



Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Marvin A. Hodges, Charles
Franks, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team







MR. DOOLEY'S PHILOSOPHY

By Finley Peter Dunne


_Illustrated by_ F. OPPER.



{Illustration: POOR PEOPLE 'LL HAVE SIMPLE MEALS.}



_To the Hennessys of the world who suffer and are silent_




PREFACE


The reporter of these monologues would apologize for the frequent
reappearances of Mr. Dooley, if he felt the old gentleman would
appreciate an apology in his behalf. But Mr. Dooley has none of the
modesty that has been described as "an invention for protection against
envy," because unlike that one of his distinguished predecessors who
discovered this theory to excuse his own imperfect but boastful egotism,
he recognizes no such human failing as envy. Most of the papers in the
present collection of the sayings of this great and learned man have
appeared in the press of America and England. This will account for the
fact that they deal with subjects that have pressed hard upon the minds
of newspaper readers, statesmen, and tax-payers during the year.
To these utterances have been added a number of obiter dicta by the
philosopher, which, perhaps, will be found to have the reminiscent
flavor that appertains to the observations of all learned judges when
they are off the bench.

In some cases the sketches have been remodeled and care has been taken
to correct typographical blunders, except where they seemed to improve
the text. In this connection the writer must offer his profound
gratitude to the industrious typographer, who often makes two jokes grow
where only one grew before, and has added generously to the distress of
amateur elocutionists.

F. P. D.





CONTENTS


A BOOK REVIEW AMERICANS ABROAD SERVANT GIRL PROBLEM THE TRANSVAAL
WAR AND WAR MAKERS UNDERESTIMATING THE ENEMY THE WAR EXPERT MODERN
EXPLOSIVES THE BOER MISSION THE CHINESE SITUATION MINISTER WU THE FUTURE
OF CHINA PLATFORM MAKING THE YACHT RACES POLYGAMY PUBLIC FICKLENESS
KENTUCKY POLITICS YOUNG ORATORY PUBLIC GRATITUDE MARRIAGE AND POLITICS
ALCOHOL AS FOOD HIGH FINANCE THE PARIS EXPOSITION CHRISTIAN JOURNALISM
THE ADMIRAL'S CANDIDACY CUSTOMS OF KENTUCKY A SOCIETY SCANDAL DOINGS OF
ANARCHISTS ANGLO-AMERICAN SPORTS VOICES FROM THE TOMB THE <DW64> PROBLEM
THE AMERICAN STAGE TROUBLES OF A CANDIDATE A BACHELOR'S LIFE THE
EDUCATION OF THE YOUNG "L'AIGLON" CASUAL OBSERVATIONS




A BOOK REVIEW


"Well sir," said Mr. Dooley, "I jus' got hold iv a book, Hinnissy, that
suits me up to th' handle, a gran' book, th' grandest iver seen. Ye know
I'm not much throubled be lithrachoor, havin' manny worries iv me own,
but I'm not prejudiced again' books. I am not. Whin a rale good book
comes along I'm as quick as anny wan to say it isn't so bad, an' this
here book is fine. I tell ye 'tis fine."

"What is it?" Mr. Hennessy asked languidly.

"'Tis 'Th' Biography iv a Hero be Wan who Knows.' 'Tis 'Th' Darin'
Exploits iv a Brave Man be an Actual Eye Witness.' 'Tis 'Th' Account iv
th' Desthruction iv Spanish Power in th' Ant Hills,' as it fell fr'm th'
lips iv Tiddy Rosenfelt an' was took down be his own hands. Ye see 'twas
this way, Hinnissy, as I r-read th' book. Whin Tiddy was blowed up
in th' harbor iv Havana he instantly con-cluded they must be war.
He debated th' question long an' earnestly an' fin'lly passed a jint
resolution declarin' war. So far so good. But there was no wan to carry
it on. What shud he do? I will lave th' janial author tell th' story in
his own wurruds.

"'Th' sicrety iv war had offered me,' he says, 'th' command of a
rig'mint,' he says, 'but I cud not consint to remain in Tampa while
perhaps less audacious heroes was at th' front,' he says. 'Besides,'
he says, 'I felt I was incompetent f'r to command a rig'mint raised be
another,' he says. 'I detarmined to raise wan iv me own,' he says. 'I
selected fr'm me acquaintances in th' West,' he says,'men that had
thravelled with me acrost th' desert an' th' storm-wreathed mountain,'
he says,'sharin' me burdens an' at times confrontin' perils almost as
gr-reat as anny that beset me path,' he says. 'Together we had faced th'
turrors iv th' large but vilent West,' he says, 'an' these brave men
had seen me with me trusty rifle shootin' down th' buffalo, th' elk, th'
moose, th' grizzly bear, th' mountain goat,' he says, 'th' silver man,
an' other ferocious beasts iv thim parts,' he says. 'An' they niver
flinched,' he says. 'In a few days I had thim perfectly tamed,' he says,
'an' ready to go annywhere I led,' he says. 'On th' thransport goi'n to
Cubia,' he says, 'I wud stand beside wan iv these r-rough men threatin'
him as a akel, which he was in ivrything but birth, education, rank
an' courage, an' together we wud look up at th' admirable stars iv that
tolerable southern sky an' quote th' bible fr'm Walt Whitman,' he says.
'Honest, loyal, thrue-hearted la-ads, how kind I was to thim,' he says."

{Illustration: Read the articles by Roosevelt and Davis in the Car Fare
Magazine}

"'We had no sooner landed in Cubia than it become nicessry f'r me to
take command iv th' ar-rmy which I did at wanst. A number of days was
spint be me in reconnoitring, attinded on'y be me brave an' fluent body
guard, Richard Harding Davis. I discovered that th' inimy was heavily
inthrenched on th' top iv San Juon hill immejiately in front iv me. At
this time it become apparent that I was handicapped be th' prisence iv
th' ar-rmy,' he says. 'Wan day whin I was about to charge a block house
sturdily definded be an ar-rmy corps undher Gin'ral Tamale, th' brave
Castile that I aftherwards killed with a small ink-eraser that I always
carry, I r-ran into th' entire military force iv th' United States lying
on its stomach. 'If ye won't fight,' says I, 'let me go through, 'I
says. 'Who ar-re ye?' says they. 'Colonel Rosenfelt,' says I. 'Oh,
excuse me,' says the gin'ral in command (if me mimry serves me thrue it
was Miles) r-risin' to his knees an' salutin'. This showed me 'twud be
impossible f'r to carry th' war to a successful con-clusion unless I
was free, so I sint th' ar-rmy home an' attackted San Juon hill. Ar-rmed
on'y with a small thirty-two which I used in th' West to shoot th' fleet
prairie dog, I climbed that precipitous ascent in th' face iv th' most
gallin' fire I iver knew or heerd iv. But I had a few r-rounds iv gall
mesilf an' what cared I? I dashed madly on cheerin' as I wint. Th'
Spanish throops was dhrawn up in a long line in th' formation known
among military men as a long line. I fired at th' man nearest to me an'
I knew be th' expression iv his face that th' trusty bullet wint home.
It passed through his frame, he fell, an' wan little home in far-off
Catalonia was made happy be th' thought that their riprisintative had
been kilt be th' future governor iv New York. Th' bullet sped on its mad
flight an' passed through th' intire line fin'lly imbeddin' itself in
th' abdomen iv th' Ar-rch-bishop iv Santiago eight miles away. This
ended th' war.'

"'They has been some discussion as to who was th' first man to r-reach
th' summit iv San Juon hill. I will not attempt to dispute th' merits iv
th' manny gallant sojers, statesmen, corryspondints an' kinetoscope men
who claim th' distinction. They ar-re all brave men an' if they wish to
wear my laurels they may. I have so manny annyhow that it keeps me
broke havin' thim blocked an' irned. But I will say f'r th' binifit iv
Posterity that I was th' on'y man I see. An I had a tillyscope.'"

"I have thried, Hinnissy," Mr. Dooley continued, "to give you a fair
idee iv th' contints iv this remarkable book, but what I've tol' ye is
on'y what Hogan calls an outline iv th' principal pints. Ye'll have to
r-read th' book ye'ersilf to get a thrue conciption. I haven't time f'r
to tell ye th' wurruk Tiddy did in ar-rmin' an' equippin' himself, how
he fed himsilf, how he steadied himsilf in battle an' encouraged himsilf
with a few well-chosen wurruds whin th' sky was darkest. Ye'll have to
take a squint into th' book ye'ersilf to l'arn thim things."

"I won't do it," said Mr. Hennessy. "I think Tiddy Rosenfelt is all
r-right an' if he wants to blow his hor-rn lave him do it."

"Thrue f'r ye," said Mr. Dooley, "an' if his valliant deeds didn't get
into this book 'twud be a long time befure they appeared in Shafter's
histhry iv th' war. No man that bears a gredge again' himsilf 'll iver
be governor iv a state. An' if Tiddy done it all he ought to say so
an' relieve th' suspinse. But if I was him I'd call th' book 'Alone in
Cubia.'"




AMERICANS ABROAD


"I wondher," said Mr. Dooley, "what me Dutch frind Oom Paul'll think
whin he hears that Willum Waldorf Asthor has given four thousan' pounds
or twinty thousan' iv our money as a conthribution to th' British
governmint?"

"Who's Willum Waldorf Asthor?" Mr. Hennessy asked. "I niver heerd iv
him."

"Ye wudden't," said Mr. Dooley. "He don't thravel in ye'er set. Willum
Waldorf Asthor is a gintleman that wanst committed th' sin iv bein'
bor-rn in this counthry. Ye know what orig-inal sin is, Hinnissy. Ye was
bor-rn with wan an' I was bor-rn with wan an' ivrybody was bor-rn with
wan. 'Twas took out iv me be Father Tuomy with holy wather first an'
be me father aftherward with a sthrap. But I niver cud find out what it
was. Th' sins I've committed since, I'm sure iv. They're painted red an'
carry a bell an' whin I'm awake in bed they stan' out on th' wall like
th' ilicthric signs they have down be State sthreet in front iv th'
clothin' stores. But I'll go to th' grave without knowin' exactly what
th' black orig-inal sin was I committed. All I know is I done wrong.
But with Willum Waldorf Asthor 'tis dif'rent. I say 'tis diff'rent with
Willum Waldorf Asthor. His orig-inal sin was bein' bor-rn in New York.
He cudden't do anything about it. Nawthin' in this counthry wud wipe
it out. He built a hotel intinded f'r jooks who had no sins but thim
iv their own makin', but even th' sight iv their haughty bills cud not
efface th' stain. He thried to live down his crime without success an'
he thried to live down to it be runnin' f'r congress, but it was no go.
No matther where he wint among his counthrymen in England some wan wud
find out he was bor-rn in New York an' th' man that ownded th' house
where he was spindin' th' night wud ast him if he was a cannibal an' had
he anny Indyan blood in his veins. 'Twas like seein' a fine lookin'
man with an intel-lecjal forehead an' handsome, dar-rk brown eyes an'
admirin' him, an' thin larnin' his name is Mudd J. Higgins. His accint
was proper an' his clothes didn't fit him right, but he was not bor-rn
in th' home iv his dayscindants, an' whin he walked th' sthreets iv
London he knew ivry polisman was sayin': 'There goes a man that pretinds
to be happy, but a dark sorrow is gnawin' at his bosom. He looks as if
he was at home, but he was bor-rn in New York, Gawd help him."

{Illustration}


"So this poor way-worn sowl, afther thryin' ivry other rimidy fr'm
dhrivin' a coach to failin' to vote, at las' sought out th' rile high
clark iv th' coort an' says he: 'Behold,' he says, 'an onhappy man,' he
says. 'With millyons in me pocket, two hotels an' onlimited credit, 'he
says,'me hear-rt is gray,' he says. 'Poor sowl,' says th' clark iv th'
coort, 'What's ailin' ye'?' he says. 'Have ye committed some gr-reat
crime?' he says. 'Partly,' says Willum Waldorf Asthor. 'It was partly
me an' partly me folks,' he says. 'I was,' he says, in a voice broken be
tears, 'I was,' he says, 'bor-rn in New York,' he says. Th' clark made
th' sign iv th' cross an' says he: 'Ye shudden't have come here,' he
says. 'Poor afflicted wretch,' he says, 'ye need a clargyman,' he
says. 'Why did ye seek me out?' he says. 'Because,' says Willum Waldorf
Asthor, 'I wish,' he says, 'f'r to renounce me sinful life,' he says. 'I
wish to be bor-rn anew,' he says. An' th' clark bein' a kind man helps
him out. An' Willum Waldorf Asthor renounced fealty to all foreign
sovereigns, princes an' potentates an' especially Mack th' Wanst, or
Twict, iv th' United States an' Sulu an' all his wur-ruks an' he come
out iv th' coort with his hat cocked over his eye, with a step jaunty
and high, afther years iv servile freedom a bondman at last!

"So he's a citizen iv Gr-reat Britain now an' a lile subject iv th'
Queen like you was Hinnissy befure ye was r-run out."

"I niver was," said Mr. Hennessy. "Sure th' Queen iv England was
renounced f'r me long befure I did it f'r mesilf--to vote."

"Well, niver mind," Mr. Dooley continued, "he's a citizen iv England an'
he has a castle that's as big as a hotel, on'y nobody goes there excipt
thim that's ast, an' not all of those, an' he owns a newspaper an' th'
editor iv it's the Prince iv Wales an' th' rayporthers is all jooks an'
th' Archbishop iv Canterbury r-runs th' ilivator, an' slug wan in th'
printin' office is th' Impror iv Germany in disgeese. 'Tis a pa-per I'd
like to see. I'd like to know how th' Jook iv Marlbro'd do th' McGovern
fight. An' some day Willum Waldorf Asthor'll be able to wurruk f'r
his own pa-aper, f'r he's goin' to be a earl or a markess or a jook
or somethin' gran'. Ye can't be anny iv these things without money,
Hinnissy, an' he has slathers iv it."

"Where does he get it?" demanded Mr. Hennessy.

"F'rm this counthry," said Mr. Dooley.

"I shud think," Mr. Hennessy protested stoutly, "if he's ashamed iv this
counthry he wudden't want to take money f'rm it."

"That's where ye're wrong," Mr. Dooley replied. "Take money annywhere
ye find it. I'd take money f'rm England, much as I despise that formerly
haughty but now dejected land, if I cud get anny from there. An' whin ye
come down to it, I dinnaw as I blame Willum Waldorf Asthor f'r shiftin'
his allegiance. Ivry wan to his taste as th' man said whin he dhrank out
iv th' fire extinguisher. It depinds on how ye feel. If ye ar-re a tired
la-ad an' wan without much fight in ye, livin' in this counthry is
like thryin' to read th' Lives iv the Saints at a meetin' iv th'
Clan-na-Gael. They'se no quiet f'r annybody. They's a fight on ivry
minyit iv th' time. Ye may say to ye'ersilf: 'I'll lave these la-ads
roll each other as much as they plaze, but I'll set here in th' shade
an' dhrink me milk punch, but ye can't do it. Some wan 'll say, 'Look at
that gazabo settin' out there alone. He's too proud f'r to jine in our
simple dimmycratic festivities. Lave us go over an' bate him on th'
eye.' An' they do it. Now if ye have fightin' blood in ye'er veins ye
hastily gulp down yeer dhrink an' hand ye'er assailant wan that does him
no kind iv good, an' th' first thing ye know ye're in th thick iv it an'
its scrap, scrap, scrap till th' undhertaker calls f'r to measure ye.
An' 'tis tin to wan they'se somethin' doin' at th' fun'ral that ye're
sorry ye missed. That's life in America. Tis a gloryous big fight, a
rough an' tumble fight, a Donnybrook fair three thousan' miles wide an'
a ruction in ivry block. Head an' ban's an' feet an' th' pitchers on th'
wall. No holds barred. Fight fair but don't f'rget th' other la-ad may
not know where th' belt line is. No polisman in sight. A man's down with
twinty on top iv him wan minyit. Th' next he's settin' on th' pile usin'
a base-ball bat on th' neighbor next below him. 'Come on, boys, f'r
'tis growin' late, an' no wan's been kilt yet. Glory be, but this is th'
life!'

"Now, if I'm tired I don't want to fight. A man bats me in th' eye an'
I call f'r th' polis. They isn't a polisman in sight. I say to th'
man that poked me: 'Sir, I fain wud sleep.' 'Get up,' he says, 'an' be
doin',' he says. 'Life is rale, life is earnest,' he says, 'an' man was
made to fight,' he says, fetchin' me a kick. An' if I'm tired I say,
'What's th' use? I've got plenty iv money in me inside pocket. I'll go
to a place where they don't know how to fight. I'll go where I can get
something but an argymint f'r me money an' where I won't have to rassle
with th' man that bates me carpets, ayether,' I says, 'f'r fifty cints
overcharge or good govermint,' I says. An' I pike off to what Hogan
calls th' effete monarchies iv Europe an' no wan walks on me toes, an'
ivry man I give a dollar to becomes an acrobat an' I live comfortably
an' die a markess! Th' divvle I do!

"That's what I was goin' to say," Mr. Hennessy remarked. "Ye wudden't
live annywhere but here."

"No," said Mr. Dooley, "I wudden't. I'd rather be Dooley iv Chicago than
th' Earl iv Peltvule. It must be that I'm iv th' fightin' kind."




SERVANT GIRL PROBLEM


Whin Congress gets through expellin' mimbers that believes so much in
mathrimony that they carry it into ivry relation iv life an' opens th'
dure iv Chiny so that an American can go in there as free as a Chinnyman
can come into this refuge iv th' opprissed iv th' wurruld, I hope'twill
turn its attintion to th' gr-reat question now confrontin' th'
nation--th' question iv what we shall do with our hired help. What shall
we do with thim?

"We haven't anny," said Mr. Hennessy.

"No," said Mr. Dooley. "Ar-rchey r-road has no servant girl problem. Th'
rule is ivry woman her own cook an' ivry man his own futman, an' be th'
same token we have no poly-gamy problem an' no open dure problem an'
no Ph'lippeen problem. Th' on'y problem in Ar-rchey r-road is how manny
times does round steak go into twelve at wan dollar-an-a-half a day. But
east iv th' r-red bridge, Hinnissy, wan iv th' most cryin' issues iv
th' hour is: What shall we do with our hired help? An' if Congress don't
take hold iv it we ar-re a rooned people."

"'Tis an ol' problem an' I've seen it arise an' shake its gory head
ivry few years whiniver th' Swede popylation got wurruk an' begun bein'
marrid, thus rayjoocin' th' visible supply iv help. But it seems 'tis
deeper thin that. I see be letters in th' pa-apers that servants is
insolent, an' that they won't go to wurruk onless they like th' looks iv
their employers, an' that they rayfuse to live in th' counthry. Why anny
servant shud rayfuse to live in th' counthry is more thin I can see.
Ye'd think that this disreputable class'd give annything to lave
th' crowded tinimints iv a large city where they have frinds be th'
hundherds an' know th' polisman on th' bate an' can go out to hateful
dances an' moonlight picnics--ye'd think these unforchnate slaves'd be
delighted to live in Mulligan's subdivision, amid th' threes an' flowers
an' bur-rds. Gettin' up at four o'clock in th' mornin' th' singin'
iv th' full-throated alarm clock is answered be an invisible choir iv
songsters, as Shakespere says, an' ye see th' sun rise over th' hills as
ye go out to carry in a ton iv coal. All day long ye meet no wan as
ye thrip over th' coal-scuttle, happy in ye'er tile an' ye'er heart is
enlivened be th' thought that th' childher in th' front iv th' house
ar-re growin' sthrong on th' fr-resh counthry air. Besides they'se
always cookin' to do. At night ye can set be th' fire an' improve ye'er
mind be r-readin' half th' love story in th' part iv th' pa-aper that
th' cheese come home in, an' whin ye're through with that, all ye have
to do is to climb a ladder to th' roof an' fall through th' skylight an'
ye're in bed."

{Illustration}


"But wud ye believe it, Hinnissy, manny iv these misguided women rayfuse
f'r to take a job that aint in a city. They prefer th' bustle an'
roar iv th' busy marts iv thrade, th' sthreet car, th' saloon on three
corners an' th' church on wan, th' pa-apers ivry mornin' with pitchers
iv th' s'ciety fav'rite that's just thrown up a good job at Armours to
elope with th' well-known club man who used to be yard-masther iv th'
three B's, G, L, & N., th' shy peek into th' dhry-goods store, an' other
base luxuries, to a free an' healthy life in th' counthry between iliven
P.M. an' four A.M. Wensdahs an' Sundahs. 'Tis worse thin that, Hinnissy,
f'r whin they ar-re in th' city they seem to dislike their wurruk an'
manny iv thim ar-re givin' up splindid jobs with good large families
where they have no chanst to spind their salaries, if they dhraw thim,
an' takin' places in shops, an' gettin' marrid an' adoptin' other
devices that will give thim th' chanst f'r to wear out their good
clothes. 'Tis a horrible situation. Riley th' conthractor dhropped in
here th' other day in his horse an' buggy on his way to the dhrainage
canal an' he was all wurruked up over th' question. 'Why,' he says,
''tis scand'lous th' way servants act,' he says. 'Mrs. Riley has
hystrics,' he says. 'An' ivry two or three nights whin I come home,' he
says, 'I have to win a fight again' a cook with a stove lid befure I
can move me family off th' fr-ront stoop,' he says. 'We threat thim well
too,' he says. 'I gave th' las' wan we had fifty cints an' a cook book
at Chris'mas an' th' next day she left befure breakfast,' he says. 'What
naytionalties do ye hire?' says I. 'I've thried thim all,' he says,
'an',' he says, 'I'll say this in shame,' he says, 'that th' Irish ar-re
th' worst,' he says. 'Well,' says I, 'ye need have no shame,' I says,
'f'r'tis on'y th' people that ar-re good servants that'll niver be
masthers,' I says. 'Th' Irish ar-re no good as servants because they
ar-re too good,' I says. 'Th' Dutch ar-re no good because they aint good
enough. No matther how they start they get th' noodle habit. I