"This here business iv Artic exploration's th' gran' pursoot,"
said Mr. Dooley. "A gran', comfortable, fightin', quarrelin'
business."
"What's it all about?" asked Mr. Hennessy. "Why shud annywan want
to go to th' North Pole? Ain't it cold enough here?"
"I niver cud quite make it out," said Mr. Dooley. "I've heerd
tell that years ago, befure th' fire or th' war, some wan had an
idee in his foolish head that they was a gran' sea up there with
blue wather dimplin' in th' moonlight an' cocynut threes growin'
on th' shore an' if a man cud on'y get in with his boat, he cud
sail around th' wurruld an' fetch up in Chiny. That idee blew up
an' thin some wan said 'twud be a fine thing f'r science if a white
man cud get to th' North Pole. What he'd do if he got there no
wan has anny thought. Accordin' to what I hear, th' North Pole
ain't like a tillygraft pole, a barber pole, a fishin' pole, a
clothes pole, a poll-tax, a Maypole, a Russhyan Pole, or annything
that ye can see, smell or ate. Whin ye get to it, it is no diff'rent
fr'm bein' annywhere on th' ice. Th' on'y way ye know ye're there
is be consultin' a pocket arithmetic, a watch an' a compass. Don't
get it into ye'er head that if me frind Baldwin or Peary iver wint
north iv Milwaukee an' come acrost th' North Pole they'd carve
their names on it or hist a flag over it or bring it home with
thim on a thruck an' set it up on th' lake front. Th' north pole
is a gigantic column iv cold air, some says hot, an' an enthusyastic
explorer that wasn't lookin' where he wint might pass right through
it without knowin'.
"In th' arly days whin an explorer wint off to find th' Pole, he
bought himsilf a sheepskin coat, a couple iv dogs, a pair iv skates,
an' a bottle iv pickled onions an' set out bravely, an' th' people
watched th' fam'ly to see what other form th' lunacy wud take.
Afther awhile he ayether come back or he didn't. Sometimes th'
Esqueemo lady didn't care to lave her pleasant home in th' land
iv perpetchool blubber an' in that case th' hardy mariner remained
in th' frozen north. I niver cud see th' advantages iv life in
th' Artic regions. 'Tis thrue th' nights is six months long an'
sleep is wan iv th' spoorts that age hasn't deprived me iv. It
mus' be a gr-reat counthry f'r burglars. But f'r a plain wurrukin'
man it's very thryin'. Think iv a six months' wurrukin' day. Ye
get ye'er breakfast at sun-up in March an' ye don't set down to
dinner till th' first iv June. Thin comes a long afthernoon an'
I tell ye whin th' whistle blows at six o'clock October, it's a
welcome sound it sinds to ye'er ears. Ye go home an' all th'
childher has growed up an' th' news in th' mornin' pa-per is six
months' old. Ye lie around readin' an' playin' cards f'r a month
or two an' thin ye yawn an' set th' alarm clock f'r March an' says:
'Mah, it's th' fifteenth iv Novimber an' time th' childher was
abed,' an' go to sleep. About Christmas th' good woman wakes ye
up to look f'r th' burglar an' afther ye've paddled around in th'
ice floe f'r a week, ye climb back into bed grumblin' an' go to
sleep again. Afther awhile ye snore an' th' wife iv ye'er bosom
punches ye. 'What time is it?' says ye. 'It's a quarther past
th' fifteenth iv Janooary,' says she, 'an' that siren iv ye'ers
has been goin' since New Year's day.' At March ye ar-re aroused
be th' alarm clock an' ye go out to feed th' seals an' I tell ye,
ye need a shave. It mus' be a quare sinsation to wake up in th'
mornin' an' find that th' kid ye tucked into bed th' night befure
has grown side-whiskers in his sleep an' his feet has pushed out
th' foot iv th' cradle. Not f'r my money, Hinnissy. Th' Artic
regions f'r thim that likes thim but give me a land where ye don't
tell th' time iv day be th' almynac.
"But other people is diff'rent. Th' boldest Artic explorer is a
man that's made his money out iv sellin' base-burnin' stoves an'
has chillblains in July. Such a man is niver continted till he's
started somebody off f'r th' northest north. An' he has no throuble
to find a man. Nex' to bein' invited on a private yacht to sail
in th' Middyteranyan, th' nicest thing a millyonaire can do f'r
ye is to make an Artic explorer iv ye. Th' prelim'naries is great
spoort. F'r two years ye go round th' counthry letchrin' on 'What
I will see in th' Artic regions whin I get there if at all.' Fin'lly
ye set off with th' fleet, consistin' iv a ship f'r ye'ersilf,
three f'r th' provisions, two f'r th' clothes an' wan f'r th'
diaries. They'se also a convoy. Th' business iv th' convoy is
to dhrop in at Thromsoe in Norway an' ast f'r news iv ye. Thromsoe
is wan iv th' farthest north places that anny explorer has been.
But it well repays a visit, bein' a thrivin', bustlin' Swede city
with a good club. Afther th' long sthruggle with th' pitiliss ice
machine it is very pleasant to dhrop in on this hospital community
an' come back that night be thrain. Well, as I was sayin', wan
explorer starts off in a fur suit an' has th' time iv his life an'
th' other explorer stays at home an' suffers th' crool hardships
an' bitther disapp'intments iv life in Brooklyn. Lashed to his
rockin' chair, he shivers ivry time th' wind blows an' he thinks
iv his hardy partner facin' th' purls iv that far-off region iv
ice an' snow an' funny little Esqueemo women in union garments iv
fur. 'He's in Greenland now; he's battlin' with th' deadly ice
floe; now he's rasslin' with a Polar bear; he's up; he's away;
he's reached th' Pole; he's pullin' it up be th' roots; bravo
Baldy!' An' so he goes till his hands is all chapped fr'm thinkin'
iv th' cold an' his leg is lame fr'm th' encounther with a Polar
bear an' his rockin' chair is in danger iv bein' dashed to pieces
again' th' threacherous pianny. An' wan day a message comes fr'm
th' other explorer: 'Rio Janeiro. We have rayturned, baffled but
not defeated. Th' pickled walnuts give out befure we reached th'
West Indies. As far as we've gone we've had excellent raysults.
Th' cap'n, th' mate, th' cook, th' stewart an' eighty per cint iv
th' crew is in ir'ns an' as soon as I've got this tillygram off
I'm goin' in to punch th' surgeon. I congratylate ye. Ye'er name
will stand high among th' binnyfactors iv science. We have
demonsthrated beyond fear iv conthrydiction that th' gulf sthream
is jus' where it was an' that volcanoes ain't what they are cracked
up to be. Our motto is: "Niver give up th' ship. It's too
comfortable." Who's ye'er banker here?' Whin th' millyionaire dies
iv exposure, a victim to science, th' mariner rayturns an' letchers
on th' subject: 'Quarrels I have had in th' frozen north.' Talk
about th' terrors, iv Artic exploration, Hinnissy! There's where
ye get thim. Did ye iver go to an Artic exploration letcher? I
did wanst. They was wan down at th' brothers' school las' winther.
I've been lame iver since.
"None iv it in mine, if ye plaze. It's too hot wurrik in thim
clothes. An' aven if ye get up near th' pole, what's it good f'r?
Th' climate is disagreeable, an' th' s'ciety is monotonous.
Ivrybody dhresses alike. Th' wan tailor makes th' clothes f'r
pah, mah, Lucille an' th' Polar bear out iv th' same patthern.
If ye go to coort a girl, ye don't know befure she speaks whether
'tis hersilf or her Uncle Mike. I heerd iv an Artic explorer wanst
that held hands with a Swede sicond mate f'r over an hour befure
he ralized his mistake.
"No, sir, no Artic explorations f'r me, ayether pers'nally or be
check. But if I did go into it, I know who I'd sind. I'd not
fool around with people who begin to cough within sight iv th' car
barns. I'd utilize th' folks in th' neighborhood. I'd pathronize
home industhries. Th' Pole f'r th' polars, says I. They mus' be
hundherds iv la-ads up in that part iv th' wurruld that'd be
willin' to earn an honest dollar be discoverin' th' pole. With
thim 'twud be like ye goin' down to explore th' stock yards. I
bet manny iv thim knows th' pole as well as I know Haley's slough.
Ye'd prob'ly find they've hung their washin' on it f'r years an'
manny iv th' kids has shinned up it."
"Who'd ye sind?" asked Mr. Hennessy.
"Esqueemos," said Mr. Dooley.