Dooley, Mr. (Fictitious character) -- Fiction; Irish Americans -- Fiction
"Annyhow, I was rayceived with open arms that sometimes ended in
a clinch. I was afraid I wasn't goin' to assimilate with th'
airlyer pilgrim fathers an' th' instichoochions iv th' counthry,
but I soon found that a long swing iv th' pick made me as good
as another man an' it didn't require a gr-reat intellect, or
sometimes anny at all, to vote th' dimmycrat ticket, an' befure
I was here a month, I felt enough like a native born American to
burn a witch. Wanst in a while a mob iv intilligint collajeens,
whose grandfathers had bate me to th' dock, wud take a shy at me
Pathrick's Day procission or burn down wan iv me churches, but
they got tired iv that befure long; 'twas too much like wurruk.
"But as I tell ye, Hinnissy, 'tis diff'rent now. I don't know why
'tis diff'rent but 'tis diff'rent. 'Tis time we put our back
again' th' open dure an' keep out th' savage horde. If that cousin
iv ye'ers expects to cross, he'd betther tear f'r th' ship. In a
few minyits th' gates 'll be down an' whin th' oppressed wurruld
comes hikin' acrost to th' haven iv refuge, they'll do well to put
a couplin' pin undher their hats, f'r th' Goddess iv Liberty 'll
meet thim at th' dock with an axe in her hand. Congress is goin'
to fix it. Me frind Shaughnessy says so. He was in yisterdah an'
says he: ''Tis time we done something to make th' immigration laws
sthronger,' says he. 'Thrue f'r ye, Miles Standish,' says I; 'but
what wud ye do?' 'I'd keep out th' offscourin's iv Europe,' says
he. 'Wud ye go back?' says I. 'Have ye'er joke,' says he. ''Tis
not so seeryus as it was befure ye come,' says I. 'But what ar-re
th' immygrants doin' that's roonous to us?' I says.
'Well,' says he, 'they're arnychists,' he says; 'they don't
assymilate with th' counthry,' he says. 'Maybe th' counthry's
digestion has gone wrong fr'm too much rich food,' says I; 'perhaps
now if we'd lave off thryin' to digest Rockyfellar an' thry a
simple diet like Schwartzmeister, we wudden't feel th' effects iv
our vittels,' I says. 'Maybe if we'd season th' immygrants a
little or cook thim thurly, they'd go down betther,' I says.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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