Part 17 (1/2)

”Gin'ral Sherman was wan iv th' smartest men we iver had,” said Mr.

Dooley. ”He said so manny bright things. 'Twas him said, 'War is h.e.l.l'; an' that's wan iv th' finest sayin's I know annything about. 'War is h.e.l.l': 'tis a thrue wurrud an' a fine sintiment. An' Gin'ral Sherman says, 'Th' on'y good Indyun is a dead Indyun.' An' that's a good sayin', too. So, be th' powers, we've started in again to improve th' race; an', if we can get in Gatlin' guns enough befure th' winter's snows, we'll tur-rn thim Chippeways into a cimitry branch iv th' Young Men's Christyan a.s.sociation. We will so.

”Ye see, Hinnissy, th' Indyun is bound f'r to give way to th' onward march iv white civilization. You an' me, Hinnissy, is th' white civilization. I come along, an' I find ol' Snakes-in-his-Gaiters livin'

quite an' dacint in a new frame house. Thinks I, ”Tis a shame f'r to lave this savage man in possession iv this fine abode, an' him not able f'r to vote an' without a frind on th' polis foorce.' So says I: 'Snakes,' I says, 'get along,' says I. 'I want ye'er house, an' ye best move out west iv th' thracks, an' dig a hole f'r ye'ersilf,' I says.

'Divvle th' fut I will step out iv this house,' says Snakes. 'I built it, an' I have th' law on me side,' he says. 'F'r why should I take Mary Ann, an' Terence, an' Honoria, an' Robert Immitt Snakes, an' all me little Snakeses, an' rustle out west iv th' thracks,' he says, 'far fr'm th' bones iv me ancestors,' he says, 'an beyond th' water-pipe extinsion,' he says. 'Because,' says I, 'I am th' walkin' dilygate iv white civilization,' I says. 'I'm jus' as civilized as you,' says Snakes. 'I wear pants,' he says, 'an' a plug hat,' he says. 'Ye might wear tin pair,' says I, 'an' all at wanst,' I says, 'an' ye'd still be a savage,' says I; 'an' I'd be civilized,' I says, 'if I hadn't on so much as a bangle bracelet,' I says. 'So get out,' says I. 'So get out,' says I, 'f'r th' pianny movers is outside, r-ready to go to wurruk,' I says.

”Well, Snakes he fires a stove lid at me; an' I go down to th' polis station, an' says I, 'Loot,' I says, 'they'se a dhrunken Indyun not votin' up near th' mills, an he's carryin' on outrageous, an' he won't let me hang me pitchers on his wall,' says I. 'Vile savage,' says th'

loot, 'I'll tache him to rayspict th' rules iv civilization,' he says.

An' he takes out a wagon load, an' goes afther Snakes. Well, me frind Snakes gives him battle, an', knowin' th' premises well, he's able to put up a gr-reat fight; but afther a while they rip him away, an' have him in th' pathrol wagon, with a man settin' on his head. An' thin he's put undher bonds to keep the peace, an' they sind him out west iv th'

thracks; an' I move into th' house, an' tear out th' front an' start a faro bank. Some day, whin I get tired or th' Swedes dhrive me out or Schwartzmeister makes his lunch too sthrong f'r compet.i.tion, I'll go afther Snakes again.

”Th' on'y hope f'r th Indyun is to put his house on rollers, an' keep a team hitched to it, an', whin he sees a white man, to start f'r th'

settin' sun. He's rooned whin he has a cellar. He ought to put all th'

plugged dollars that he gets from th' agent an' be pickin' blueberries into rowlin' stock. If he knew annything about balloons, he'd have a chanst; but we white men, Hinnissy, has all th' balloons. But, annyhow, he's doomed, as Hogan says. Th' onward march iv th' white civilization, with morgedges an' other modhern improvements, is slowly but surely, as Hogan says, chasin' him out; an' th' last iv him'll be livin' in a divin'-bell somewhere out in th' Pacific Ocean.”

”Well,” said Mr. Hennessy, the stout philanthropist, ”I think so, an'

thin again I dinnaw. I don't think we threat thim r-right. If I was th'

gover'mint, I'd take what they got, but I'd say, 'Here, take this tin-dollar bill an' go out an' dhrink ye'ersilf to death,' I'd say. They ought to have some show.”

”Well,” said Mr. Dooley, ”if ye feel that way, ye ought to go an' inlist as an Indyun.”

ON GOLF.

”An' what's this game iv goluf like, I dinnaw?” said Mr. Hennessy, lighting his pipe with much unnecessary noise. ”Ye're a good deal iv a spoort, Jawnny: did ye iver thry it?”

”No,” said Mr. McKenna. ”I used to roll a hoop onct upon a time, but I'm out of condition now.”

”It ain't like base-ball,” said Mr. Hennessy, ”an' it ain't like s.h.i.+nny, an' it ain't like lawn-teenis, an' it ain't like forty-fives, an' it ain't”--

”Like canvas-back duck or anny other game ye know,” said Mr. Dooley.

”Thin what is it like?” said Mr. Hennessy. ”I see be th' pa-aper that Hobart What-d'ye-call-him is wan iv th' best at it. Th' other day he made a scoor iv wan hundherd an' sixty-eight, but whether 'twas miles or st.i.tches I cudden't make out fr'm th' raypoorts.”

”'Tis little ye know,” said Mr. Dooley. ”Th' game iv goluf is as old as th' hills. Me father had goluf links all over his place, an', whin I was a kid, 'twas wan iv th' princ.i.p.al spoorts iv me life, afther I'd dug the turf f'r th' avenin', to go out and putt”--

”Poot, ye mean,” said Mr. Hennessy. ”They'se no such wurrud in th'

English language as putt. Belinda called me down ha-ard on it no more thin las' night.”

”There ye go!” said Mr. Dooley, angrily. ”There ye go! D'ye think this here game iv goluf is a spellin' match? 'Tis like ye, Hinnissy, to be refereein' a twinty-round glove contest be th' rule iv three. I tell ye I used to go out in th' avenin' an' putt me mas.h.i.+e like h.e.l.l-an'-all, till I was knowed fr'm wan end iv th' county to th' other as th'

champeen putter. I putted two men fr'm Roscommon in wan day, an' they had to be took home on a dure.

”In America th' ga-ame is played more ginteel, an' is more like cigareet-smokin', though less unhealthy f'r th' lungs. 'Tis a good game to play in a hammick whin ye're all tired out fr'm social duties or shovellin' c.o.ke. Out-iv-dure golf is played be th' followin' rules. If ye bring ye'er wife f'r to see th' game, an' she has her name in th'

paper, that counts ye wan. So th' first thing ye do is to find th'

raypoorter, an' tell him ye're there. Thin ye ordher a bottle iv brown pop, an' have ye'er second fan ye with a towel. Afther this ye'd dhress, an' here ye've got to be dam particklar or ye'll be stuck f'r th'

dhrinks. If ye'er necktie is not on sthraight, that counts ye'er opponent wan. If both ye an' ye'er opponent have ye'er neckties on crooked, th' first man that sees it gets th' stakes. Thin ye ordher a carredge”--