Dooley, Mr. (Fictitious character) -- Fiction; Irish Americans -- Fiction
"'To shift me language suddintly fr'm th' joolry counther an' th'
boodore, I will say that nawthin' that has been said even be th'
gifted an' scholarly sinitor, who so worthily fills part iv th'
place wanst crowded be Hendricks an' McDonald, does justice to th'
richness iv thim islands. They raise unknown quantities iv produce,
none iv which forchnitly can come into this counthry. All th'
riches iv Cathay, all th' wealth iv Ind, as Hogan says, wud look
like a second morgedge on an Apache wickeyup compared with th'
untold an' almost unmintionable products iv that gloryous domain.
Me business kept me in Manila or I wud tell ye what they are.
Besides some iv our lile subjects is gettin' to be good shots an'
I didn't go down there f'r that purpose.
"'I turn to th' climate. It is simply hivenly. No other wurrud
describes it. A white man who goes there seldom rayturns unless
th' bereaved fam'ly insists. It is jus' right. In winter enough
rain, in summer plinty iv heat. Gin'rally speakin' whin that
thropical sky starts rainin' it doesn't stop till it's impty, so
th' counthry is not subjected to th' sudden changes that afflict
more northerly climes. Whin it rains it rains; whin it shines it
shines. Th' wather frequently remains in th' air afther th' sun
has been shinin' a month or more, th' earth bein' a little overcrowded
with juice an' this gives th' atmosphere a certain cosiness that
is indescribable. A light green mould grows on th' clothes an'
is very becomin'. I met a man on th' boat comin' back who said
'twas th' finest winter climate in th' wurruld. He was be
profission a rubber in a Turkish bath. As f'r th' summers they
are delicious. Th' sun doesn't sit aloft above th' jools iv th'
Passyfic. It comes down an' mingles with th' people. Ye have
heard it said th' isles was kissed be th' sun. Perhaps bitten wud
be a betther wurrud. But th' timprachoor is frequently modified
be an eruption iv th' neighborin' volcanoes an' th' inthraduction
iv American stoves. At night a coolin' breeze fr'm th' crather
iv a volcano makes sleep possible in a hammock swung in th' ice-box.
It is also very pleasant to be able to cuk wan's dinner within wan.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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