"What ar-re these Turkish athrocities I've been r-readin' about?" said
Mr. Hennessy.
"I don't know," said Mr. Dooley. "I don't keep thim. Have a cigar?"
VACATIONS
"Well, sir," said Mr. Dooley, "I raaly don't know whether I'm glad or
sorry to get back. It seems a little sthrange to be here again in the
turmoil iv life in a large city, but thin, again, 'tis pleasant to see
th' familyar faces wanst more. Has annything happened since I wint away
on me vacation? Did ye miss me? Am I much sunburnt?"
"What ar-re ye talkin' about?" asked Mr. Hennessy. "I see ye on'y last
night."
"Ye did not," said Mr. Dooley. "Ye may have seen me undherstudy, but ye
didn't see me. Where was I? It depinds on what time iv night it was. If
it was eight o'clock, I was croosin' in Pierpont Morgan's yacht off th'
coast iv Labrador. We were both iv us settin' up on th' front stoop iv
th' boat. I had just won thirty millyon dollars fr'm him throwin' dice,
an' he remarked to me 'I bet it's hot in Chicago.' But about eight
thirty, th' wind, which had been blowin' acrost th' brick-yard, changed
into th' northeast an' I moved back to Newpoort."
"Ar-re ye crazy fr'm th' heat?" Mr. Hennessy asked.
"Divvle th' bit," said Mr. Dooley, "but long ago I made up me mind not
to be th' slave iv me vacation. I don't take a vacation whin a vacation
comes around an' knocks at th' dure an' dhrags me out to a summer
resort. If I did I'd wait a long time. I take it whiniver I feel like
it. Whiniver I have a moment to spare, whin ye're talkin' or business is
slack fr'm anny other reason, I throw a comb an' brush into a gripsack
an' hurry away to th' mountain or th' seashore. While ye think ye're
talkin' to me, at that very minyit I may be floatin' on me back in th'
Atlantic ocean or climbin' a mountain in Switzerland, yodellin' to
mesilf.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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