UNQUALIFIED TRIUMPH OF BUNKUM, STATISTICS AND
AVERAGES.—EVERYTHING AND EVERYBODY “ALL RIGHT.”—THIN
AND HUNGRY HONEST LABOR TESTIFIES.—HIS HEAD
SWELLS.—SHOWS THAT A GREAT DEAL OF RICH PATRIOTISM CAN
BE RAISED ON A VERY SMALL AMOUNT OF POOR VICTUALS.
WILHELM Bunkum Mak Tinley’s oration made a profound impression. Upon
assembled fleas there fell a peace as of an undisturbed sea, a sweet
consciousness that at last, all danger from dog-thinking was safely
over. The Bamboozling Committee beamed and winked at each other in
silent ecstasy. And as for the dogs, nothing like their satisfaction
ever was before seen. Mak Tinley’s magnificent effort had done the job.
There was in it an array of facts and figures that carried conviction
home to their hearts and consciences. Poetry, imagery and gush the
others had given—which was all very delightful—but he had risen to
the needs of the times. They were hungry and wasted, and he had opened
the granary of his brilliant imagination, and had poured out upon them
some real, genuine, solid, substantial, and stomach filling Statistics
and Averages, that put new life and soul into them. They danced and
howled with joy; they hugged and kissed each other, and blessed God for
Mak Tinley, the Stomach Filler. One meagre and unkempt dog cried, “Three
cheers for Mak Tinley, Statistics and Averages,” which all the dogs
gave. Then another meagre dog yelled, “Hurrah for our Country and Flag,
the finest in the world,” and all the dogs hurrahed, the pretty cloths
were fluttered on high, the loud-noise-producing instruments were blown
and banged and thumped, and at the word “Flag,” all the fleas arose and
made prosternation.
Then a large, thin and lanky dog, with hungry eyes, jumped up and
demanded that three cheers be rendered unto the Bamboozling Committee;
which were no sooner given than he inquired with great and strident
solicitude, “What is the matter with Harry Grandadhat?” And the whole
assembly of dogs and fleas, before Grandadhat had time to reply on
his own behalf, thundered out in one mighty chorus, “He’s all right;”
to which some one, who had evidently not heard who was referred to,
inquired, “Who’s all right?” to which again the whole assembly,
very courteously and obligingly, responded in chorus: “Why, Harry
Grandadhat.” All which catechism seemed, for some deep and inscrutable
reason, to cause a perfect delirium of joy. And the delirium spread and
waxed until nothing was heard or seen but the chorused catechism, three
cheers for everything and everybody, the hubbub of the wind and thump
instruments, the waving of the pretty cloths, and the dogs tearing madly
around, howling, standing on their heads, rolling on the ground, and
leaping over each other for joy and gladness.
At last the tempest lulled, and the Blatherskite stepped forward and
said, “Brethren, now is the accepted time; now is the day of testimony.
In this hour of softened splendor and outpouring upon us all of the holy
spirit of patriotism, if there is any dog here that feels it borne in
upon his soul to testify, let him step up, and the Lord be with him.”
Then stepped up the large and lanky dog of the hungry eyes, lolling out
his tongue and panting with his recent great exertions, and feebly
tottered up the eminence to testify. But before he commenced, Chancy
Mountebank Dephool Flea got hold of him, and demanded of him his name,
that he might introduce him. Then Dephool Flea stepped forward and said,
“Dogs and fellow citizens: This respected citizen says his name is
Honest Labor, and that he desires to say what the Flag has done for his
soul. Oh, fellow citizens, I need not tell you that such as he are the
pride and strength of our common country, that it is to him and the
Lowly Toiler, that the grandeur, magnificence and superbity of our
material prosperity are due. Let us all gratefully remember that without
him and his unceasing toil, this country had not been; that to him are
we beholden for a large part—if not the largest part—of our wealth;
that our brain, without his diligent paw, would have been absolutely
useless; that in the upbuilding of this great country, he was the
greatest factor, and that to him we look for its defence, its
perpetuity.
“And I may say that it is our pride that this is _a_ country, this is
THE country, this the ONLY country in the world, where Honest Labor
is held in honor; yea, in reverence; yea, that is crowned with glory
and honor, and given first place in our esteem, and——” Here a loud
voice came from afar off in the crowd, “First place at the grub basket
would suit him better,” followed by great confusion, alarm, and a great
rush of police dogs that way, and a sound of thumped heads. The fleas
looked anxious, and the Bamboozlers uneasy, and Andronicus Carnivorous,
scenting danger, sidled off. Dephool Flea was much discumfuzzled, and
nearly lost his cherubic smile; but he heroically held up his end, and
continued:
“As I was saying, other effete countries have their kings and lords;
but here we recognize no king, but Honest Labor [great cheers and
restoration of confidence], no order of nobility but that of Humble
Toil; and in no country does Honest Labor get so large a share of his
own product, or hold his head so high with the conscious pride of his
own worth. I have the proud honor and precious privilege of introducing
him.”
During all this speech, it was noticed that poor Honest Labor was
changing visibly. At first his hungry eye grew bright, and his nostrils
distended; and as the eloquence waxed in tumidity and turgidity, his
head was lifted up and began to swell and swell, and at the crowning
reference to his coronation as a king, it took a sudden and mighty
inflation that made his body and legs look ridiculously thin and small
and spindling by comparison.
“What thinkest thou of our Chancy now?” said Harry Grandadhat, to his
dear friend, the Holy One a Maker of long prayers, as he pointed to the
Phenomenon.
“Called and chosen, called and chosen,” replied One a Maker of prayers,
“God hath indeed given unto him great talents.”
“The Bamboozle prospereth indeed,” said Mak Tinley, and tipping the wink
to the Monstrous Fleas, he whispered to one of the nearest of them,
whose name was Shikago Pigsfoot, “Brother, merrily will go the Blood and
Bones Mill after this.”
“Yes, yes,” replied Shikago Pigsfoot, “the last drop of blood shall
be squeezed out of them. I am famishing to see the Mill going again,
it seems an awful loss to waste a whole day when every tiny drop of
blood is so precious to us; but I suppose this bamboozle is all for our
ultimate good. Oh, that to-morrow were here and the Mill going!”
Then stepped forward Honest Labor, and having made obeisance to the
Flag, as he had seen the flea speakers do, he spake:
“Feller dogs; this is the proudest moment of my life. Feller dogs, you
mustn’t expect a fine speech from me, for as I was born poor and hungry,
I had to turn out at eight months old to scratch for bones to eke out
the family living. Consequently, I haint had no eddication. My father,
whose name was Lowly Toil, and is dead now, having been taken off early
by a mysterious epidemic called ‘Vacuity of the Alimentary Canal,’
that was going about at that time, was always too poor to give me any
eddication; but, bless the Lord, he gave me what is far better—he early
planted in my youthful breast the love of country. Says he to me, says
he, he says, ‘Honny, this ’ere’s your Country and that there’s your
Flag, and you’ll never get such another Country with such another Flag
on it, if you sarch the earth over. It’s the finest Country and the
finest Flag that ever was or ever will be, and don’t you forget it.’
[Burst of applause from the fleas and dogs too.] Says I to him, says
I, I says, ‘Father, I never will; come dark, come light, come weal,
come woe, come anything, I’ll never go back on my Country and my Flag.’
[Tempest of cheers.]
“And I never have. This is God’s country. [Cheers from the fleas.] It
is a free country. [Cheers.] It is the poor dog’s country. [Cheers on
cheers from the fleas and dogs too.] Everybody says so. The foreign dogs
from over the pond say so. Where will you find a country that gives
the honest worker so good a living? [Immense cheering by the fleas.]
Where will you find a country that gives such ‘constant employment?’
And pays such ‘high wages?’ [Cheers from the fleas, and “Aye, that’s
the question,” from the Bamboozlers.] Where so many dogs have snug bank
accounts? Where Statistics give dogs such a high Average of victuals to
eat? [Immense cheers and cries of “Hurrah for Mak Tinley.” ] Where there
is such a wide ‘diffusion of comfort and content?’ [Cheers, and “Hurrah
for Grandadhat.” ] Where will you find a country as gives such chances
for poor and honest dogs to get on and come to the Great Transformation?
[Great cheers.]
“Look at Carnivorous; he was poor and honest once, and _now_ look
at him. And he aint the only one. Look at our _Gold Jays_, our
_Rollefeckers_, our _Armorses_, our _Makkizes_, our _Bandervilts_, our
_Pimples_, our _Carbuncles_, our _Corns_, our _Warts_, our _Bunions_;
all poor and honest once, and now see what they are. I tell you, feller
dogs, there never was a Country and a Flag as gave the poor and honest
such grand chances to get on and become something totally different.
Look at our Blood and Bones Grindery! Why, I am told that if any of our
free and happy Handle turners were to go over the pond, and get a job in
them foreign pauper labor grinderies, they would be disgusted with the
long hours and small pay. There the Monstrous Fleas actually demand that
every dog give a whole leg to the hopper, before he can get a place at
the Handle, and is, moreover, bound to serve seven years before he can
leave his job. But here, in this free country, a dog has only got to
contribute two or three toes, and is free to leave his job whenever he
chooses. [Wonderful cheering.]
[Illustration]
“Everything in this glorious country is away ahead of the old countries.
Even the rags of the dogs here look more respectable than there; and as
for poverty, such a thing is not known here, for if a dog have neither
food, nor kennel, nor where to lay his head, he can look up and thank
God that he has a Country and a Flag.
“I grind at the Handle nineteen hours a day, and I have given four toes
to the hopper; but I thank God that I might be far worse off. Often I
am hungry, very hungry, but I thank God that I might be hungrier. I am
contented. It is the duty of dogs to be contented [applause from the
Monstrous Fleas,] a dog that is always growling about his lot, is a
nuisance to himself and everybody else. God don’t love him, the Church
don’t respect him, and his employers hate him.”
Here all the Bamboozlers arose and patted him on the back, and the
Blatherskite turned to the assembly and said, “Behold, a model citizen.
Blessed are the contented, for when they die the gates of Heaven shall
swing wide open to let them in.”
Continuing, Honest Labor said, “It is the duty of every dog to stick up
for the country that gives him employment and keeps wages as high as
they are. The only thing we have to fear, is that them foreign pauper
dogs from over the pond, envious of our great prosperity, will come
crowding over here, and tempt our employers to cut down our wages. But
I am convinced that all our eminent, wealthy and Monstrous Fleas, led
on and sustained by such friends of ours as Carnivorous, Phrique, Mak
Tinley, Dephool Flea, Webbfoot, and others, would make a tremendous
fight against that temptation before they would yield. Therefore, I say,
three times three cheers for our Country, our Institutions, and our
Flag, the freest, finest and grandest in the world.”
The burst of applause that followed this simple eloquence was deafening.
The wind and bang instruments struck up, the dogs ranted and raved, the
Bamboozling Committee stood on their heads with delight and all the
fleas beamed with silent ecstasy.