Did ye see what th' prisidint said to th' throlley man that bumped
him?" asked Mr. Dooley.
"I did not," said Mr. Hennessy. "What was it?"
"I can't tell ye till I get mad," said Mr. Dooley. "Lave us go
into ixicutive sission. Whisper. That was it. Ha, ha. He give
it to him sthraight. A good, honest, American blankety-blank.
Rale language like father used to make whin he hit his thumb with
th' hammer. No 'With ye'er lave' or 'By ye'er lave,' but a dacint
'Damn ye, sir,' an' a little more f'r th' sake iv imphasis.
"What else wud ye have him do? 'Twas nayether th' time nor th'
occasion, as th' candydate said whin they ast him where he got his
money, 'twas nayether th' time nor th' occasion f'r wurruds that
wud be well rayceived at Chatauqua. A throlley car had pushed him
an' diplomatic relations was suspinded. He was up on top iv a
bus, hurryin' fr'm speech to speech an' thinkin' what to say next.
'Th' thrusts,' says he to himsilf, ' are heejous monsthers built
up be th' inlightened intherprise iv th' men that have done so
much to advance pro-gress in our beloved counthry,' he says. 'On
wan hand I wud stamp thim undher fut; on th' other hand not so
fast. What I want more thin th' bustin' iv th' thrusts is to see
me fellow counthrymen happy an' continted. I wudden't have thim
hate th' thrusts. Th' haggard face, th' droopin' eye, th' pallid
complexion that marks th' inimy iv thrusts is not to me taste.
Lave us be merry about it an' jovial an' affectionate. Lave us
laugh an' sing th' octopus out iv existence. Betther blue but
smilin' lips anny time thin a full coal scuttle an' a sour heart.
As Hogan says, a happy peasanthry is th' hope iv th' state. So
lave us warble ti-lire-a-lay--' Jus' thin Euclid Aristophanes
Madden on th' quarther deck iv th' throlley car give a twisht to
his brake an' th' chief ixicutive iv th' nation wint up in th' air
with th' song on his lips. He wint up forty, some say, fifty feet.
Sicrety Cortilloo says three hundherd an' fifty. Annyhow whin he
come down he landed nachrally on his feet.
"Now, Hinnissy, no matther what a man may've been wan minyit befure
he was hit be a throlley car, a minyit afther he's on'y a man.
Th' throlley car plays no fav'rites. It bounces th' high an' th'
low alike. It tears th' exalted fr'm their throne an' ilivates
th' lowly. So whin th' prisidint got back to the earth he wasn't
prisidint anny longer but Tiddy Rosenfelt, 180 pounds iv a man.
An' he done accordin'ly. If it'd been Willum Jennings Bryan,
he'd've ast th' throlley engineer was he a mimber iv th' Union.
If he cud show a wurrukin' card he was entitled to bump anny wan.
At worst Willum Jennings Bryan wud've written an article about
him in th' Commoner, or if he felt unusually vindicative, maybe
he'd sind it to him through th' mails. Whin Sicrety Cortilloo
come to fr'm a dhream that he'd jus' rayfused a favor to Sinitor
Tillman, he hauled out a little note book an' got ready to take
down something that cud be put on th' thransparencies two years
fr'm now--something like--'No power on earth can stop American
business entherprise.' But nawthin' that will iver be printed in
th' first reader dhropped fr'm th' lips iv th' chief exicutive.
With two jumps he was in th' throlley man's hair an' spoke as
follows--No, I won't say it again. But I'll tell ye this much, a
barn-boss that was standin' by an' heerd it, said he niver befure
regretted his father hadn't sint him to Harvard.
"We know what Wash'nton said to his gin'rals an' what Grant said
to Lee an' what Cleveland said to himsilf. They're in th' books.
But engraved in th' hearth iv his counthrymen is what Rosenfelt
said to th' throlley man. 'Twas good because 'twas so nachral.
Most iv th' sayin's I've read in books sounds as though they was
made be a patent inkybator. They go with a high hat an' a white
tie. Ye can hear th' noise iv th' phonygraft. But this here jim
of emotion an' thought come sthraight fr'm th' heart an' wint right
to th' heart. That's wan reason I think a lot iv us likes Tiddy
Rosenfelt that wudden't iver be suspicted iv votin' f'r him. Whin
he does anny talkin'--which he sometimes does--he talks at th' man
in front iv him. Ye don't hear him hollerin' at posterity.
Posterity don't begin to vote till afther th' polls close. So whin
he wished to convey to th' throlley man th' sintimints iv his bosom,
he done it in wurruds suited to th' crisis, as Hogan wud say. They
do say his remarks singed th' hair off th' head iv th' unforchnit
man.
"I don't believe in profanity, Hinnissy--not as a reg'lar thing.
But it has its uses an' its place. F'r instance, it is issintial
to some thrades. No man can be a printer without swearin'. 'Tis
impossible. I mind wanst I wint to a printin' office where a frind
iv mine be th' name iv Donovan held cases an' I heerd th' foreman
say: 'What gintleman is setting A thirty?' he says. 'I am,' says
a pale aristocrat with black whiskers who was atin' tobacco in th'
rear iv th' room. 'Thin,' says th' foreman, 'ye blankety-blank
blacksmith, get a move on ye. D'ye think this is a annyooal
incyclopejee?' he says. Ivrybody swore at ivrybody else. Th'
little boys runnin' around with type prattled innocent pro-fanity
an' afther awhile th' iditor come in an' he swore more thin annybody
else. But 'twas aisy to see he'd not lamed th' thrade iv printer.
He swore with th' enthusyasm an' inacc'racy iv an amachoor, though
I mus' say, he had his good pints. I wisht I cud raymimber what
it was he called th' Czar iv Rooshya f'r dyin' jus' as th' pa-aper
was goin' to press. I cud've often used it since. But it's slipped
me mind.
"Swearin' belongs to some thrades,--like printin', bricklayin' an'
plumbin'. It is no help at all, at all to tailors, shoemakers,
hair-dressers, dintists or authors. A surgeon needs it but a
doctor niver. It is a great help in unloadin' a ship an' sailor
men always swear--th' cap'n an' mate whin wurruk is goin' on an'
th' men befure th' mast at meals. Sojers mus' swear. They'se no
way out iv it. It's as much th' equipment iv a sojer as catridges.
In vigorous spoort it is niciss'ry but niver at checkers or chess
an' sildom at dominoes. Cowboys are compelled to use it. No wan
cud rope a cow or cinch a pony without swearin'. A sthrick bringin'
up is th' same as havin' a wooden leg on th' plains. Profanity
shud be used sparingly if at all on childher--especially girls--an'
sildom on women, though I've knowed an occasional domestic: 'Damn
ye'er eyes' to wurruk wondhers in reg-latin' a fam'ly. Women can't
swear. They have th' feelin' but not th' means. Westhern men
swear betther thin Eastern men though I mus' say th' mos' lib'ral
swearers I iver knew come fr'm Boston.
"But it don't do to use pro-fanity th' way ye wud ordin'ry wurruds.
No, sir. Ye've got to save it up an' invist it at th' right time
or get nawthin' fr'm it. It's betther thin a doctor f'r a stubbed
toe but it niver cured a broken leg. It's a kind iv a first aid
to th' injured. It seems to deaden th' pain. Women an' childher
cry or faint whin they're hurt. That's because they haven't th'
gift iv swearin'. But as I tell ye, they'se no good wastin' it.
Th' man that swears at ivrything has nawthin' to say when rale
throubles come. I hate to hear annywan spillin' out th' valyable
wurruds that he ought to save to be used whin th' shtove-pipe comes
down. Not that it shocks me. I'm a dimmycrat. But I know th'
foolish man is hurtin' himsilf. Put a little pro-fanity by f'r
rainy days, says I. Ye won't miss it an' at th' end iv th' year
whin ye renew ye'er lease ye'll be surprised to find out how much
ye have on hand. But if ye hurl it broadcast, if ivry time ye
open ye'er mouth a hot wan lapes out, th' time will come whin ye'll
want to say something scorchin' an' ye'll have nawthin' to say
that ye haven't said f'r fun. I'd as soon think iv swearin' f'r
pleasure as iv lindin' money f'r pleasure. They ain't too much
pro-fanity in th' wurruld. A good dale iv it has been used up
since th' coal sthrike begun. Th' govermint ought to presarve it
an' prevint annywan fr'm swearin' more thin was niciss'ry f'r to
support life.
"I niver knew Father Kelly to swear but wanst. 'Twas a little
wan, Hinnissy. Dhropped fr'm th' lips iv a polisman it wud've
sounded like a 'thank ye kindly.' But, be Hivins, whin I heerd it
I thought th' roof wud fall down on th' head iv Scanlan that he
was thryin' to show th' evil iv his ways. Melia Murdher, but it
was gran'! They was more varchue in that wan damn thin in a fastin'
prayer. Scanlan wint to wurruk th' nex' day an' he hasn't tasted
a dhrop since.
"But th' best thing about a little judicyous swearin' is that it
keeps th' temper. 'Twas intinded as a compromise between runnin'
away an' fightin'. Befure it was invinted they was on'y th' two
ways out iv an argymint."
"But I've heerd ye say a man was swearin' mad," said Mr. Hennessy.
"He wasn't fightin' mad, thin," said Mr. Dooley.