The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, July 31, 1904, Page 4

THE SAN FRANCISCO SUNDAY CALL. (Copyright, 1904, by McClure, Phillips & Co.) 6¢ J TS no use,” said Mr. Dooley. “I give it up.” “What’s that?” asked Mr. Hennessy. “I can’t get away from him,” Mr. Dooley went on. “I can’t escape me frind Andhrew Carnaygie. I've avided him successfully f'r many years. Th’ bookless libry an’ th’ thoughtless univarsity niver touched me. I’m not enough iv a bru- nette to share anything he done f'r Booker Washin'ton. Up to now, he’s been unable to land on me anywhere. But he’s got me at last. He’s r-run me to earth. I throw up me hands. Come on, Andhrew, an’ paint ye'er illusthrees name on me. Stencil me with that gloryous name.” “What ar-rre ye talkin’ about?” asked Mr. Hennessy. “What are-re ye talkin’ about,” said Mr. Dooley. “He has put aside five millyon dollars or it may be fifty, but anyhow more thin there is in me sugar bowl, to buy medals #r hayroes in th’ daily walks iv life—sogers, polismen an’ invistors in steel common bar- red. Suppose wan day ye and I ar-re walkin home fr'm a pic- nic and ye thrip ye'erself into th’ waters of th’ Illinye an’ Michigan canal. I cannot see me frind dhrown, an’ be- sides, Hinnissy, I'd hate to lose ye as a sparrin’ partner. A man can on’y talk good to his infeeryors an’ ye’re a great stimylant to convarsation. So I'll take off me hat an’ coat an’ vest, hang thim on 2 three, pull off me Congress gaiters an’ lay thim in th’ grass, hang me cravat on th' fince, offer up x shorf prayer an’ lay down on th’ bank an’ pull ye out. I grumble at ye f'r ye'r careless- ness and ye want to fight me fr being so rough in sav- in’ ye'er life whin ye cud have waded out without help, on’ I break th’ sthrap iv me gaiters pullin’ thim on, an’ we go home quarrelin’ an’ jawin’ an’ ye'er wife thinks I pushed ye in. But th’ talk gets ar-round th’ neighborhood an’ wan day a comity steps into me place, headed be a little dumpling iv a man, an’ wan iv thim pins me hands while Andhrew Carnaygie nails on me chist a medal all in goold, with this inscription—here it is— that Father Kelly wrote out f'r me: To Martin Dooley, Hayro, This Medal Is Prisinted By ANDHREW CARNAYGIB Dulcy Et Decorum Est Pro Carnaygie «To Spoil Ye'er Sunday Clothes. “T'll be so mad, I'll throw ye in again, but that won’t help mathers. I'm a hayro f'r good an’ all. I'm f'river doomed to be a sandwich man an’ parade th’ sthreets advartisin’ th’ gin’rosity an’ noble charackter iv Andhrew Carnaygie. ‘If ye want phil- anthrophy go to Carnaygie’s. Largest assortment iv canned charity in th’ wurruld. Save a life an’ get a medal.’ “Iv coorse, I won't be good f'r annything else. I’ll have to sell out th’ liquor store. What's a hayro doin’, pushin’ bottles acrost a bar an’ mendin’ a refracthry beer pump? TI'll quit wurruk fr good an’ hang ar-round a livery stable pitchin’ horse- shoes. They’se nawthin’ a hayro with a medal can do f'r a livin’ that ain’t beneath him. Wanst a hayro, always a hayro. After awhile I'll be lurkin’ in th’ corner iv th’ bridge an’ pushin’ me frinds into th’ river an’ haulin’ thim out f'r a medal. I'll be- come an habichool Carnaygie hayro an’ good fr nawthin’ else. No, me frind, don’t iver fall into th’ canal whin I'm ar-round. I might be lookin’ th’ other way. “An’ think iv th’ position ye ar-re in all this time, th’ man who's life I've saved. Nawthin’ cud be lower. Ye'er raymim- bered friver as a foolish person that cudden’t swim an’ was dhragged fr'm a wathry grave be th’ owner iv th’ Carnayg_le medal. Ye'er wife despises ye because ye had to have ye'er life saved. She was always sure that if she iver fell into th’ wather, {e'er sthrong arm an’ risolute heart wud riscue her an’ lo an’ he- old! whin ye tumble in ye'ersilf, ye have to be rescued be a stout gintleman in the liquor business. Ye'er little boys an’ girls have to bring prisints around to me on me birthday. Ye have to lind me money whin I want it an’ if ye complain people call ye an ingrate. Befure ye die, ye'll wisht ye’d pulled me into th’ canal with ye. “I wanst knowed a la-ad that was more or less riscued fr'm a wathry grave be a tailor be th’ name iv Muggins. He took th’ Ja’ad be th’ ar-rms an’ walked ashore with him. Well, t&’ ag’nized parents, not wantin’ to appear stingy befure th’ neigh- bors, prisinted Muggins with a goold watch an’ Muggins become 8 hayro. Th’ la-ad didn’t think much iv it. He’d have done th’ same fr Muggins. But afther awhile he found that Muggins was chained to him f'r life. As a boy, he was spoken iv as th’ fellow that had his life saved by Muggins th’ tailor. As he grew older he was still Muggins’ boy. Muggins wasn’t much to look at, bein’ a little, bow-legged man, but afther he become a hayro, he acted th’ part. Me young frind cudden’t get away fr'm him. If he was playin’ baseball in th’ corner lot, Muggins was lanin’ over th’ fence with an’ indulgent smile. Whin he grajated with honors at th’ Brothers School, Muggins set in th’ front seat with a look iv fond attintion op his face. Whin th’ Brother Supeeryor handed out th’ first prize, he remarked that it gave him great pleasure to reward th’ ability an’ larnin’ iv this young man in th’ prisince iv th’ hayro to whom he owed his life. It was th’ same in after years. He become a lawyer an’ Muggins niver missed a day in coort. Th’ lawyer f'r th’ opposition always managed to appeal to his finer feelin’s in th’"prisince iv th’ man to whom he owed his life. If it was a suit over a pair iv pants, me frind always lost it. He niver wud take a case agin a tailor fr th’ jury wud always vote against him. In pollyticks he thried to succeed but Mug- gins hung on to him. Whin th’ chairman iv th’ meetin’ arose, he invaryably began: ‘Ladies an’ gintleman, befure inthrojoocin’ th’ speaker iv th’ avenin’, I want to presint to ye th’ man to whom he owes his life an’ who is here on th’ platform to-night, Misther Alphonso Muggins. Me frind was always supposed to put his handkerchief to his eyes at these wurruds an’ with falthrin’ step escoort him to th’ front. Wan night he tol’ me he give Muggins a kick. He said he cudden’t help it. Th’ timptation was too sthrong f'r human endurance. Muggins didn’t mind it. He niver minded annything. He was a hayro. “Afther awhile he took to dhrink. Habichool hayroes always do, an’ whin in dhrink he was melancholy or quarrelsome, as dhrunk men an’ hayroes sometimes ar-re. Clancy wud be settin’ quitely in a cafe with some friends whin Muggins wud blow in an’ set down with his hat over his eyes. Th’ frind wud have to inthrajooce him with a catch in his voice an’ a tear in his eyes. ‘Boys,” he’d say, ‘I want to inthrajooce ye to Alphonse Muggins. Gawd, bless him, boys, he saved me life.” ‘Is that so? says wan iv his companyons. ‘Ye betcher life it is, says Muggins. ‘Did I save his life? Well, ask him. Ye ask him if I did save his life. Ye just ask him. If he don't lie about it, he'll tell ye who saved his life. Did I leap into th’ ragin’ flood an’ riscue him at th’ risk iv me life? Maybe I did. Maybe it was a man in Milwaukee that done that. Looky here. Look at this clock, I got fr'm his folks, if ye don’t believe me. An’ what’s he done f'r me? Tell me that, will ye? Who am I? I'm nothin’. I’'m Muggins th’ tailor. An’ what’s he? Look at him, will ye, with his dimon’ pin an’ his plug hat so gay. An’ where’'d he be if it wasn’t for me? But it's all right, boys. It’s all right. Life is a cur'ous place an’ grati- chood is a thing unknown.’ An’ he wud weep an’ go to sleep. Sometimes he wud fight. He punched Clancy two or three times on account iv his ingratichood. Clancy had to support him an’ bail him out an’ get th’ clock out iv th’ pawnshop ivry Saturday night. But an end comes to all things. Hayroes don’t live long. | They can't th’ way they live. An’ wan day Muggins wint th’ way iv all our kind, proud an’ simple, coward an’ brave hayroes an’ hayro worshipper. Th’ pa-apers had an account iv his fun'ral. ‘Among th’ mourners none was more affected thin Congressman Clancy, whose life, near forfy years ago, this hum- ble hayro had saved fr'm a wathry doom in Lake Michigan.” Th’ rayporthers didn’t obsarve that Clancy tamped th’ grave with his foot to make sure it was solid. He wint home with a light heart, an’ says to his wife: ‘Mother, to-day I begin me rale career. We burrid Muggins.” ‘But Cornelius,’ says th’ good woman, ‘ye owed him ye’er life’ ‘P'raps,’ says Clancy, ‘but,’ he says, ‘he took it out in thrade long ago.’ “No, sir, Hinnissy, if ye see me in disthress kindly call fr profissyonal help. I'll be riscued be a fireman or a polisman be- cause it’s all in their day’s wurruk, but amachoor hayroes is a danger whin they're riscuin’ ye an’ a worry iver afther. If I owe me life to annywan let it be to a man who won't thry to collect it. Annyhow, what is hayroism? If a man stops a run- away team that is dhraggin’ an empty milk wagon into a ditch, he’s not a hayro. He's a fool. Th’ line is lightly dhrawn anny- how. A hayro is often a succissful fool an’ a fool is an unsue- cessful hayro. I've heard Andhrew Cama;'gie called a hayro but I don’t believe it. If he was he wudden't be givin' medals fr hayroism. If he was a profissyonal swimmer, he wudden’t think annything iv savin’ people fr'm dhrownin’. If he was a fireman he’d think nawthin’ iv carryin’ a man down th’ fire-escape iv a burnin’ buildin’. If he was a stable boy, he'd find that he’d have to catch runaway horses or lose his job. I wudden’t hesitate to go down a laddher on ye’er shouldhers but if ye thried to save me fr'm dhrownin’ I'd scream f'r help. What wud I be doin’ thryin’ to stop a runaway team? But if ye fell through my coal hole into me cellar, I'd organize an hayroic riscue. 1 know th’ way. Hayroes ought to know th’ way to be safe. If they do they don’t need anny medals. If they don't, they’d betther turn in an alarm. “There are hayroes an’ hayroes. We're all hayroes more or less. Ye're a hayro ye'ersilf, towin’ those tired feet afther ye ivry mornin’ whin th’ whistle blows. An’ be hivens, if ye'er wife had a medal f'r ivry act iv hayroism she’s performed, she’d have as manny now as Sousa. Hayroes in th’ humble walks iv life, says he? Well, there’s enough iv thim to break him if he gives each wan iv thim th’ on’y kind iv medals they need, th’ kind th’ govermint foundhry makes with an eagle on th’ back.” “Well, annyhow, he’s a very gin’rous man an’ he desarves ivrybody’s gratichood,” said Mr. Hennessy. “Oh, as for that,” said Mr. Dooley, “what good wud my lit- tle gratichood do him? He'll get gratichood enough. He tends to that himself.” man,