mack takes th' other side. Tell thim I frequently say to mesilf that they're all r-right, but I wudden't want it to go further. Perhaps they cud be injooced to speak at a dimmycratic meetin' unbeknown to me,' he says.

“Sicrety Hay meets thim in a coal cellar, wearin' a mask. 'Gintlemen,' says he, 'I can assure ye th' prisidint an' mesilf feels mos' deeply f'r ye. I needn't tell ye about mesilf,' he says. 'Haven't I sint me own son into ye'er accursed but liberty-lovin' counthry,' he says. 'As f'r Mack, I assure ye he's hear-rtbroken over th' tur-rn affairs have taken,' he says. 'Early in th' war he wrote to Lord Salisberry, sayin' he hoped 'twud not be continyued to iliction day, an' Salisberry give him a gruff response. Tur-rned him down, though both ar-re Anglo-Saxons,' he says. 'Las' night his sobs fairly shook th' white house as he thought iv ye an' ye'er sthruggle. He wants to tell ye how much he thinks iv ye, an' he'll meet ye in th' carredge house if ye'll shave off ye'er whiskers an' go as clam-peddlers. Ye'll reco'nize him in a green livery. He'll wear a pink carnation in his buttonhole. Give th' names iv Dorsey an' Flannagan, an' if th' English ambassadure goes by get down on ye'er ban's an' knees an' don't make a sign till he's out iv sight,' he says. 'Th' stout party in blue near by'll be Mark Hanna. He may be able to arrange a raypublican meetin' f'r ye to addhress,' he says. 'The gr-reat hear-rt iv th' raypublican party throbs f'r ye. So does Mack's,' he says. 'So does mine,' he says.”

“Well, th' dillygates met Mack an' they had a pleasant chat. 'Will ye,' says they, 'inthervene an' whistle off th' dogs iv war?' they says. 'Whisper,' says Mack, th' tears flowin' down his cheeks. 'Iver since this war started me eyes have been fixed on th' gallant or otherwise, nation or depindancy, fightin' its brave battle f'r freedom or rebellin' again' th' sov'reign power, as the case may be,' he says. 'Unofficially, my sympathy has gone out to ye, an' bur-rnin' wurruds iv unofficial cheer has been