"But, if we had free silver, you'd charge thirty cents for the drink," said Mr. McKenna.
"I wud not," said Mr. Dooley, hotly. "I niver overcharged a man in my life, except durin' a campaign."
"No one accuses you of overcharging," explained Mr. McKenna. "Everybody would charge the same. It'd be the regular price."
"If it was," said Mr. Dooley, "they'd be a rivolution. But I don't believe it, Jawn. Let me tell ye wan thing. Whisky is th' standard iv value. It niver fluctuates; an' that's funny, too, seein' that so much iv it goes down. It was th' same price—fifteen cints a slug, two f'r a quarther—durin' the war; an' it was th' same price afther the war. The day befure th' crime iv sivinty-three it was worth fifteen cints: it was worth th' same th' day afther. Goold and silver fluctuates, up wan day, down another; but whisky stands firm an' strong, unchangeable as th' skies, immovable as a rock at fifteen or two f'r a quarther. If they want something solid as a standard iv value, something that niver is rajjooced in price, something ye can exchange f'r food an' other luxuries annywhere in th' civilized wurruld where man has a thirst, they'd move th' Mint over to th' internal rivinue office, and lave it stay there."
Both Mr. Larkin and Mr. McKenna were diverted by this fancy.
"There's some good argumints on both sides iv th' quisthion," said the Kerry man. "I heerd a man be th' name of Doyle, a helper, compare money to th' human lungs."
"Th' lung argumint is all right," said Mr. Dooley. "Th' whole currency question is a matther iv lungs."
ON POLITICAL PARADES.
Mr. Hennessy, wearing a silver-painted stovepipe hat and a silver cape and carrying a torch, came in, looking much the worse for wear. The hat was dented, the cape was torn, and there were marks on Mr. Hennessy's face.