“Well, sir, I guess I'm not up on etiket,” said Mr. Dooley.
“How's that?” demanded Mr. Hennessy.
“I've been readin' about Willum Waldorf Asthor,” replied Mr. Dooley,
“an' th' throuble he had with a la-ad that bummed his way into his
party. Ye see, Hinnissy, Willum Waldorf Asthor give a party at his
large an' commodjious house in London. That's where he lives--in
London--though he r-runs a hotel in New York, where ye can see half th'
state iv Ioway near anny night, they tell me. Well, he give this party
on a gran' scale, an' bought gr-reat slathers iv food an' dhrink,
an' invited th' neighbors an' the neighbors' childher. But wan man he
wudden't have. He's goin' over th' list iv th' people that's to come,
an' he says to his sicrety: 'Scratch that boy. Him an' me bump as we
pass by.' He didn't want this fellow, ye see, Hinnissy. I don't know
why. They was dissatisfaction between thim; annyhow, he says: 'Scratch
him,' an' he was out iv it.”
“Well, wan night, th' fellow was settin' down f'r a bite to eat with
Lady O----, an' Lady S----, an' Lady G----, an' Lady Y----, an' other
ladies that had lost their names, an' says wan iv thim, 'Cap,' she says,
'ar-re ye goin' to Asthor's doin's tonight?' she says. 'Not that I know
iv,' says th' Cap. 'He hasn't sint me anny wurrud that I'm wanted,' he
says. 'What differ does it make,' says th' lady. 'Write an invitation
f'r ye'rsilf on ye'er cuff an' come along with us,' says she. 'I'll do
it,' says the Cap, an' he sint f'r an automobile an' goes along.
“Well, ivrything was all r-right f'r awhile, an' th' Cap was assaultin'
a knuckle iv ham an' a shell iv beer, whin Willum Waldorf Asthor comes
up an' taps him on th' shoulder an' says: 'Duck.' 'What name?' says
th' Cap. 'Asthor,' says Willum. 'Oh,' says th' Cap, 'ye're th' American
gazabo that owns this hut,' he says. 'I am,' says Willum. 'I can't go,'
says th' Cap. 'Ye didn't ask me here an' ye can't sind me away,' he
says. 'Gossoon, another shell iv malt, an' dhraw it more slow,' he says.
'I am an English gintleman an' I know me rights,' he says. 'Dure or
window,' says Willum. 'Take ye'er choice,' he says. 'If ye insist,' says
th' Cap, 'I'll take th' dure,' he says, 'but ye don't know th' customs
iv civilization,' he says; an' th' hired man just grazed him on th' dure
sthep.
“Well, Willum Waldorf Asthor was that mad, he wint down to his pa-aper
office, an' says he, 'I want to put in an item,' he says, an' he put
it in. 'It is wished,' he says, 'to be apprihinded,' he says, 'be those
desirous not to have been misinformed,' he says, 'concarnin' th' recent
appearance iv Cap Sir Mills at me party,' he says, 'that 'twas not be me
that said Cap Sir Mills come to be on th' site,' he says, 'but rather,'
he says, 'through a desire on th' part iv Cap Sir Mills to butt into a
party to which his invitation was lost about three hours befure 'twas
written,' he says.”
“Well, now, ye'd think that was all right, wudden't ye? Ye'd say Asthor
acted mild whin he didn't take down his goold ice pick from th' wall
an' bate th' Cap over th' head. Th' Cap, though a ganial soul, had no
business there. 'Twas Willum Waldorf Asthor that paid f'r the ice cream
an' rented th' chiny. But that's where ye'd be wrong, an' that's where I
was wrong. Whin th' Prince iv Wales heerd iv it he was furyous. 'What,'
he says, 'is an English gintleman goin' to be pegged out iv dures be a
mere American be descent?' he says. 'A man,' he says, 'that hasn't
an entail to his name,' he says. 'An American's home in London is an
Englishman's castle,' he says. 'As th' late Earl iv Pitt said, th'
furniture may go out iv it, th' constable may enther, th' mortgage may
fall on th' rooned roof, but a thrue Englishman'll niver leave,' he
says, 'while they'se food an' dhrink,' he says. 'Willum Waldorf Asthor
has busted th' laws iv hospitality, an' made a monkey iv a lile subjick
iv th' queen,' he says. 'Hinceforth,' he says, 'he's ast to no picnics
iv th' Buckingham Palace Chowder Club,' he says. An' th' nex' day Willum
Waldorf Asthor met him at th' races where he was puttin' down a bit iv
money an' spoke to him, an' th' Prince iv Wales gave him wan in th' eye.
He must've had something in his hand, f'r the pa-aper said he cut him.
P'raps 'twas his scipter. An' now no wan'll speak to Willum Waldorf
Asthor, an' he's not goin' to be a jook at all, an' he may have to come
back here an' be nachurlized over again like a Bohamian. He's all broke
up about it. He's gone to Germany to take a bath.”
“Lord, help us,” said Mr. Hennessy, “can't he get wan nearer home?”
“It seems not,” said Mr. Dooley. “Mebbe the Prince iv Wales has had th'
wather cut off. He has a big pull with th' people in th' city hall.”