"A woman ought to be careful who she marries," said Mr. Dooley.
"So ought a man," said Mr. Hennessy, with feeling.
"It don't make so much diff'rence about him," said Mr. Dooley.
"Whin a man's marrid, he's a marrid man. That's all ye can say
about him. Iv coorse, he thinks marredge is goin' to change th'
whole current iv his bein', as Hogan says. But it doesn't. Afther
he's been hooked up f'r a few months, he finds he was marrid befure,
even if he wasn't, which is often th' case, d'ye mind. Th' first
bride iv his bosom was th' Day's Wurruk, an' it can't be put off.
They'se no groun's f'r dissolvin' that marredge, Hinnissy. Ye
can't say to th' Day's Wurruk: 'Here, take this bunch iv alimony
an' go on th' stage.' It turns up at breakfast about th' fourth
month afther th' weddin' an' creates a scandal. Th' unforchnit
man thries to shoo it off but it fixes him with its eye an' hauls
him away fr'm the bacon an' eggs, while the lady opposite weeps
and wondhers what he can see in annything so old an' homely. It
says, 'Come with me, aroon,' an' he goes. An' afther that he
spinds most iv his time an' often a good deal iv his money with
th' enchantress. I tell ye what, Hinnissy, th' Day's Wurruk has
broke up more happy homes thin comic opry. If th' coorts wud
allow it, manny a woman cud get a divorce on th' groun's that her
husband cared more f'r his Day's Wurruk thin he did f'r her.
'Hinnissy varsus Hinnissy; corryspondint, th' Day's Wurruk.' They'd
be ividince that th' defindant was seen ridin' in a cab with th'
corryspondint, that he took it to a picnic, that he wint to th'
theaytre with it, that he talked about it in his sleep, an' that,
lost to all sinse iv shame, he even escoorted it home with him an'
inthrajooced it to his varchoos wife an' innocint childher. So
it don't make much diff'rence who a man marries. If he has a job,
he's safe.
"But with a woman 'tis diff'rent. Th' man puts down on'y part iv
th' bet. Whin he's had enough iv th' convarsation that in Union
Park undher th' threes med him think he was talkin' with an
intellechool joyntess, all he has to do is to put on his coat,
grab up his dinner pail an' go down to th' shops, to be happy
though marrid. But a woman, I tell ye, bets all she has. A man
don't have to marry but a woman does. Ol' maids an' clargymen do
th' most good in th' wurruld an' we love thim f'r th' good they
do. But people, especially women, don't want to be loved that
way. They want to be loved because people can't help lovin' thim
no matther how bad they are. Th' story books that ye give ye'er
daughter Honoria all tell her 'tis just as good not to be marrid.
She reads about how kind Dorothy was to Lulu's childher an' she
knows Dorothy was th' betther woman, but she wants to be Lulu.
Her heart, an' a cold look in th' eye iv th' wurruld an' her Ma
tell her to hurry up. Arly in life she looks f'r th' man iv her
choice in th' tennis records; later she reads th' news fr'm th'
militia encampmint; thin she studies th' socyal raygisther; further
on she makes hersilf familyar with Bradsthreets' rayports, an'
fin'lly she watches th' place where life presarvers are hangin'.
"Now, what kind iv a man ought a woman to marry? She oughtn't to
marry a young man because she'll grow old quicker thin he will;
she oughtn't to marry an old man because he'll be much older befure
he's younger; she oughtn't to marry a poor man because he may
become rich an' lose her; she oughtn't to marry a rich man because
if he becomes poor, she can't lose him; she oughtn't to marry a
man that knows more thin she does, because he'll niver fail to
show it, an' she oughtn't to marry a man that knows less because
he may niver catch up. But above all things she mustn't marry a
janius. A flure-walker, perhaps; a janius niver.
"I tell ye this because I've been r-readin' a book Hogan give
me, about th' divvle's own time a janius had with his fam'ly. A
cap iv industhry may have throuble in his fam'ly till there isn't
a whole piece iv chiny in th' cupboard, an' no wan will be the
wiser f'r it but th' hired girl an' th' doctor that paints th'
black eye. But ivrybody knows what happens in a janius' house.
Th' janius always tells th' bartinder. Besides he has other
janiuses callin' on him, an' 'tis th' business iv a janius to write
about th' domestic throubles iv other janiuses so posterity'll
know what a hard thing it is to be a janius. I've been readin'
this book iv Hogan's an' as I tell ye, 'tis about th' misery a
wretched woman inflicted on a pote's life.
"'Our hayro,' says th' author,' at this peeryod conthracted an
unforchnit alliance that was destined to cast a deep gloom over
his career. At th' age iv fifty, afther a life devoted to th'
pursoot iv such gayety as janiuses have always found niciss'ry to
solace their avenin's, he marrid a young an' beautiful girl some
thirty-two years his junior. This wretched crather had no
appreciation iv lithrachoor or lithry men. She was frivolous an'
light-minded an' ividintly considhered that nawthin' was rally
lithrachoor that cudden't be thranslated into groceries. Niver
shall I f'rget th' expression iv despair on th' face iv this godlike
man as he came into Casey's saloon wan starry July avenin' an'
staggered into his familyar seat, holdin' in his hand a bit iv
soiled paper which he tore into fragmints an' hurled into th' coal
scuttle. On that crumpled parchmint findin' a sombre grave among
th' disinterred relics iv an age long past, to wit, th' cariboniferious
or coal age, was written th' iver-mim'rable pome: "Ode to Gin."
Our frind had scribbled it hastily at th' dinner iv th'
Betther-thin-Shakespere Club, an' had attimpted to read it to his
wife through th' keyhole iv her bedroom dure an' met no response
fr'm th' fillystein but a pitcher iv wather through th' thransom.
Forchnitly he had presarved a copy on his cuff an' th' gem was
not lost to posterity. But such was th' home life iv wan iv th'
gr-reatest iv lithry masters, a man indowed be nachure with all
that shud make a woman adore him as is proved be his tindher
varses: 'To Carrie,' 'To Maude,' 'To Flossie,' 'To Angehel,' 'To
Queenie,' an' so foorth. De Bonipoort in his cillybrated 'Mimores,'
in which he tells ivrything unpleasant he see or heerd in his
frinds' houses, gives a sthrikin' pitcher iv a scene that happened
befure his eyes. 'Afther a few basins iv absceenthe in th' reev
gosh,' says he, 'Parnassy invited us home to dinner. Sivral iv
th' bum vivonts was hard to wake up, but fin'lly we arrived at th'
handsome cellar where our gr-reat frind had installed his unworthy
fam'ly. Ivrything pinted to th' admirable taste iv th' thrue
artist. Th' tub, th' washboard, th' biler singin' on th' fire,
th' neighbor's washin' dancin' on the clothes rack, were all in
keepin' with th' best ideels iv what a pote's home shud be. Th'
wife, a faded but still pretty woman, welcomed us more or less,
an' with th' assistance iv sivral bottles iv paint we had brought
with us, we was soon launched on a feast iv raison an' a flow iv
soul. Unhappily befure th' raypast was con-cluded a mis'rable
scene took place. Amid cries iv approval, Parnassy read his
mim'rable pome intitled: 'I wisht I nivir got marrid.' Afther
finishin' in a perfect roar of applause, he happened to look up
an' see his wife callously rockin' th' baby. With th' impetchosity
so charackteristic iv th' man, he broke a soup plate over her head
an' burst into tears on th' flure, where gentle sleep soon soothed
th' pangs iv a weary heart. We left as quitely as we cud,
considherin' th' way th' chairs was placed, an' wanst undher th'
stars comminted on th' ir'ny iv fate that condimned so great a man
to so milancholy a distiny.
"'This,' says our author, 'was th' daily life iv th' hayro f'r tin
years. In what purgatory will that infamous woman suffer if Hiven
thinks as much iv janiuses as we think iv oursilves. Forchnitly
th' pote was soon to be marcifully relieved. He left her an' she
marrid a boorjawce with whom she led a life iv coarse happiness.
It is sad to relate that some years aftherward th' great pote,
havin' called to make a short touch on th' woman f'r whom he had
sacryficed so much, was unfeelingly kicked out iv th' boorjawce's
plumbin' shop.'
"So, ye see, Hinnissy, why a woman oughtn't to marry a janius.
She can't be cross or peevish or angry or jealous or frivolous or
annything else a woman ought to be at times f'r fear it will get
into th' ditchn'ry iv bio-graphy, an' she'll go down to histhry
as a termygant. A termygant, Hinnissy, is a woman who's heerd
talkin' to her husband after they've been marrid a year. Hogan
says all janiuses was unhappily marrid. I guess that's thrue iv
their wives, too. He says if ye hear iv a pote who got on with
his fam'ly, scratch him fr'm ye'er public lib'ry list. An' there
ye ar-re."
"Ye know a lot about marredge," said Mr. Hennessy.
"I do," said Mr. Dooley.
"Ye was niver marrid?"
"No," said Mr. Dooley. "No, I say, givin' three cheers. I know
about marredge th' way an asthronomer knows about th' stars. I'm
studyin' it through me glass all th' time."
"Ye're an asthronomer," said Mr. Hennessy; "but," he added, tapping
himself lightly on the chest, "I'm a star."
"Go home," said Mr. Dooley crossly, "befure th' mornin' comes to
put ye out."