f'r Christmas, he goes to a harness shop
an' buys a box iv see-gars with excelsior fillin's an' burlap wrappers,
an', if I smoked wan an' lived, I'd be arristed f'r arson. I got a pair
iv suspinders wanst fr'm a lady,--niver mind her name,--an' I wurruked
hard that day; an' th' decorations moved back into me, an' I had to take
thim out with pumice stone. I didn't lose th' taste iv th' paint f'r
weeks an' weeks.

"Wan year I wanted a watch more thin annything in th' wurruld. I talked
watches to ivry wan that I thought had designs on me. I made it a pint
to ask me frinds what time iv night it was, an' thin say, 'Dear me, I
ought to get a watch if I cud affoord it.' I used to tout people down to
th' jooler's shop, an' stand be th' window with a hungry look in th'
eyes iv me, as much as to say, 'If I don't get a watch, I'll perish.' I
talked watches an' thought watches an' dhreamed watches. Father Kelly
rebuked me f'r bein' late f'r mass. 'How can I get there befure th'
gospil, whin I don't know what time it is?' says I. 'Why don't ye luk at
ye'er watch?' he says. 'I haven't none,' says I. Did he give me a watch?
Faith, he did not. He sint me a box iv soap that made me smell like a
coon goin' to a ball in a State Sthreet ca-ar. I got a necktie fr'm wan
man; an', if I wore it to a meetin' iv th' Young Hebrews' Char'table
Society, they'd've thrun me out. That man wanted me to be kilt. Another
la-ad sint me a silk handkerchief that broke on me poor nose. Th'
nearest I got to a watch was a hair chain that unravelled, an' made me
look as if I'd been curryin' a Shetland pony. I niver got what I wanted,
an I niver expect to. No wan does."

"I'll get ye what ye want," said Mr. Hennessy, "if ye'll tell me what it
is, an' it don't cost too much."

"Will ye?" said Mr. Dooley, eagerly.

"I will," said Mr. Hennessy, "if 'tis within me means."

"Ye're jokin'," said Mr. Dooley.

"I'm not. I mane it."

"Do ye, honest?"

"I do so."

"Thin," said Mr. Dooley, "get me th' Audjitooroom. I've wanted that to
play with f'r manny years."

And Mr. Hennessy went away with the rocking-chair under his arm, the
doll in his pocket, and dumb anger in his heart.

ON ANARCHISTS.

"'Tis ha-ard bein' a king these days," said Mr. Dooley. "Manny's th' man
on a throne wishes his father'd brought him up a cooper, what with wages
bein' docked be parlymints an' ragin' arnychists r-runnin' wild with
dinnymite bombs undher their ar-rms an' ca