“In th' ol' times whin I was a yachtsman--” began Mr. Dooley.
“Scowman,” said Mr. Hennessy.
“Yachtsman,” said Mr. Dooley. “Whin I was a yachtsman, all a man needed
to race was a flat-bottomed boat, an umbrella, an' a long dhrink. In
thim days 'twas 'Up with th' mainsail an' out with th' jib, an' Cap'n
Jawn first to th' Lake View pumpin' station f'r th' see-gars.' Now 'tis
'Ho, f'r a yacht race. Lave us go an' see our lawyers.' 'Tis 'Haul away
on th' writ iv ne exeat,' an' 'Let go th' peak capias.' 'Tis 'Pipe all
hands to th' Supreme Coort.' 'Tis 'A life on th' boundin' docket an' a
home on th' rowlin' calendar.' Befure we die, Sir Lipton'll come over
here f'r that Cup again an' we'll bate him be gettin' out an overnight
injunction. What's th' use iv buildin' a boat that's lible to tip an'
spill us all into th' wet? Turn th' matther over to th' firm iv Wiggins,
Schultz, O'Mally, Eckstein, Wopoppski, Billotti, Gomez, Olson, an'
McPherson, an' lave us have th' law on him.”
“I don't suppose, Hinnissy, I ought to be gettin' off me little jokes
on a seeryous matther like this. What's it all about, says ye? Well, ye
see, 'tis this way. Wanst befure th' war some la-ad fr'm this counthry
took a boat acrost th' Atlantic an' run it again an English boat an' iv
coorse, he won, not bein' tied to th' dock, an' they give him a Cup. I
don't know why they give him a cup, but they give him a cup. He brought
it back here an' handed it to a yacht club, which is an assocyation,
Hinnissy, iv mimbers iv th' Bar. He says: 'Ye keep that cup on ye'er
mantle-piece an' if e'er an Englishman wants it, don't ye give it to
him.' Afther awhile, an Englishman that ownded a boat come afther th'
cup, an 'twas lave go altogether, an' th' las' man to th' line knows
what he is. He's an Englishman, iv coorse. That was all r-right too. But
th' time come whin th' lagal pro-fission took a hand in th' game. 'Look
here,' says they. 'Ye've vilated nearly all th' statues iv th' State
iv Noo Jarsey already,' they says, 'an' if ye ain't careful, ye'll be
hauled up f'r contimpt iv coort,' they says. So they took th' matther
in hand an' dhrew up th' r-right pa-apers. 'State iv Noo York, county
iv Cook, s. s. Know all men be these prisints. To all magisthrates an'
polis officers, greetin.' In re Sir Lipton again th' Cup. Ordhered that
if Sir Lipton shall secure said Cup fr'm aforesaid (which he won't) he
must build a boat as follows: Wan hundherd an' twinty chest, fifty-four
waist, hip an' side pockets, carryin' three hundherd an' sixty-three
thousan' cubic feet iv canvas; th' basement iv th' boat to be papered in
green with yellow flowered dado, open plumbin', steam heat throughout,
th' tinant to pay f'r all repairs. Be means iv this infernal machine, if
enable to kill off th' rile fam'ly, he will attimpt to cross th' stormy
Atlantic, an' if successful, will arrive at th' risidince iv th' party
of th' first part, said John Doe. Wanst there, he will consult with
mimbers iv th' Noo York Bar Association, who will lead him to a firm iv
competent expert accountants, who will give him his time, which is two
minyits measured be th' invarse ratio iv th' distance fr'm th' binnacle
to th' cook-stove, an' fr'm th' cook-stove, east be north to th'
bowspirit. He will thin take his foolish boat down th' bay, an' if he
keeps his health, he can rayturn to th' grocery business, f'r he's a
jolly good fellow which nobody can deny.'
“Ye can see this, Hinnissy, that yachtin' has become wan iv thl larned
pro-fissions. 'Tis that that got th' la-ad fr'm Boston into it. They's a
jolly Jack Tar f'r ye. In dhrawin' up a lease or framin' a bond, no
more gallant sailor rides th' waves thin hearty Jack Larsen iv th'
Amalgamated Copper Yacht Club. 'What ho?' says he. 'If we're goin' to
have a race,' he says, 'shiver me timbers if I don't look up th' law,'
he says. So he become a yachtsman. 'But,' says th' Noo York la-ads,
thim that has th' Cup on their mantel-piece, 'Ye can race on'y on two
conditions.' 'What ar-re they?' says Larsen. 'Th' first is that ye
become a mimber iv our club.' 'With pleasure,' says he. 'Ye can't,' says
they. 'An' havin' complied with this first condition, ye must give us
ye'er boat,' says they. 'We don't want it,' they says. 'Th' terms suit
me entirely,' says Cap. Larsen. 'I'm a simple sailor man an' I'll give
ye me boat undher th' following conditions,' he says. 'First, that ye
won't take it; second, that ye'll paint me name on th' side iv it in
red letters, three feet high; third, that ye'll inthra-jooce me to th'
Prince iv Wales; foorth, that I'll sail it mesilf. Nawthin',' he says,
'wud give me gr-reater pleasure thin to have me handsome an' expinsive
raft in th' hands iv men who I wud considher it an honor to know,' he
says. 'An' so,' he says, 'I'll on'y ask ye to sign a bond an' lave a
small security, say about five hundherd thousan' dollars, in me hands
in case anny paint shud be knocked off me boat,' he says. 'Yachtin' is
a gintleman's spoort,' he says, 'an' in dalin' with gintlemen,' he says,
'ye can't be too careful,' he says.”
“What's Sir Lipton doin' all this time?” asked Mr. Hennessy.
“He's preparin' his bond, makin' his will, an' goin' through th' other
lagal preliminaries iv th' race. He's built a boat too. Th' King of
England was aboord iv her, an' he was near killed, be havin' a mast
fall on him. Th' Lord knows how he escaped. A mass iv steel weighin' a
hundherd thousan' ton fell on his Majesty an' bounced off. Sir Lipton
felt pretty bad about it. He didn't mind losin' a mast or two, but he
didn't want annywan to know he had th' king aboord. 'Twud hurt business.
'Boys,' says he to th' rayporthers, 'th' King's on me yacht. D'ye hear
me? Th' King's on me yacht. But don't say annything about it. I don't
want to have it known. Don't print it onless ye have to, an' thin put it
in an inconspicuous place, like th' first page. He's here sure enough,
boys. Th' mast just fell on his Majesty. It nearly kilt him. I'm not
sure it didn't kill him. He remained perfectly cool throughout. So did
I. I was almost cold. So did both iv us. But, mind not a wurrud iv this
in th' pa-apers.' I don't know how th' rayporthers got hold iv it. But
they're a pryin' lot.”
“How did th' mast come to fall?” asked Mr. Hennessy, eagerly. “D'ye
suppose Sir Lipton is wan iv us?”
“S-sh,” said Mr. Dooley, adding, softly, “he was bor-rn in Limerick.”