"But what do I know about it, annyhow? What do I know about annything? I've been pitchin' information into ye f'r more years thin anny wan iver wint to colledge, an' I tell ye now I don't know annything about annything. I don't like to thrust mesilf forward. I'm a modest man. Won't somebody else get up? Won't ye get up, Tiddy Rosenfelt; won't ye, Willum Jennings Bryan; won't ye, Prisidint Eliot; won't ye, pro-fissors, preachers, doctors, lawyers, iditors? Won't annybody get up? Won't annybody say that they don't know annything about annything worth knowin' about? Thin, be Hivens, I will. All alone I'll stand up befure me class an' say: 'Hinnissy, about annything that can't be weighed on a scales or measured with a tape line I'm as ign'rant as--ye'ersilf. I'll have to pay ye back th' money I took fr'm ye f'r ye'er schoolin'. It was obtained be false pretences.' "How can I know annything, whin I haven't puzzled out what I am mesilf. I am Dooley, ye say, but ye're on'y a casual obsarver. Ye don't care annything about me details. Ye look at me with a gin'ral eye. Nawthin' that happens to me really hurts ye. Ye say, 'I'll go over to see Dooley,' sometimes, but more often ye say, 'I'll go over to Dooley's.' I'm a house to ye, wan iv a thousand that look like a row iv model wurrukin'men's cottages. I'm a post to hitch ye'er silences to. I'm always about th' same to ye. But to me I'm a millyon Dooleys an' all iv thim sthrangers to ME. I niver know which wan iv thim is comin' in. I'm like a hotel keeper with on'y wan bed an' a millyon guests, who come wan at a time an' tumble each other out. I set up late at night an' pass th' bottle with a gay an' careless Dooley that hasn't a sorrow in th' wurruld, an' suddenly I look up an' see settin' acrost fr'm me a gloomy wretch that fires th' dhrink out iv th' window an' chases me to bed. I'm just gettin' used to him whin another Dooley comes in, a cross, cantankerous, crazy fellow that insists on eatin' breakfast with me. An' so it goes. I know more about mesilf than annybody knows an' I know nawthin'. Though I'd make a map fr'm mem'ry an' gossip iv anny other man, f'r mesilf I'm still uncharted.