“Well, ivrything was all r-right f'r awhile, an' th' Cap was assaultin' a knuckle iv ham an' a shell iv beer, whin Willum Waldorf Asthor comes up an' taps him on th' shoulder an' says: 'Duck.' 'What name?' says th' Cap. 'Asthor,' says Willum. 'Oh,' says th' Cap, 'ye're th' American gazabo that owns this hut,' he says. 'I am,' says Willum. 'I can't go,' says th' Cap. 'Ye didn't ask me here an' ye can't sind me away,' he says. 'Gossoon, another shell iv malt, an' dhraw it more slow,' he says. 'I am an English gintleman an' I know me rights,' he says. 'Dure or window,' says Willum. 'Take ye'er choice,' he says. 'If ye insist,' says th' Cap, 'I'll take th' dure,' he says, 'but ye don't know th' customs iv civilization,' he says; an' th' hired man just grazed him on th' dure sthep.
“Well, Willum Waldorf Asthor was that mad, he wint down to his pa-aper office, an' says he, 'I want to put in an item,' he says, an' he put it in. 'It is wished,' he says, 'to be apprihinded,' he says, 'be those desirous not to have been misinformed,' he says, 'concarnin' th' recent appearance iv Cap Sir Mills at me party,' he says, 'that 'twas not be me that said Cap Sir Mills come to be on th' site,' he says, 'but rather,' he says, 'through a desire on th' part iv Cap Sir Mills to butt into a party to which his invitation was lost about three hours befure 'twas written,' he says.”
“Well, now, ye'd think that was all right, wudden't ye? Ye'd say Asthor acted mild whin he didn't take down his goold ice pick from th' wall an' bate th' Cap over th' head. Th' Cap, though a ganial soul, had no business there. 'Twas Willum Waldorf Asthor that paid f'r the ice cream an' rented th' chiny. But that's where ye'd be wrong, an' that's where I was wrong. Whin th' Prince iv Wales heerd iv it he was furyous. 'What,' he says, 'is an English gintleman goin' to be pegged out iv dures be a mere American be descent?' he says. 'A man,' he says, 'that hasn't an entail to his name,' he says. 'An American's home in London is an Englishman's castle,' he says. 'As th' late Earl iv Pitt said, th' furniture may go out iv it, th' constable may enther, th' mortgage may fall on th' rooned roof, but a thrue Englishman'll niver leave,' he says, 'while they'se food an' dhrink,' he says. 'Willum Waldorf Asthor has busted th' laws iv hospitality, an' made a monkey iv a lile subjick iv th' queen,' he says. 'Hinceforth,' he says, 'he's ast to no picnics iv th' Buckingham Palace Chowder Club,' he says. An' th' nex' day Willum Waldorf Asthor met him at th' races where he was puttin' down a bit iv money an' spoke to him, an' th' Prince iv Wales gave him wan in th' eye. He must've had something in his hand, f'r the pa-aper said he cut him. P'raps 'twas his scipter. An' now no wan'll speak to Willum Waldorf Asthor, an' he's not goin' to be a jook at all, an' he may have to come back here an' be nachurlized over again like a Bohamian. He's all broke up about it. He's gone to Germany to take a bath.”
“Lord, help us,” said Mr. Hennessy, “can't he get wan nearer home?”
“It seems not,” said Mr. Dooley. “Mebbe the Prince iv Wales has had th' wather cut off. He has a big pull with th' people in th' city hall.”
DOINGS OF ANARCHISTS
“Why should anny man want to kill a king?” said Mr. Dooley. “That's what I'd like to know. Little gredge have I again' anny monarch in th' deck. Live an' let live's me motto. Th' more ye have in this wurruld th' less ye have. Make in wan place, lose in another's th' rule, me boy. Little joy, little sorrow. Takin' it all an' all I'd rather be where I am thin on a throne, an' be th' look iv things I'll have me wish. 'Tis no aisy job bein' a king barrin' th' fact that ye don't have to marry th' woman iv ye'er choice but th' woman iv somebody else's. 'Tis like takin' a conthract an' havin' th' union furnish th' foreman an' th' mateeryal. Thin if th' wurruk ain't good a wild-eyed man fr'm Paterson, Noo Jarsey, laves his monkey an' his hand organ an' takes a shot at ye. Thank th' Lord I'm not so big that anny man can get comfort fr'm pumpin' a Winchester at me fr'm th' top iv a house.”
“But if I was king ne'er an organ grinder'd get near enough me to take me life with a Hotchkiss gun. I'd be so far away fr'm the multitood, Hinnissy, that they cud on'y distinguish me rile features with a spy-glass. I'd have polismen at ivry tur-rn, an' I'd have me subjicks retire to th' cellar whin I took me walk. Divvle a bit wud you catch me splattherin' mesilf with morthar an' stickin' newspapers in a hole in a corner shtone to show future gin'rations th' progress iv crime in this cinchry. They'd lay their own corner-shtone f'r all iv me. I'd communicate with th' pop'lace be means iv ginral ordhers, an' I'd make it a thing worth tellin' about to see th' face iv th' gr-reat an' good King Dooley.”