in' at vespers. His mouth, d'ye mind,
took that there shape fr'm sayin' 'Dooley,' 'Dooley,' that he'd looked
as if he was whistlin'. D'ye mind? Dear, oh dear, 'tis th' divvle's
own fam'ly f'r religion."

Mr. McKenna was about to make a jeering remark to the effect that the
alleged piety of the Dooley family had not penetrated to the Archey
Road representative, when a person, evidently of wayfaring habits,
entered and asked for alms. Mr. Dooley arose, and, picking a
half-dollar from the till, handed it to the visitor with great
unconcern. The departure of the wayfarer with profuse thanks was
followed by a space of silence.

"Well, Jawn," said Mr. Dooley.

"What did you give the hobo?" asked Mr. McKenna.

"Half a dollar," said Mr. Dooley.

"And what for?"

"Binivolence," said Mr. Dooley, with a seraphic smile.

"Well," said Mr. McKenna, "I should say that was benevolence."

"Well," said Mr. Dooley, "'tis a bad night out, an' th' poor divvle
looked that miserable it brought th' tears to me eyes, an'"--

"But," said Mr. McKenna, "that ain't any reason why you should give
half a dollar to every tramp who comes in."

"Jawn," said Mr. Dooley, "I know th' ma-an. He spinds all his money at
Schneider's, down th' block."

"What of that?" asked Mr. McKenna.

"Oh, nawthin'," said Mr. Dooley, "on'y I hope Herman won't thry to
bite that there coin. If he does"--

THE BLUE AND THE GRAY.

"A-ho," said Mr. Dooley, "th' blue an' th' gray, th' blue an' th'
gray. Well, sir, Jawn, d'ye know that I see Mulligan marchin' ahead
with his soord on his side, an' his horse dancin' an' backin' into th'
crowd; an' th' la-ads chowlder arms an' march, march away. Ye shud 've
been there. Th' women come down fr'm th' pee-raries with th' childher
in their arms, an' 'twas like a sind-off to a picnic. 'Good-by, Mike.'
'Timothy, darlin', don't forget your prayers.' 'Cornalius, if ye do
but look out f'r th' little wans, th' big wans 'll not harm ye.'
'Teddy, lad, always wear ye'er Agnus Day.' An', whin th' time come f'r
th' thrain to lave, th' girls was up to th' lines; an' 'twas, 'Mike,
love, ye'll come back alive, won't ye?' an' 'Pat, there does be a pair
iv yarn socks in th' hoomp on ye'er back. Wear thim, lad. They'll be
good f'r ye'er poor, dear feet.' An' off they wint.

"Well, some come back, an' some did not come back. An' some come back
with no rale feet f'r to put yarn socks on thim. Mulligan quit down
somewhere in Kentuc