Observations By Mr. Dooley
Dunne, Finley Peter, 1867-1936
English
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Observations by Mr. Dooley
by Finley Peter Dunne
A Little Essay on Books
"Hogan tells me that wan iv th' first things man done afther he'd
larned to kill his neighborin' animals, an' make a meal iv wan
part iv thim an' a vest iv another, was to begin to mannyfacther
lithrachoor, an' it's been goin' on up to th' prisint day. Thim
was times that th' Lord niver heerd about, but is as well known
to manny a la-ad in th' univarsity iv southren Injyanny as if th'
histhry iv thim was printed on a poster. Hogan says a pro-fissor
with a shovel an' a bad bringin'-up can go out annywhere along th'
dhrainage-canal an' prove to ye that th' Bible is no more thin an
exthry avenin' edition iv th' histhry iv th' wurruld, an' th' Noah
fam'ly was considhered new arrivals in th' neighborhood where they
lived. He says he'll show ye th' earth as though 't was a section
iv a layer-cake or an archytect's dhrawin' iv a flat-buildin', an'
p'int out how 't was accumylated.
"First 't was a mere squdge in which ne'er a livin' thing cud be
found. This peryod lasted a few millyion years, an' thin th' mush
caked an' become buildin'-materyal, an' threes grew out iv th'
buildin'-materyal an' fell down an' become coal. Thin th' wather
come--but where it come fr'm I don't know, f'r they was no God at
th' time--an' covered th' earth, an' thin th' wather evaporated an'
left little p'ints iv land shtickin' up with ready-made men an'
women occypyin' thim, an' at that moment th' Bible begun. Ye might
say we 're livin' on th' roof iv a flat, with all th' apartmints
beneath us occypied be th' bones iv submarine monsthers an' other
tinants.
"Lasteways that's what Hogan tells me, but I don't believe a wurrud
he says. Most iv th' people iv this wurruld is a come-on f'r
science, but I'm not. Ye can't con-vince me, me boy, that a man
who's so near-sighted he can't read th' sign on a cable-car knows
anny more about th' formation iv th' earth thin Father Kelly. I
believe th' wurruld is flat, not round; that th' sun moves an' is
about th' size iv a pie-plate in th' mornin' an' a car-wheel at
noon; an' it 's no proof to me that because a pro-fissor who 's
peekin' through a chube all night says th' stars ar-re millyions
iv miles away an' each is bigger thin this wurruld, that they 're
bigger thin they look, or much higher thin th' top iv th' shot-tower.
I've been up tin thousand feet on a mountain, an' they seemed so
near that I kept whiskin' thim off me nose as I lay there on me
back, but they wasn't anny larger thin they were on th' sthreet-level.
I believe what I see an' some iv th' things I'm told, if they 've
been told often, an' thim facts iv science has not been hung long
enough to be digistible. "But, annyhow, they say that man first
begun writin' whin he had to hammer out his novels an' pomes on a
piece iv rock, an' th' hammer has been th' imblim iv lithrachoor
iver since. Thin he painted it on skins, hince th' publisher;
thin he played it an' danced it an' croshayed it till 't was
discovered that ink an' pa-aper wud projooce wurruds, an' thin th'
printin'-press was invinted. Gunpowdher was invinted th' same
time, an' 't is a question I've often heerd discussed which has
done more to ilivate th' human race. A joke.
Th' longer th' wurruld lasts th' more books does be comin' out.
Day be day I r-read in th' pa-apers announcemints iv new publications
that look like th' dilinquent tax-list. They 's a publisher in
ivry block, an' in thousan's iv happy homes some wan is pluggin'
away at th' romantic novel or whalin' out a pome on th' type-writer
up-stairs. A fam'ly without an author is as contimptible as wan
without a priest. Is Malachi near-sighted, peevish, averse to th'
suds, an' can't tell whether th' three in th' front yard is blue
or green? Make an author iv him! Does Miranda prisint no atthractions
to th' young men iv th' neighborhood, does her overskirt dhrag,
an' is she poor with th' gas-range? Make an authoreen iv her!
Forchunitly, th' manly insthinct is often too sthrong f'r th'
designs iv th' fam'ly, an' manny a man that if his parents had had
their way might have been at this moment makin' artificial feet
f'r a deformed pome is l'adin' what me fri'nd Hogan calls a glad,
free, an' timperymintal life on th' back iv a sthreet-car.
"But lithrachoor is th' gr-reat life-wurruk iv th' modhren woman.
Th' conthrol is passin' into th' hands iv th' fair sect, an' th'
day will come whin th' wurrud book will mane no more to an able-bodied
man thin th' wurrud gusset. Women write all th' romantic novels
that ar-re anny good. That's because ivry man thinks th' thrue
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