ght dollars an hour what he's took in.

"Glory be, whin I look back fr'm this day iv gin'ral rejoicin' in me
rhinestone jubilee, an' see what changes has taken place an' how manny
people have died an' how much betther off th' wurruld is, I'm proud iv
mesilf. War an' pest'lence an' famine have occurred in me time, but I
count thim light compared with th' binifits that have fallen to th' race
since I come on th' earth."

"What ar-re ye talkin' about?" cried Mr. Hennessy, in deep disgust. "All
this time ye've been standin' behind this bar ladlin' out disturbance to
th' Sixth Wa-ard, an' ye haven't been as far east as Mitchigan Avnoo in
twinty years. What have ye had to do with all these things?"

"Well," said Mr. Dooley, "I had as much to do with thim as th' queen."

ON THE CURRENCY QUESTION.

"There's some tough knots in this here currency question," said Mr.
McKenna. "A lot of things I don't quite catch."

"Cough thim up," said Mr. Dooley. "I'm a reg'lar caddychism iv coinage.
Who made ye? Gawd made me. Why did he make ye? F'r to know Him, love
Him, an' sarve Him all me days. That's th' way iv th' caddychism I
learned whin I was a la-ad behind a hedge; but now 'tis: Who made ye?
Ladenburg, Thalman an' Comp'ny made me. Why did they make ye? F'r to
know thim, love thim, an' sarve thim all me days. O-ho!"

"That's all r-right," said Mr. Thomas Larkin, the Kerry horseshoer, who
was leaning over the cigar-case, reading what Mr. Lincoln, Mr. Blaine,
Mr. Edward Atkinson, and Mr. Andrew D. White had to say in a small
pamphlet. "That's all r-right, Martin. But ye're talkin' like a Populist
an' an anarchist an' a big bullhead gen'rally. Ye bring up two or three
Jew men, an' think f'r to scare us with thim. But look here. Supposin' a
man comes into my place an' lays down on th' anvil a silver dollar, an'
I give it a wallop with me hammer"--

"Thin," said Mr. Dooley, "ye're knockin' th' gover'mint."

"How am I?" said Mr. Larkin. "Niver mind now: I take this here silver
dollar, an' I fetch it wan with me hammer. What happens?"

"Th' man that give ye th' dollar hands ye wan in th' nose," said Mr.
Dooley.

"Not at all, not at--all," said Mr. Larkin. "I take this here mutilated
an' disfigured an' bum dollar down to th' three-asury, an' I hand it in;
an' Carlisle says, 'What kind iv an ol' piece iv mud is this ye're
flingin' at me?' he says. 'Take it away: it's nawthin' to me.'"

"True for you, Larkin," said Mr. McKe